We’re in a cabin a few days, so I have one book. This one’s also from Mouth to Mouth, Poems by Twelve Contemporary Mexican Women, edited by Forrest Gander (1991). A little more here (google translated):
http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&sl=es&u=http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2009/02/26/cultura/a05a1cul&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dmonica%2Bmansour%2Bpoemas%26rlz%3D1T4WQIA_enUS585US585
from Untitled / by Monica Mansour
And later, I let them fall, but the veil tangled in a bird’s wing.
Any day is a good day for myth making. This one’s from Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama, 3rd Edition, ed. by XJ Kennedy (1983). More here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/barry-spacks
from Teaching the Penguins to Fly / by Barry Spacks (1931-2014)
it’s nothing like easy to start them moving;
she’ll leap and flap her arms to teach
the big idea
For elegies. No Crane yet? This one’s from Chief Modern Poets of Britain and America, Fifth Edition, ed. by Sanders, Nelson and Rosenthal. A fellow Ohioan.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/hart-crane
from Royal Palm / by Hart Crane (1899-1932)
Green rustlings, more than regal charities
Drift coolly from that tower of whispered light.
For statues. This one’s from Greek Women Poets, ed. by Eleni Fourtouni (1978).
from Mark of Recognition / by Kiki Dimoula, b. 1931
You can’t even
weigh a few raindrops in your hands,
or pick a daisy.
For miracles. This one’s from the book, Villanelles, ed. by Annie Finch and Marie-Elizabeth Mali. More here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/molly-peacock
from Little Miracle / by Molly Peacock b. 1949
No use getting hysterical.
The important part is: we’re here.
Our lives are a little miracle.
Another funeral day. Today, a best friend long disconnected and the 10-year-old-part-sheepdog dog he left behind. And so, we welcome Daisy into our home and hope she finds some peace and comfort here among old friends, new children, all new to her.
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/who-god-so-asked-our-dog
from “Who is God? So Asked Our Dog” / by Dara Wier b. 1949
How many seasons are there?
Where was God born?
How many stars?
Another for Themeless Week, this summer’s eve. From poets.org. More here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/visitation
from The Visitation / by Brigit Pegeen Kelly b. 1951
God sends his tasks
and one does
them or not
More themeless. This one’s from APR, May/June 2014.
from Father, Insect / by Nick Flynn b. 1960
I remind my
daughter, You know, before you were
born, I was not
a father.
For this random-play week, here’s one from Poem A Day ed. by Laurie Sheck, Vol. 2. A music major at Harvard, Frank O’Hara wrote this elegy for Billie Holiday.
from The Day Lady Died / by Frank O’Hara (1926-1966)
It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959
Random play / shuffle week. From Poetry 180, ed. by Billy Collins.
from Praise Song / by Lucille Clifton 1936-2010
to my aunt blanche
who rolled from grass to driveway
into the street one sunday morning.
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