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.
20th-Century Poetry
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 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 / Mallarmé
For musicians in the visual arts play at inaudible decibels, from French Symbolist Poetry.
from Saint / by Stéphane Mallarmé, translated by C. F. MacIntyre
touched by a harp shaped
by the Angel in evening flight
for the delicate finger-tip
that, without the old santal
or the old book, she balances
on the plumage instrumental,
musician of silence.
DPF / Stein
For Stein’s meditation on female poets, from No More Masks! An Anthology of 20th-Century American Women Poets (1993).
from Patriarchal Poetry / by Gertrude Stein
as Patriarchal poetry is the same as Patriotic poetry is the same
as patriarchal poetry in the same.
Patriarchal poetry is the same….
Let her be to be to be to be let her be to be to be let her to
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 