Poet's Corner

'Going Deaf'

"No matter how she tilts her head to hear
she sees the irritation in their eyes.
She knows how they can read a small rejection,
a little judgment, in every What did you say?
So now she doesn't say What? or Come again?
She lets the syllables settle, hoping they form
some sort of shape that she might recognize.
When they don't, she smiles with everyone else,
and then whoever was talking turns to her
and says, "Break wooden coffee, don't you know?"
She pulls all she can focus into the face
to know if she ought to nod or shake her head.
In that long space her brain talks to itself.
The person may turn away as an act of mercy,
leaving her there in a room full of understanding
with nothing to cover her, neither sound nor silence."

Miller Williams
 
But you only need
five from one hand and two from
other to haiku.

If you multiply
zero times a billion it
still equals zero.

Why is there something
and what does it mean to us
that there is nothing.

Philosophy is
fundamentally about
rationality.

Where are we going
so fast that life passes too soon
we need to slow down.
 
You save them in case
one day you should be questioned
show me ten fingers.

Okay. Maybe I'll
keep all my fingers. But just
to warn you: sometimes I lose count of how many syllables I have left and I might go over a bit.
 
I know what you mean
it is sometimes hard to write
the perfect haiku.

But back to poems
they can give such pleasure in
this electric world.

=================

'Older Love'

"His wife has asthma
so he only smokes outdoors
or late at night with head
and shoulders well into
the fireplace, the mesquite and oak
heat bright against his face.
Does it replace the heat
that has wandered from love
back into the natural world?
But then the shadow passion casts
is much longer than passion,
stretching with effort from year to year.
Outside tonight hard wind and sleet
from three bald mountains,
and on the hearth before his face
the ashes we’ll all become,
soft as the back of a woman’s knee."

Jim Harrison
 
Those Who Do Not Dance


A crippled child
Said, “How shall I dance?”
Let your heart dance
We said.

Then the invalid said:
“How shall I sing?”
Let your heart sing
We said

Then spoke the poor dead thistle,
But I, how shall I dance?”
Let your heart fly to the wind
We said.

Then God spoke from above
“How shall I descend from the blue?”
Come dance for us here in the light
We said.

All the valley is dancing
Together under the sun,
And the heart of him who joins us not
Is turned to dust, to dust.


~Gabriela Mistral~
 
'16-bit Intel 8088 chip'

"with an Apple Macintosh
you can't run Radio Shack programs
in its disc drive.
nor can a Commodore 64
drive read a file
you have created on an
IBM Personal Computer.
both Kaypro and Osborne computers use
the CP/M operating system
but can't read each other's
handwriting
for they format (write
on) discs in different
ways.
the Tandy 2000 runs MS-DOS but
can't use most programs produced for
the IBM Personal Computer
unless certain
bits and bytes are
altered
but the wind still blows over
Savannah
and in the Spring
the turkey buzzard struts and
flounces before his
hens."

Charles Bukowski
 
Ode to a gym teacher

She was a big tough woman
The first to come along
She showed me being female meant you still could be strong
And though graduation meant that we had to part
She'll always be a player on the ballfield of my heart

I wrote her name on my notepad and the ink got on my dress
And I etched it on my locker and I carved it on my desk
And I painted big red hearts with her initials on my books
And I never knew till later why I got those funny looks...

She was a big tough woman
The first to come along
She showed me being female meant you still could be strong
And though graduation meant that we had to part
She'll always be a player on the ballfield of my heart

In gym class while the others talked of boys that they loved
I'd be thinking of new aches and pains the teacher had to rub
And while other girls went to the prom I languished by the phone
Calling up and hanging up if I found out she was home

She was a big tough woman
The first to come along....

I sang her songs by Johnny Mathis
I gave her everything
A new chain for her whistle, and daisies in the spring
Some suggestive poems for Christmas by Miss Edna Millay
And a lacy lacy lacy card for Valentine's Day
(Unsigned of course)

She was a big tough woman
The first to come along...

(Here comes the moral of the song...)

So you just go to any gym class
And you'll be sure to see
One girl who sticks to Teacher like a leaf sticks to a tree
One girl who runs the errands and who chases all the balls
One girl who may grow up to be the *gayest* of all...

She was a big strong woman
The first to come along
To show me being female meant you still could be strong
And though graduation meant that we had to part
YOU"LL always be a player on the ballfield of my heart!

--By Meg Christian
 
This Is Just To Say

"I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold."

William Carlos Williams
 
When You Come


When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,

I CRY.

Maya Angelou
 
I am Prepared

When I cross the Bar of the Great Blue Beyonder
I know that my Maker, without pause or ponder,
Will welcome my soul. For my record is scar-less
I've eaten no oysters in months that are R-less

Dr. Seuss.
 
'Whatif'

"Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!"

Shel Silverstein
 

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