What's your favourite poem?

[lotus]

"music in the morning" by dorianne laux leaves me speechless.

when I think of the years he drank, the scars
on his chin, his thinning hair, his eye that still weeps
decades after the blow, my knees weaken with gratitude
for whatever kept him safe, whatever stopped
the glass from cracking and shearing something vital,
the fist from lowering, exploding an artery, pressing
the clot of blood toward the back of his brain.
now, he sits calmly on the couch, reading,
refusing to wear the glasses I bought him,
holding the open book at arm's length from his chest.
behind him the windows are smoky with mist
and the tile floor is pushing its night chill
up through the bare soles of his feet. I like to think
he survived in order to find me, in order
to arrive here, sober, tired from a long night
of tongues and hands and thighs, music
on the radio, coffee -- so he could look up and see me,
standing in the kitchen in his torn t-shirt,
the hem of it brushing my knees, but I know
it's only luck that brought him here, luck
and a love that had nothing to do with me,
except that this is what we sometimes get if we live
long enough, if we are patient with our lives.

[lotus]

"in and out" by jane kenyon

The dog searches until he finds me
upstairs, lies down with a clatter
of elbows, puts his head on my foot.

Sometimes the sound of his breathing
saves my life -- in and out, in
and out; a pause, a long sigh...



"wood thrush" by jane kenyon

High on Nardil and June light
I wake at four,
waiting greedily for the first
note of the wood thrush. Easeful air
presses through the screen
with the wild, complex song
of the bird, and I am overcome

by ordinary contentment.
What hurt me so terribly
all my life until this moment?
How I love the small, swiftly
beating heart of the bird
singing in the great maples;
its bright, unequivocal eye.

[lotus]

run my dear,
from anything
that may not strengthen
your precious budding wings.

run like hell my dear,
from anyone likely
to put a sharp knife
into the sacred, tender vision
of your beautiful heart.

we have a duty to befriend those aspects of obedience
that stand outside of our house
and shout to our reason
o please, o please
come out and play.

for we have not come here to take prisoners
or to confine our wondrous spirits,
but to experience ever and ever more deeply
our divine courage, freedom, and light

- hafiz

[lotus]

"the thing is" by ellen bass

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
when grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, how can a body withstand this?
then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

[Natalka]

i carry your heart with me

by e. e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

[baggypants]

The Children's Hour
by Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!


When my kids were little, I had a book that had poems and songs and lullabies and this was one that I loved to read to my boys.

I re-read it the night before my son's wedding and it brought happy tears, especially the last verse!!

[Andit]

Anyone a fan of Leonard Cohen? His poems & lyrics are lovely & I LOVE his songs (as long as someone else is singing them - I'm going to a concert of his music next week & can't wait!).


Go by brooks, love,
Where fish stare,
Go by brooks,
I will pass there.

Go by rivers,
Where eels throng,
Rivers, love,
I won't be long.

Go by oceans,
Where whales sail,
Oceans, love,
I will not fail.

[gryphon]

OZYMANDIAS

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

[lotus]

Anyone a fan of Leonard Cohen? His poems & lyrics are lovely & I LOVE his songs (as long as someone else is singing them - I'm going to a concert of his music next week & can't wait!)

andit, love the leonard! I was lucky enough to see him play downtown toronto a few years ago, that comeback tour of his and he was pure beauty. seventy-four years old and dancing around that stage with such humble energy and honesty. he was funny and so, so grateful... his fedora met his chest so many times. I've never seen or heard an audience so quiet and captivated. he moved many to tears, it was a really special show. that'll be exciting magic next week! whereabouts are you seeing him? I wasn't even aware he was touring again.

[Andit]

Wow, that sounds amazing!

I'm not actually seeing Leonard Cohen. This is the third year for the Global Cabaret Fest, 4 days of concerts at the theatre where I hang out. Each year they've done a Leonard Cohen Songbook, with various artists doing amazing renditions of his songs. Last year Brent Carver did a breath-taking rendition of Take This Waltz.

Here's info on the concert if you're interested:
http://www.globalcabaret.ca/informat...cohen_songbook

andit, love the leonard! I was lucky enough to see him play downtown toronto a few years ago, that comeback tour of his and he was pure beauty. seventy-four years old and dancing around that stage with such humble energy and honesty. he was funny and so, so grateful... his fedora met his chest so many times. I've never seen or heard an audience so quiet and captivated. he moved many to tears, it was a really special show. that'll be exciting magic next week! whereabouts are you seeing him? I wasn't even aware he was touring again.

[McSkier]

Remember Me
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti

[lotus]

...Here's info on the concert if you're interested:
http://www.globalcabaret.ca/informat...cohen_songbook

oh, I had heard about the cabaret fest on sarah slean's website! she's another one my favourites who will be performing in that workshop. I've heard her do an amazing, androgynous cover of "I'm your man". that sounds like a great time -- you've got me considering tickets.

[Andit]

Any Tennyson fans here?

Lord Alfred Tennyson's The Eagle:

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

[McSkier]

<SCRIPT type=text/javascript><!-- e9 = new Object(); e9.size = "160x600,120x600"; e9.addBlockingCategories="Audio,Pop-under,Pop-up"; //--></SCRIPT><SCRIPT src="http://tags.expo9.exponential.com/tags/LiteratureNetwork/ROS/tags.js" type=text/javascript></SCRIPT><SCRIPT src="http://a.tribalfusion.com/displayAd.js?dver=0.3&th=12551170850" type=text/javascript></SCRIPT><CENTER><SCRIPT src="http://a.tribalfusion.com/j.ad?site=literaturenetwork&adSpace=ros&tagKey=313 3780538&th=12551170850&tKey=aAmn6yTrFZaWPYWPEMSPVQ GumekFu&size=160x600|120x600&p=9241355&a=2&flashVe r=9&ver=1.19&center=1&addBlockingCategories=Audio| Pop-under|Pop-up&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.online-literature.com%2Fpoe%2F576%2F&rurl=http%3A%2F%2Fww w.google.ca%2Fsearch%3Fhl%3Den%26source%3Dhp%26q%3 Dannabel%2Blee%2Bpoem%26rlz%3D1W1SUNA_en%26aq%3D0s %26aqi%3Dg-s1g-sx2g1g-sx4%26aql%3D%26oq%3Dannabelle%2Blee%2Bpoem%26gs_rf ai%3D&f=0&rnd=9238567" type=text/javascript></SCRIPT></CENTER><SCRIPT language=javascript>//Required variables. var tf_clickTag = 'http://a.tribalfusion.com/h.click/aSmOQK4dnZdQGZbC5AMJoHXrUH3dYFn61Ufg0aeMRrUETUYSVt QYnrBoRbbNYEMO3a7i2anPoEfF1FFbTdM0nmfZcpGvnmtfD5Ev g5dmy5AbGnFbH0VYRYGF50GBynarU2FF5WbvEVPj2PTj4QVZaW sRm5ORA5RUI3vd24OPqbVpmBKRCb1H/http://adc2.adcentriconline.com/adcentric/form/1619/2/46912;id=22578'; var tf_flashfile = 'http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/2242666/160x600_minMax_standard'; var tf_imagefile = 'http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/2242666/BMO_smartSteps_160x600.gif'; var tf_width = 160; var tf_height = 600;//Optional variables. var tf_bgcolor = '#ffffff'; var tf_use_flash_wrapper = false; var tf_wmode = 'opaque'; var tf_salign = 'lt'; var tf_allowScriptAccess = 'sameDomain'; var tf_extraFlashVars = '';//Autogenerated code. Please do not change. var tf_id = '399268376'; var tf_loaderFlash = 'http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/common/flash/frame3'; var tf_button = 'http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/common/flash/button4.swf'; var tf_click = 'http://a.tribalfusion.com/h.click/aSmOQK4dnZdQGZbC5AMJoHXrUH3dYFn61Ufg0aeMRrUETUYSVt QYnrBoRbbNYEMO3a7i2anPoEfF1FFbTdM0nmfZcpGvnmtfD5Ev g5dmy5AbGnFbH0VYRYGF50GBynarU2FF5WbvEVPj2PTj4QVZaW sRm5ORA5RUI3vd24OPqbVpmBKRCb1H/'; var tf_state = 'Ontario'; var tf_city = 'Newmarket'; var tf_zipcode = 'L3Y'; var tf_gender = ''; var tf_location = 'http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/2242666/';</SCRIPT><SCRIPT language=javascript src="http://cdn5.tribalfusion.com/media/common/flash/flashv15.js"></SCRIPT><NOSCRIPT></NOSCRIPT><OBJECT id=TFclick399268376 codeBase=http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,0,0 height=600 width=160 align=middle classid=clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000 name=TFclick399268376>
























</OBJECT>
Annabelle Lee

by: Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me -
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we -
Of many far wiser than we -
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea -
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

[Natalka]

Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?