Wednesday, April 24, 2013

National Poetry Month, Part 2


We are more than the worst thing that’s ever
happened to us. All of us need to stop apologizing
for having been to hell and come back breathing.
Your bad dreams are battle scars.
What doesn’t kill you cuts you fucking deep
but scars are just skin growing back
thicker when it heals.

Clementine von Radics

Stop Being So Religious

do sad people have in
It seems
they have all built a shrine
to the past
And often go there
to do a strange wail and
What is the beginning of
It is to stop being
so religious
like that.

by Hafez 

i thank you god for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today;
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

by e.e. cummings

Advertisement For the Mountain 
There are two versions of every life.

In the first one, you get a mother, a father,
your very own room.

You learn to walk, which is only done by walking.
You learn the past tense of have, which is hunger.

You learn to ask almost anything
is to ask it to be over,
as when the lover asks the other

“Are you sleeping? Are you beginning
to go away?”

(And whether or not you learn it, life does not penetrate
more than five miles above the earth
or reach more than three miles beneath the sea.

Life is eight miles long.

You could walk it, and be there before sundown.
Or swim it, or fall it, or crawl it.)

The second is told from the point
of view of the sky.

by Christina Davis


I'm never gonna wait
that extra twenty minutes
to text you back, 
and I'm never gonna play
hard to get
when I know your lfie
has been hard enough already
it's hard to watch
the game we make of love
like everyone's playing checkers
with their scars,
saying checkmate
whenever they get out
without a broken heart.
Just to be clear
I don't want to get out
without a broken heart.
I intend to leave this life
so shattered
there's gonna have to be
a thousand separate heavens
for all my flying parts.

by Andrea Gibson


Marion said...

Excellent, beautiful choices, Phoenix. That e. e. cummings poem always blows me away. Happy Spring, gorgeous girl. xoxo

"Poetry, like the moon, does not advertise anything." ~William Blissett

Rosaria Williams said...

You have great taste!
Thank you for sharing.

Anthony Duce said...

Enjoyed... Especially 2 and 4... they fit well into these days.

Robin said...

Excellent choices. I know that I have read that e.e. cummings poem before. It sounded so familiar. Tragedies always (should) remind us how important it is to LIVE.

JJ said...

The first line of the first poem (untitled) is outstanding!

Ginger said...

Wow, woman, thank you for sharing! Every last one of those hit home for me. Beautiful choices!

Bathwater said...

i like these poems. You pick out the ones we all can relate too.

Wine and Words said...

You touched me here....and here...and there. Genuinely. Thank you friend. Your selections reached me deep.

Tricia J. O'Brien said...

Fabulous choices, full of enlightenment. I loved the lines: "scars are just skin growing back thicker" and "they have all built a shrine to the past" and "now the eyes of my eyes are opened". thank you!

Red Shoes said...

I LOVE the Andrea Gibson poem!!!!


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