Category Archives: Poetry
It is not he or she or them or it that you belong to…
It really reads better as a poem than as a song. Full lyrics HERE.
Listen:
“But listen to me. For one moment quit being sad. Hear blessings dropping their blossoms around you.” ~Rumi
A Minute
You are a minute of quiet in a loud shouting world. by Gabriel Gadfly
Troubles
Via Nudity and Nerdery
128
Sonnet 128 William Shakespeare How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st, Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which …
Secrets
Even if you consume as many books As the sands of the Ganges It is not as good as really catching One verse of Zen. If you want the secret of Buddhism, Here it is: Everything is in the Heart! ~Ryokan (1758–1831) (source)
Lord,
Prayer During Battle by Hermann Hagedorn Lord, in this hour of tumult, Lord, in this night of fears, Keep open, oh, keep open My eyes, my ears. Not blindly, not in hatred, Lord, let me do my part. Keep open, oh, keep open My mind, my heart! This poem disturbs me. The author seems to …
66
Sonnet 66 by William Shakespeare Tir’d with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm’d in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And guilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art …
little i
From 73 Poems by e.e. cummings, published posthumously © 1963: who are you,little i (five or six years old) peering from some high window;at the gold of november sunset (and feeling:that if day has to become night this is a beautiful way)
The Middle Way
“when the road forked / he took the middle way / and disappeared into the desert…” ~Robert Shelton, The Angel and the Anchorite, ©1978
Experience
Experience to Let by Ogden Nash from I’m A Stranger Here Myself © 1938 Experience is a futile teacher, Experience is a prosy preacher, Experience is a fruit tree fruitless, Experience is a shoe tree bootless. For sterile wearience and drearience, Depend, my boy, upon experience. The burnt child, urged by rankling ire, Can hardly …
Old Men Know
Old Men by Ogden Nash from Hard Lines © 1931 People expect old men to die. They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People look At them with eyes that wonder when… People watch with unshocked eyes; But the old men know when an old man dies. Ogden Nash was known …
