For the upcoming holiday, thinking of Jean Valentine, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Sanctuary / by Jean Valentine
Yes I know: the thread you have to keep finding, over again, to
follow it back to life; I know. Impossible, sometimes.
Month: January 2016
DPF / Howe
Errata: a few edits in today’s: For planets, like the ones we research with our fifth grader every weekend, from poetryfoundation.org. Did I say, “every weekend”? I meant every weekend.
from Three Persons / by Fanny Howe
Their winter systems
sparkle like the diamonds
that pelt Neptune.
DPF / Howe
For planets, like the ones we research with our fifth grader every weekend, from poetryfoundation.org. Did I say, “every weekend”? I meant every weekend.
from Three Persons / by Fanny Howe
Their winter systems
sparkle like the diamonds
that pelt Neptune.
DPF / Kizer
For daughters, from Mermaids in the Basement.
from For My Daughter / by Carolyn Kizer
I held my breath that night
to the light sound of rain
and prayed you to grow.
DPF/ Ali
For rain and more rain for our drought, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Rain / by Kazim Ali
The pages of my notebook soak, then curl. I’ve written:
“Yogis opened their mouths for hours to drink the rain.”
DPF / Herrera
For and from our U.S. poet laureate, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Water Water Water Wind Water / by Juan Felipe Herrera
alabama wind calls alabama
and the roofs blow across red clouds
inside the divine spiral
there is a voice
DPF / Padgett
For sonnets and muses, from How to Be Perfect, by Ron Padgett.
from The Art of the Sonnet / by Ron Padgett
Last night I said hello
to the little muse
the smaller than usual muse
DPF / Goodfellow
For beautiful comma beautiful punctuation comma from a new and lovely book comma Mendeleev’s Mandala. Thank you, Jessica!
from The Function of the Comma is to Separate / by Jessica Goodfellow
For instance: the clock in this room is loud comma relentless comma repetitive comma annoying
DPF / Ruefle
For the beautiful stuff that fell from the sky this past week, from Cold Pluto.
from Rain Effect / by Mary Ruefle, b. 1952
shining like satin on the black street,
on the tips of patent leather shoes, Hokusai’s
father who polished mirrors for a living, Hokusai’s
father watching the sky for clouds, Hokusai’s father’s son
drawing rain over a bridge and over the people crossing
the bridge
DPF / Mark
For love, acceptance, obsessions, and what to take to forever, from West Branch Wired. The whole grand unbelievable believableness of it is here:
http://www.bucknell.edu/west-branch-wired/sabrina-orah-mark.html
from If You Need Me, MOTHER is the Poem Where I’ll Be / by Sabrina Orah Mark
I ask my MOTHER what useless thing she would take with her if she was to go away forever. She wants to know, what do I mean by “useless?” “Like a photograph?” she asks. And then she begins to worry: “What about the necessary things will they have the necessary things where I’m going?” “Forget it,” I say. “This is all too much,” she says. “Plus I think the stock market is crashing.”
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 