Title

Ital (eye'-tal): of or from the earth; vital; life giving; natural.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Poems for Everyday

Yesterday was World Poetry Day. I love poetry and even if I'm a day late, I would like to share some wonderful words with all of you...

Bone Tree

I didnt want you then
when guango with its sturdy trunk
mango and almond
crowded my shadow

bone tree
no leaf
no limb
only the parasite bromeliad
hugging the trunk

How did you
bone of my black bone
stare at the wind
outstare him as he
crashed

large trees
guango and mango
groaning to their knees

splintered my windows
wrenched my doors
and floated out my bed?

Watching you pray
age does not frighten me
nor seeming frailty now

stark arms against the light
dark arms stretched wide
against the moon

bone tree
I need you now

--Velma Pollard


Footling

Where others dive
into their first air,
you would insist
on testing the climate,
dangling in one foot,
as if you might decide
to forget the whole thing
and go back indoors.

It isn't that way, child.
Once it is time to get born,
a person gets born.

--Toni Flores


Clothes

You take off, we take off, they take off
coats, jackets, blouses, double-breasted suits,
made of wool, cotton, cotton-polyester,
skirts, shirts, underwear, slacks, slips, socks,
putting, hanging, tossing them across
the backs of chairs, the wings of metal screens;
for now, the doctor says, it's not too bad,
you may get dressed, get rested up, get out of town,
take one in case, at bedtime, after lunch,
show up in a couple of months, next spring, next year;
you see, and you thought, and we were afraid that,
and he imagined, and you all believed;
it's time to tie, to fasten with shaking hands
shoelaces, buckles, velcro, zippers, snaps,
belts, buttons, cuff links, collars, neckties, clasps
and to pull out of handbags, pockets, sleeves
a crumpled, dotted, flowered, checkered scarf
whose usefulness has suddenly been prolonged.

--Wislawa Szymborska

Conjure Woman Kneels beneath the Sycamore Tree

To bury

Mary mother’s intuition,

Valerie’s ancient wisdom,

Eleanor’s sorrow low and deep,

Arlene’s wanderlust,

Elena’s passion for Vermeer green,

Sandy’s quilted serenity;

singing softly the gospels of Evelyn’s faith unwavering;

hoping to ignite

Toni’s blazing world.

--Corey R. Breneisen

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