What Is There Beyond Knowing –Mary Oliver From New and Selected Poems: Volume Two What is there beyond knowing that keeps calling to me? I can’t turn in any direction but it’s there. I don’t mean the leaves’ grip and…
Poem: Morning on the Island
Morning on the Island –Carolyn Forché From The Nation 290:15, 19 April 2010 The lights across the water are the waking city. The water shimmers with imaginary fish. Not far from here lie the bones of conifers washed from the…
Poetry: Against Entropy
By John M. Ford The worm drives helically through the wood And does not know the dust left in the bore Once made the table integral and good; And suddenly the crystal hits the floor. Electrons find their paths in…
Half-full, Half-empty?
Today’s NaBloPoMo prompt: “Is the glass half-full or half-empty?” It’s half-full, and things are getting better all the time. Last night as I was sleeping I dreamt—marvelous error!— that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden…
NaPoWriMo
This is so cool. To honor National Poetry Month, there’s National Poetry Writing Month, which is providing daily poetry writing prompts for April. I immediately thought of Hope Evey. Because of this marvelous thing I’m seeing a poem a day…
NaBloPoMo April: Poem
This month’s blogging theme is “Poem.” Not poetry, but “Poem.” It’s in honor of National Poetry Month. It’s been a few years since I wrote any poetry, so to honor the theme I’ll point you to poetry I’ve shared elsewhere…
Poetry: The Blue Bowl
The Blue Bowl —Jane Kenyon From Otherwise: New & Selected Poems Like primitives we buried the cat with his bowl. Bare-handed we scraped sand and gravel back into the hole. They fell with a hiss and thud on his side,…
Poetry Question
In honor of National Poetry Month, the Academy of American Poets has been sending out a poem a day via email to subscribers. I’m enjoying them, but one of them just… Have you ever found the form of a poem…
Poetry: Edna St. Vincent Millay
I wanted to do something different for today’s Thing-a-Day, and I signed up to be part of Live Readings a while back but hadn’t recorded anything yet, so I’m posting this is both (all three?) places. What Lips My Lips…
Poetry: Michael Blumenthal
For my Sam A Marriage You are holding up a ceiling with both arms. It is very heavy, but you must hold it up, or else it will fall down on you. Your arms are tired, terribly tired, and, as…