Category Archives: Poetry
I Hear It
The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some …
Paths
Many paths lead from The foot of the mountain, But at the peak We all gaze at the Single bright moon. ~Ikkyū (1394-1481)
Conscience and Remorse
Conscience and Remorse by Paul Laurence Dunbar “Good-bye,” I said to my conscience– “Good-bye for aye and aye,” And I put her hands off harshly, And turned my face away; And conscience smitten sorely Returned not from that day. But a time came when my spirit Grew weary of its pace; And I cried: “Come …
‘Neath the old apple tree
The Old Apple Tree by Paul Laurence Dunbar There’s a memory keeps a-runnin’ Through my weary head to-night, An’ I see a picture dancin’ In the fire-flames’ ruddy light; ‘Tis the picture of an orchard Wrapped in autumn’s purple haze, With the tender light about it That I loved in other days. An’ a-standin’ in …
A Retired Statistician
Apple Thieves by Beverley Bie Brahic In his dishevelled garden my neighbor Has fourteen varieties of apples, Fourteen trees his wife put in as seedlings Because, being sick, she wanted something Different to do (different from being sick). In winter she ordered catalogues, pored Over subtleties of mouthfeel and touch: Tart and sweet and crisp; …
Time
“A mistake constantly made by those who should know better is to judge people of the past by our standards rather than their own. The only way men and women can be judged is against the canvas of their own time.” ~from Education of a Wandering Man: A Memoir by Louis L’Amour ©1989 Paul Laurence …
Sorrow
Draw & Wings is on the web HERE.
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
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)
