For graduation season, and for our niece, who graduated from nursing school yesterday, from poetryfoundation.org. This is a repeated poem, but it bears re-visiting.
from The School Where I Studied / by Yehuda Amichai, translated by Chana Bloch
The windows of a classroom always open
to the future
For figments and vanishing acts, from Jackstraws.
from The Return of the Invisible Man / by Charles Simic, b. 1938
The invisible man, it turns out, had a daughter,
Equally ethereal.
He wants to know, have I bumped into her lately?
You bet, I says to him.
If you’re reading this, you may be one of those people with this particular joy in life, from Poetry Magazine, June 2016.
from As I walk patiently through life / by Daniel Berrigan, 1921-2016
As I walk patiently through life
poems follow close —
When under stress, try Tate. For the care and feeding of the imagination, from The Eternal Ones of the Dream.
from Behind the Milk Bottle / by James Tate
Once as a river of molten lava
poured through my living room
I was cut off from my emergency kit
For undecipherable lilacs, from The Star by My Head.
from You Have to Practice Reality / by Werner Aspenström, translated by Malena Mörling and Jonas Ellerström
When your sister comes to visit
you often talk of lilacs
as if lilacs were an extinct species
and did not bloom new each June
in halls of mild honey and the songs of thrushes.
For Seville and Córdova, from The Burial of the Count of Orgaz & other poems.
from Tauromachian Emblems / by Pablo Picasso, translated by Jerome Rothenberg and Pierre Joris
Ibarra (Don Eduardo) Seville
blue turquoise and straw yellow emblems
For basalt eggs and swans’ feet, from North.
from The Grauballe Man / by Seamus Heaney
As if he had been poured
in tar, he lies
on a pillow of turf
and seems to weep
For unexplainable happenings, from Song.
from Song / by Brigit Pegeen Kelly
The goat had belonged to a small girl. She named
The goat Broken Thorn Sweet Blackberry, named it after
The night’s bush of stars, because the goat’s silky hair
Was dark as well water, because it had eyes like wild fruit.
For griffins and centaurs, from Modern Life.
from You Know This Too / by Matthea Harvey
The bird on the gate and the goat nosing the grass below make a funny little fraction, thinks the centaur. He wonders if this thought is more human than horse, more poetry than prose.
For one of May’s most welcome weathers, from Crown of Weeds.
from Introducing: The Clouds / by Amy Gerstler
Introducing: the clouds.
Billowing, tufted,
or ragged. Flying
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