For with the 108-degree weather, I’m thinking of holiday trees, from The Complete Poems.
from Chansons Innocentes II / by E. E. Cummings
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
See i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
For if you need some kings, queens and dragons this week, from The Norton Anthology of Literature, Fourth Edition.
from The Faerie Queene / by Edmund Spenser
Under a vele, that wimpled was full low,
And over all a blacke stole she did throw,
As one that inly mournd: so was she sad,
And heavie sat upon her palfrey slow:
Seemed in heart some hidden care she had
For poetry, from Poetry, July/August 2017.
from Essay on Craft / by Ocean Vuong
Because the butterfly’s yellow wing
flickering in black mud
was a word
stranded by its language.
For bridges and boycotts, from Poetry, July/August 2017: Asian American Poets.
from The Prize / by Hayan Charara
A book with poems
about Bessie Smith,
Marilyn Monroe,
Queen Elizabeth,
William Tell
For a Happy 4th, if you celebrate it, and for a happy Tuesday, if not, from poetryfoundation.org.
from I Hear America Singing / by Walt Whitman
For dragons, from Chinese Love Poems.
from Dragon of the Shoreless Sea / by Li Hung-chang, translated by Peter Rudolph
Carry her away in your ship of ghosts, and carry me away with her … that we may float forever together on that sea
For the upcoming holiday and weather and kings who wish for control of everything, even the weather, from Bartholmew and the Oobleck.
from Bartholomew and the Oobleck: (Magicians’ Chant) / by Dr. Seuss
‘Oh, snow and rain are not enough!
Oh, we must make some brand-new stuff!
So feed the fire with wet mouse hair,
Burn an onion. Burn a chair.
Burn a whisker from your chin.
And burn a long sour lizard skin….’
For English poetry, from Poetry, May 2017.
from Kaftan / by Lucy Tunstall
My mother has taken me to Paddington station.
We are inside a whale.
For language and poor maidens and the last day of June, since I know how to count these things after all, from Sound the Deep Waters: Women’s Romantic Poetry in the Victorian Age.
from The Mountain Maid / by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Half seated on a mossy crag,
Half crouching in the heather;
I found a little Irish maid,
All in June’s golden weather.
For moments that shine, wherever you find them, from Poem A Day, Volume 2.
from Sparkles from the Wheel / by Walt Whitman
Where the city’s ceaseless crowd moves on the livelong day,
Withdrawn I join a group of children watching, I pause aside with them.
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