For scribes for which Heaney has an argument here, from Opened Ground.
from The Scribes / by Seamus Heaney
I never warmed to them.
If they were excellent they were petulant
and jaggy as the holly tree
they rendered down for ink.
Month: July 2017
DPF / Heaney
For the mysteries of nests, from Opened Ground.
from Nesting-Ground / by Seamus Heaney
As he stood sentry, gazing, waiting, he thought of putting his ear to one of the abandoned holes and listening for the silence underground.
DPF / Heaney
For summer and Heaney, from Opened Ground.
from Summer Home / by Seamus Heaney
Bushing the door, my arms full
of wild cherry and rhododendron,
I hear her small lost weeping
through the hall
DPF / Heaney
For let’s make a week of Heaney, from Opened Ground.
from Bogland / by Seamus Heaney
They’ve taken the skeleton
Of the Great Irish Elk
Out of the peat, set it up,
An astounding crate full of air.
DPF / Heaney
For more poetry by the Irish Sea, from Opened Ground.
from Good-night / by Seamus Heaney
A latch lifting, an edged den of light
Opens across the yard.
DPF / Heaney
For the Irish sea, from Opened Ground.
from North / by Seamus Heaney
It said, “Lie down
in the word-hoard, burrow
the coil and gleam
of your furrowed brain.
DPF / Rubin
For a family day of 10K’s and Half Marathons on the beach; wishful only that I’ll make it to the end of my 10K without walking (and, I hope not to merge with the sea during the run)! from poetryfoundation.org.
from For a Poet-Athlete / by Larry Rubin
The swimmer merges with the sea, his muscles
Measure undulating waters, his motion
Masters time.
DPF / Ginsberg
For the father of first-thought-best-thought, an idea which may only work for a mind like Ginsberg’s, from The Best American Poetry 1997, edited by James Tate, series editor David Lehman.
from Is About / by Allen Ginsberg
Who cares what it’s all about?
I do! Edgar Allan Poe cares! Shelley cares! Beethoven and Dylan care.
Do you care? What are you about
or are you a human being with 10 fingers and two eyes?
DPF / Dickey
For a place in which animals live and die and live again, from The Vintage Book of Contemporary American Poetry (1990).
from The Heaven of Animals / by James Dickey
Here they are. The soft eyes open.
If they have lived in a wood
It is a wood.
If they have lived on plains
It is grass rolling
Under their feet forever.
DPF / Po
For friends as children and spouses as adults, from Poem A Day: Vol 2, the July 12th poem.
from The River Merchant’s Wife: a Letter / by Li Po, translated by Ezra Pound
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played at the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 