For poets of all walks of life, from a poet in his own right.
from I Have A Dream / by Martin Luther King Jr.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, ‘Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!’
For a belated day and for Dr. Williams, from Poem A Day, Volume 2, the September 22 entry.
from Waiting / by William Carlos Williams
Let us see, let us see!
What did I plan to say to her
when it should happen to me
as it has happened now?
For similes and sometimes feeling minuscule, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Simile at the Side of the Road / by Mark Cox
In photographs of our galaxy
it looks like someone’s just finished
stirring us with a long wooden spoon
For fairy tale and for this time of year from a favorite poem and from Poems 1962-2012.
from All Hallows / by Louise Glück
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises
For a Central Valley poet, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Elegy with a Chimneysweep Falling Inside It / by Larry Levis
Those twenty-six letters filling the blackboard
Compose the dark, compose
The illiterate summer sky & its stars as they appear
One by one, above the schoolyard.
For sis, from The Sleep Book.
from The Sleep Book / by Dr. Seuss
Way out in the west, in the town of Mercedd,
The Hinkle-Horn Honking Club just went to bed.
For Work & Fancy who walk along holding hands sometimes, and, like any other couple, sometimes don’t; from The New American Poetry, edited by Donald M. Allen.
from The Instruction Manual / by John Ashbery
As I sit looking out of a window of the building
I wish I did not have to write the instruction manual on the uses of a new metal.
For this Labor Day weekend’s College Football season openers, from poetry 180; supporting teams who lost isn’t difficult, UCLA & UF. If you’re a fan, stay loyal.
from Football / by Louis Jenkins
I take the snap from the center, fake to the right, fade back…
I’ve got protection. I’ve got a receiver open downfield…
For somehow, it’s a Bishop kind of day, the kind of day when seals carry hymns to the ocean floor, from The Collected Poems.
from At the Fishhouses / by Elizabeth Bishop
Cold dark deep and absolutely clear,
element bearable to no mortal,
to fish and to seals . . . One seal particularly
I have seen here evening after evening.
He was curious about me. He was interested in music;
like me a believer in total immersion,
so I used to sing him Baptist hymns.
For gnomes and magical thinking of all kinds, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Shroud of the Gnome / by James Tate
And what amazes me is that none of our modern inventions
surprise or interest him, even a little.