This is a sweet poem I found in Poetry 180. I sort of expected it to turn dark, but, it stayed sweet to the end.
from God Says Yes to Me / by Kaylin Haught
I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
Month: March 2014
DPF / Harvey
And, Robert Pinsky reminds me of Matthea Harvey because of the 2010 Key West Literary Conference which accommodated them both and gracefully held all the tensions from formal to free and everything in between. And, Key West reminds me of poetry and oceans, and oceans of the want bone, and the want bone of Robert Pinsky and Robert Pinsky of Matthea Harvey. Though, of course, each is his/her own beautiful universe in and of him/herself. And, this one is for the musical Ms. Harvey.
from If Scissors Aren’t the Answer, What’s a Doll to Do? / by Matthea Harvey
The dotted lines go everywhere. Up the ceiling and around the chandelier. Down the basement steps and into the lint tray.
DPF / Pinsky
One for Dr. Pinsky. I remember this one from undergrad or graduate school.
from The Want Bone / by Robert Pinsky
The beach scrubbed and etched and pickled it clean.
But O I love you it sings, my little my country
My food my parent my child I want you my own
My flower my fin my life my lightness my O.
DPF / Tanpinar
Borrowed from Leonard Durso’s blog. Thank you! And, for my friends in the Antelope Valley. http://leonarddurso.com/2014/03/16/fear-by-ahmet-hamdi-tanpinar/
from Fear / by Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar trans. by Talat S. Halman
And deathlessness along my lovely swoop
Now bites the thirsty antelope of time.
DPF / Frame
Here’s my erratum (burden). My apologies to Ms. Frame! Valentine brings me back around to Frame. And, back to the waves. Not very Leprechaun-ish, but magical nonetheless.
from Sunday Afternoon at Two O’clock / by Janet Frame
Seizing the time from the University clock, the wind
suddenly cannot carry its burden of chiming sound.
The waves ride in, tumultuous, breaking gustily out of tune,
burying
two o’clock on Sunday afternoon.
DPF / Frame
Valentine brings me back around to Frame. And, back to the waves. Not very Leprechaun-ish, but magical nonetheless.
from Sunday Afternoon at Two O’clock / by Janet Frame
Seizing the time from the University clock, the wind
suddenly cannot carry its burden of chiming sound.
The waves ride in, tumultuous, breaking gustily out of tune,
burying
two o’clock on Sunday afternoon.
DPF / Valentine
From birthday wishes to dreams.
from Barrie’s Dream, The Wild Geese / by Jean Valentine
‘I dreamed about Elizabeth Bishop
and Robert Lowell–an old Penguin book
of Bishop’s poetry–a thick china cup
and a thick, china sugar bowl, square,
cream-colored, school stuff….’
DPF / Collins
And, birthdays remind me of this one by former Poet Laureate, Billy Collins.
from On Turning Ten / by Billy Collins
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
DPF / Hughes
Well, it’s a switchback while hiking from Rossetti to Hughes, but a natural path to Birthday Letters.
from Robbing Myself / by Ted Hughes
I peered awhile, as through the keyhole,
Into my darkened, hushed casket
From which (I did not know)
I had already lost the treasure.
DPF / Rossetti
On my little sister’s birthday. Happy birthday by the sea!
from A Birthday / by Christina Rossetti
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 