The Magic Oracle 

My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns,

Love is the fire, and signs the smoke,

The ashes shame and scornes.

Robert Southwell, “The Burning Babe”

The life we begin with a scream

we end with a whisper.

Bucky Sinister, “The House that Punk Built”

In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,

the raw material of poetry in

all its rawness and

that which is on the other hand

genuine, you are interested in poetry.

Marianne Moore, ”Poetry”

The Lady is a humble thing

Made of death and water

The fashion is to dress it plain

And use the mind for border.

Elise Cowen, “The Lady Is a Humble Thing”

 

So sat I between the word truth

And the word fable

Took out my empty bowl

And spoon.

Charles Simic, “Pastoral”

I must go to the mountainsto hear

the sound and the sound.

Kijo Song, “Sound”

To drift with every passion till my soul

Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play,

Is it for this that I have given away

Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control?

Oscar Wilde, “Helas”

And graven with diamonds in letters plain

There is written, her fair neck round about,

Noli me Tangere, for Caesar’s I am,

And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder, “Whoso List to Hunt”

 

 

There is neither heaven nor earth,

Only snow

Falling incessantly.

Hashin, “The First Snow of the Year”

I cannot abide these malapert males,

Pirates of love who know no duty;

Yet love with a storm can take down their sales,

And they must strike to Admiral Beauty.

Sir William Davenant, “Plays and Masques”

That if gold ruste, what shal iren doo?

Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales

And cannot pleasures, while they last,

Be actual unless, when past,

They leave us shuddering and aghast,

With anguish smarting?

Lewis Carroll, “A Valentine”

 

 

Know you faire on what you look;

Divinest love lyes in this booke.

Richard Cranshaw, “The Temple of Sacred Poems”

O get thee wings!

Henry Vaughan, “The British Church”

Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short;

And done, we straight repent us of the sport

Petronius Arbiter, “Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short”

Wine comes in at the mouth

And love comes in at the eye.

William Butler Yeats, “A Drinking Song”

Rich men, trust not in wealth,

Gold cannot buy your health

Thomas Nashe, “Adieu, Farewell, Earth’s Bliss”

Something sinister in the tone

Told me my secret must be known.

Robert Frost, “Bereft”

Come in the evening, or come in the morning;

Come when you’re look’d for, or come without warning.

Thomas Osbourne Davis, “The Welcome”

The answer lies within

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name,

Mother of Exiles.

Emma Lazarus, “The New Colossus”

There are no people

To gape at them now,

For people are loath to

Peer in the dimness.

Padraic Colum, “Monkeys”

The least flower with a brimming cup may stand,

And share its dew-drop with another near.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Work”

 

You did not come,

And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.

Thomas Hardy, “A Broken Appointment”

The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?

Francis Thompson, “The Hound of Heaven”

O drinke to thirst, and thirst to drinke that treasurer,

where the only danger is to keepe a measurer.

William Alabaster, “Sonnet 32”

This cynic smile is but a wile of guile

This costume chaste is

But good taste misplaced!

Martin Gordon, “Am I Alone?”

And in his mistress’ flame, playing like a fly,

Turned to cinders by her eye?

Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed,

To have’t expressed,

Even ashes of lovers find no rest.

Ben Jonson, “The Hourglass”

There is a channel between voice and presence,
where information flows.

In disciplined silence the channel opens;
with wandering talk, it closes.

Rumi, “Afghanistan”

How happy he, who free from care

The rage of courts, and noise of towns;

Contented breathes his native air,

In his own grounds.

Alexander Pope, “Ode on Solitude”

Velvet at the edge of the tongue,

at the edge of the brain, it was

velvet. At the edge of history.

Diane di Prima, “For Pigpen”

The tumult and the shouting dies;

The captains and the kings depart:

Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,

An humble and a contrite heart.

Rudyard Kipling, “Recessional”

And the greatest gift

God can give is His own experience.

Meister Eckhart, “To See As God Sees”

The answer is no

Busy old fool, unruly Sun,

Why dost thou thus,

Through windows, and through curtains call on us?

John Donne, “The Sun Rising”

And if I should live to be

The last leaf upon the tree

In the spring,

Let them smile, as I do now,

At the old forsaken bough

Where I cling.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, “The Last Leaf”

Can there be any day but this,

Though many sunnes to shine endeavour?

We count three hundred, but we misse:

There is but one, and that one ever.

George Herbert, “Easter”

Not good for the land, not good for the sea

There’s nothing biodegradable about it

But it does make one hell of an outfit.

Jessyka Stinston, “Tinsel Me Pretty”

That now are wild, and do not remember

That sometime they put themselves in danger

To take bread at my hand; and now they range,

Busily seeking with a continual change.

Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder, “They Flee from Me”

Look

what happens to the scale

when love

holds

it.

It

stops

working.

Kabir, “It Stops Working”

Swore that two lives should be like one

As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,

As long as the sunflower sought the sun,—

It shall be, I said, for eternity

‘Twixt you and me!

Oscar Wilde, “Her Voice”

But cease thy tears, bid ev’ry sigh depart,

And cast the load of anguish from thine heart:

From the cold shell of his great soul arise,

And look beyond, thou native of the skies.

Phillis Wheatley, “To a Lady on the Death of Her Husband”

Who sayes that fictions only and false hair

Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty?

George Herbert, “Jordan (I)”

Yet haste the era, when the world shall know,

That such distinctions only dwell below;

The soul unfetter’d, to no sex confin’d,

Was for the abodes of cloudless day designed.

Judith Sargent Murray, “On the Equality of Sexes”

All we can touch, swallow, or say

Aids in our crossing to God

And helps unveil the soul.

Saint Theresa of Avila, “I Loved What I Could Love”

 

 

Man is a shop of ruses: a well truss’d pack,

Whose every parcel under-writes a law.

Lose not thyself, nor give thy humors way;

God gave them to thee under lock and key.

George Herbert, “The Church-Porch”

The church is put in fault;

The prelates been so haut,

They say, and look so high

As though they would fly

Above the starry sky.

John Skelton, “From Colin Clout”

 

But now, with new and open eyes,

I see beneath, as if I were
above the skies.

Thomas Traherne, “The Third Century”

 

Without sound we live in.

Where we are, really, climbing

the sides of buildings to peer in like spiderman,
at windows not our own.

Diane di Prima, “My Lover’s Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun”

And coward Love, then, to the heart apace

Taketh his flight, where he doth lurk and ’plain,

His purpose lost, and dare not show his face.

Henry Howard, Earl Of Surrey, “Love, That Doth Reign
and Live Within My Thought”

Who calls me that

As I go further into emptiness

I find something greater emptied

Something greater than heaven emptied.

Seuk Hô, “Something Greater Than Heaven”

Rash is the man, when the black banners blow,

What weds wi’ the Queen o’ the Castle o’ Crow.

Helen Adam, “The Queen O’ Crow Castle”

Green Buddhas

On the fruit stand.

We eat the smile

And spit out the teeth.

Charles Simic, “Watermelons”

 

When reading all those thick books on the life of god,

It should be noted that they were all written by men.

Bob Kaufman, “Heavy Water Blues”

She cries loudly for us to come! We hear,

for the night’s many tongues

carry her cry across the sea.

Sappho, “To Atthis”

It is certain

We who bear your creation seek re-creation.

Plant in your people a love and respect for your land.

Plant in your people a love and respect for your land.

Martin Palmer, “Listen to the Voices of Creation”

Life smooths us, rounds, perfects,

as does the river the stone,

and there is no place our Beloved is not flowing

though the current’s force you may not always like.

Saint Theresa of Avila, “I Loved What I Could Love”

 

 

What? Not done complaining yet?

Anne Waldman, “A Phonecall from Frank O’ Hara”

All the false notions of myself that once caused fear, pain, have turned to ash as I neared God.

Hafiz, “Persia”

To goe to heaven, we make heaven come to us.

We spur, we rein the starres, and in their race

They’re diversely content t’obey our pace.

John Donne, “The First Anniversary; An Anatomy of the World”

Light came from the east, bright signal of God, the sea became still so that I might see the headlands, the windy walls of the sea. Fate often saves an undoomed man when his courage is good.

Beowulf, “The Feast at Herot”

But Oh! What Human Fortitude can be

Sufficient to Resist a Deity?

Aphra Behn, “A Congratulatory Poem”

 

Shall you have all or nothing

take half or pass by untouched?

Marge Piercy, “My Mother’s Body”

Our passions help to lift us.

I loved what I could love until I held Him,

for then-all things-every world disappeared.

Saint Theresa of Avila, “Spain”

The shell must break before the bird can fly.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, “The Ancient Sage”

Look within

O kill kill kill kill kill

Those who advertise you out.

Charles Olson, “I, Maximus of Gloucester, to You”

And with a beck ye shall me call,

And if of one that burneth always

Ye have any pity at all,

Answer him fair with yea or nay.

Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder, “Without Many Words”

They seem anxious to know

What holds up heaven nowadays.

James Merrill, “After Greece”

Like water in goblets of unbaked clay

I drip out slowly,

and dry.

My soul whirls. Dizzy. Let me

discover my home.

Lal Ded

God Damn you God damn me my misunderstanding of you.

Charles Olson, “Moonset, Gloucester, December 1, 1957, 1:58 a.m.”

Alas! It is a fearful thing

To feel another’s guilt!

Oscar Wilde, “The Ballad of Reading Gaol”

Even so you can see in full dawn

The ground there lifts

a foreign thing desertless in origin.

A.R. Ammons, “Apologia Pro Vita Sua”

Next, sip this weak wine

From the green glass flask,

with its stopper.

Robert Browning, “The Englishman in Italy”

A coin, a dot, the end of a sentence,

the end of the long improbable utterance

of the holy and human.

C.K. Williams, “The Modern”

We are resident inside the machinery,

a glimmering spread throughout the apparatus.

Jack Gilbert, “Kunstkammer”

You sing in my mind like wine. What you

did not dare in your life you dare in mine.

Marge Piercy, “My Mother’s Body”

Crossed your bridge with your big word and your huge silence.

ruth weiss, “For Bobby Kaufman”

 

The teeming gulf—the sleepers and the shadows!

The past—the infinite greatness of the past!

For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?

Walt Whitman, “Passage to India”

This piece of food cannot be eaten,

nor this bit of wisdom found by looking.

There is a secret core in everyone not

even Gabriel can know by trying to know.

Rumi

The worldy wisdome of the foolish man

Is like a sieve, that does, alone, retain

The grosser substance of the worthless brain.

Francis Quables, “Book 2, Emblem VII”

Thy lust and liking is from thee gone.

Thou blinkard blowboll, thou wakest too late.

John Skelton, “Lullay, Lullay, Like a Child”

These are the tranquillized Fifties

And I am forty. Ought I to regret my seedtime?

Robert Lowell. “Memories of West Street and Lepke”

The people I love the best jump into work head first

without dallying in the shallows

and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.

Marge Piercy, “To Be of Use”

you can be a good girl

and stop

telling everyone what you’re doing

when you are abusing

drugs and men

and bodies

that look something like your own

perine parker, “denial”

Man is all symmetrie

Full of proportions, one limbe to another,

And all to all the world besides:

Each part may call the farthest, brother

George Herbert, “Man”

None thither mounts by the degree

Of knowledge, but humility.

Andrew Marvell, “A Dialogue, Between the Resolved Soul,
and Created Pleasure”

To rack old Elements,

Or Dust;

and say

Sure here he must needs stay

Is not the way, nor Just.

Henry Vaughan, “The Search”

 

This is

always the case.

Wherever I am

I am what is missing.

Mark Strand, “Keeping Things Whole”

 

No darkness then did overshade,

But all within was Pure and Bright,

No Guilt did Crush, nor fear invade

But all my Soul was full of Light.

Thomas Traherne, “Innocence”

The only war that matters

is the war against the imagination.

Diane di Prima, “Rant”

Suffering is what was born

Ignorance made me forlorn

Tearful truths I cannot scorn

Allen Ginsberg, “Don’t Grow Old”

Dear philosophers, I get sad when I think.

Is it the same with you?

Charles Simic, “A Letter”

A spark of recognition and she

Mouths the words

Takes his hand

G. Thomas, “Warsaw”

This Planet will survive only if

All recognize a Common Mission.

Norbert Korte, “There’s No Such Thing As an Ex-Catholic”

She cries loudly for us to come!

We hear, for the night’s many tongues

carry her cry across the sea.

Sappho, “To Atthis”

tonight I am the only one who knows me

and I hallucinate.

eli coppola, “Who Am I to Say”

Isis is the original recycler.

She recycled her man, Osiris

And added a gold phallus

Rethink what you want to do.

ArtAmiss, “Isis”

Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,

In joy and woe, as in a doubtful ease,

For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring:

But by and by, the cause of my disease

Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, “Alas! So All Things
Now Do Hold Their Peace”

I touch my palm. I touch it again and again.

I leave no fingerprint. I find no white scar.

It must have been something else,

Something enormous, something too big to see.

Charles Wright, “Equation”

Try again

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame

Go where it doth deserve.

“And know you not,” says Love, “who bore the blame?”

My dear, then I will serve.

“You must sit down,” says Love, “and taste my meat.”

So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert, “Love”

he would rather have clean sheets,

than my poem, but as long as I don’t bother her, she’s glad

to know I care.

Fleda Brown, “I Write My Mother a Poem”

 

 

 

The rage of courts, and noise of towns;

Contented breaths his native air,

In his own grounds.

Alexander Pope, “Ode on Solitude”

I hear the bells in the sky crying, “Every being is blest.”

Helen Adam, “Margaretta’s Rime”

The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.

The paired butterflies are already yellow with August

Over the grass in the West garden;

They hurt me.

Li Po, translated by Ezra Pound, “The River Merchant’s Wife”

What signature shapes the vector of breath

Flowing outward?

Diane Di Prima, “The Doctor of Signatures”

And, better yet when the night is over

she can curl right up in her dress and go to sleep.

ArtAmiss, “What Does It Matter?”

For the river at Wheeling, West Virginia,

Has only two shores:

The one in hell, the other

In Bridgeport, Ohio.

James Wright, “In Response To a Rumor That the Oldest Whorehouse in Wheeling, West Virginia,
Has Been Condemned”

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

William Butler Yeats, “The Second Coming”

We are but farmers of ourselves, yet may,

If we can stocke ourselves, and thrive, uplay

Much, much deare treasure for the great rent day.

John Donne, “To Mr. Rowland Woodward”

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known

The weariness, the fever, and the fret.

John Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale”

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Crossing the Bar”

If You wish me to leap joyfully,

Let me see You dance and sing—

Then I will leap into Love—

And from Love into Knowledge,

And from Knowledge into the Harvest,

That sweetest Fruit beyond human sense.

There I will stay with You, whirling.

Mechtild of Magdeburg, “I Cannot Dance, O Lord”

The answer is yes

The wind goes nattering on,

Gossipy, ill at ease, in the damp room it will air.

I count off the grace and stays

My life as come to, and know I want less.

Charles Wright, “April”

 

What you do is how you get along

What you did is all it ever means.

Robert Creely, “Places to Be”

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron, “She Walks in Beauty”

Just more waiting, with bells on,

And that Truth, is it only the FACT of WAITING,

the flash at the end.

Elise Cowen, “Did I Go Mad?”

I said to God, “I will always be unless you cease to Be,”

and my Beloved replied, “And Iwould cease to Be if you died.”

Saint Theresa of Avila

 

 

And the more souls who resonate together,

the greater the intensity of their love,

and, mirror-like, each soul reflects the other.

Dante, “Italy”

Where God has built his blazing throne,

Nor yet alone in earth below,

With belted seas that come and go,

And endless isles of sunlit green,

Is all thy Maker’s glory seen.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, “The Living Temple”

The generations labor to possess

And grave by grave we civilize the ground.

Louis Simpson, “To the Western World”

Now you feel how nothing clings to you; your vast shell reaches into endless space, and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Your job is to find out what the world is trying to be.

William Stafford, “Vocation”

Presently my soul grew stronger,

Hesitating then no longer.

Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven

I encourage blossoms to flourish with ripening fruits.

Hildegard of Bingen

There, in the windless night-time,

The wanderer, marveling why,

Halts on the bridge to hearken

How soft the poplars sigh.

A.E. Housman, “A Shropshire Lad”

We play in its skeletal maze to find

A warm rabbit moving in a deep hole.

Louise Nayer, “Magic”

 

Get up and walk out
into the first light.

Charles Simic, “Paradise”

 

 

 

I think I am going to climb back down

And open my eyes and shine.

James Wright, “Lightning Bugs Asleep in the Afternoon”

May wide and towering heaven collapse upon me in all its

bronze and terror, catastrophe to the peoples of the earth,

on that day when I no longer stand by my companions,

on that day when I cease to harry my enemies.

Theognis of Megara

He held radical light

as music in his skull: music.

A.R. Ammons, “He Held Radical Light”

All poets pass,

but poetry remains.

Alberto Blanco, “Poem Seen in a Motel Fan”

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnet CXVI”

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,

Guilty of dust and sin.

George Herbert, “Love Bade Me Welcome”

Once

I saved my dreams

in a jar under my bed for a week.

Bucky Sinister, “The Little Children Whom God Hated”

I know what we call it

Most of the time.

But I have my own song for it,

And sometimes, even today,

I call it beauty.

James Wright, “Beautiful Ohio”

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble,

Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!

Robert Burns, “To a Mouse on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785”

 

 

 

Need,

and need not gratified

has helped me understand

why the suicide can do it

and the alcoholic can

transcend and thereby end

his limit.

Rod McKuen, “Sleep After the Brighton Lanes”

The secret

Of this journey is to let the wind

Blow its dust all over your body.

James Wright, “The Journey”

I have no heart for wars I can’t fight

Or bombs that destroy.

Joanna McClure, “Dear Lover”

 

HURRY UP PLEASE IT’S TIME.

T.S. Eliot, “The Wasteland”

 

 

 

 

The age

Requires this task:

Create

A different image:

Re-animate

The mask.

Dudley Randal, “A Different Image”

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

Edgar Allen Poe, “A Dream Within a Dream”

Keep walking, though there’s no place to get to.

Rumi

I became You, Lord, and forgot You.

Mahadeviyakka

There’s no way out.

You were born to waste your life.

You were born to this middleclass life.

Louis Simpson, “In the Suburbs”

Love me in the lightest part,

Love me in full being.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “A Man’s Requirements”

What does not perish

Lives in thee.

Kenneth Patchen, “There Is Nothing False In Thee”

Don’t wait

Futile the winds

To a heart in port—

Done with the compass,

Done with chart.

Emily Dickinson, “Wild Nights—Wild Nights!”

Even in the black waters there is the luminescence
of one who has been saved.

Louise Nayer, “In the Islands”

We shall remember, when our hair is white,

These clouded days revealed in radiant light.

George Orwell, “Our Minds are Married But We
are Too Young”

The state of man does change and vary,

Now sound, now sick, now blyth, now sary,

William Dunbar, “Lament for the Makers”

 

Let the night bee too dark
for me to see Into the future.

Let what will be, be.

Robert Frost, “Acceptance”

 

It is not fitted with a brake,

And endless are my verses,

Nor any yarn I start to make

Appropriately terse is.

Edward Dyson, “My Typewriter”

The Strangler’s ear is alert for the names of Orpheus,

Cuchulian, Gawain, and Odysseus…

Kenneth Koch, “Fresh Air”

 

 

My first love gave me singing.

My second eyes to see,

But oh, it was my third love

Who gave my soul to me.

Sara Teasdale, “Gifts”

Once my life is Your gesture,

how can I pray?

Mahadeviyakka

Don’t panic

Just keep it organic.

Diamond Dave Whitaker

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Dylan Thomas, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”

Sometimes you want

A vaguer touch: I understand and won’t give assertion up.

A.R. Ammons, “Working with Tools”

Love rules

Nothing will be the same as once it was.

Weldon Kess, “Robinson”

A chorus of smiles, a winter morning.

Placed in a puzzling light, and moving,

Our days put on such reticence

These accents seem their own defense.

John Ashbery, “Some Trees”

The calm hand holds more than baskets of goods
from the market.

St. John of the Cross

My mother’s countenance

Could not unfrown itself.

Theodore Roethke, “My Papa’s Waltz”

One hour with thee! When sun is set,

Oh, what can teach me to forget

The thankless labors of the day.

Sir Walter Scott, “An Hour with Thee”

The darkness from the darkness.

Pain comes from the darkness

And we call it wisdom. It is pain.

Randall Jarrell, “90 North”

A basis rock-like of love & friendship

For all this world-wide madness seems to be needed.

John Berryman, “Of Suicide”

My roots are brandish’d in the heavens,
my fruits in earth beneath.

Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum’d!

William Blake, “Europe: A Prophecy Pendulum”

Illuminated in your infinite peace, a billion stars go
spinning through the night

Rainer Maria Rilke

In a hummingbird’s dance there is no bird,

only movement.

Ok-Koo Kang Grosjean, “A Hummingbird’s Dance”

No love

No compassion

No intelligence

No beauty

No humility

Twenty-seven years is enough

Elise Cowen, “Unnamed”

No one worth possessing

Can be quite possessed

Sara Teasdale, “Advice to a Girl”

 

It is madness

Says reason

It is what it is

Says love.

Erich Fried, “What It Is”

 

Let be be final of seem.

The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.

Wallace Stevens, “The Emperor of Ice Cream”

 

And the angel in the gate, the flowering plum,

Dances like Italy, imagining red.

Louis Simpson, “Walt Whitman At Bear Mountain”

We think by feeling. What is there to know?

I hear my being dance from ear to ear

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Theodore Roethke, “The Waking”

Outside the open window

The morning air is all awash with angels.

Richard Wilbur, “Love Calls Us to the Things of this World”

Where has fail’d a perfect return, indifferent of lies or the truth?

Is it upon the ground, or in water or fire? or in the spirit of man? or in the meat and blood?

Walt Whitman, “All Is Truth”

You have forty-nine days between death and
rebirth if you’re a Buddhist.

Even the smallest soul could swim.

Maxine Kumin, “In the Park”

Maybe

Millions of observers guess all the

time, but each person, once, can say, “Sure.”

William Stafford, “My Father: October 1942”

Let it go inside of me

and touch God.

Don’t be shy, dear.

Every aspect of Light we are meant

to know.

St. John of the Cross

That night of time under the Christward shelter:

I am the long world’s gentleman, he said.

And share my bed with Capricorn and Cancer.

Dylan Thomas, “Altar-wise by Owl-Light

Never seek to tell thy love,

Love that never told can be.

William Blake “Never Seek to Tell Thy Love”

 

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose.

Theodore Roethke, “I Knew a Woman”

Don’t try to see through the distances.

That’s not for human beings.

Rumi

A poem spread

Across the Universe

To divine a prophecy

And affirm your dream.

Brad Olsen, “speed poem, part 2”

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore,

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore.

Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven”

 

The answer is yes

O, may it be that far within

My inmost soul there lies

A spirit-sky, that opens with

Those voices of surprise?

William C. Gannett, “Listening for God”

If you can’t be interesting at least you can be a legend

Frank O’Hara, “Yesterday Down At the Canal”

The cross is up with its crying victim, the clouds

Cover the sun, we learn a new way to lose.

Elizabeth Jennings, “Friday”

And I see you and you’re divine

and I see you and you’re a divine animal

and you’re beautiful.

Lenore Kandel, “Hard Core Love: To Whom It Does Concern”

And the man who feels superior to others,

that man cannot dance, the real dance.

St. John of the Cross

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?

Robert Frost, “Reluctance”

the core directed to its essence.

ruth weiss, ”Something Current”

Who lives in these dark houses?

I am suddenly aware

I might live here myself.

Louis Simpson, “After Midnight”

Everything changes

O, unto the pine-wood At noon of day

Come with me now, Sweet love, away.

James Joyce, “Chamber Music”

 

I’d ne’er entangle

My heart with other fere,

Although I mangle

My joy by staying here.

Arnaut Daniel, “When Sere Leaf Falleth”

My hand knows a thing of two

(remember what turned the wheel? What melted away?)

I can ask it to pluck a rose,

I can ask it to try the doors of mystery.

John Malcolm Brinnin, “John Without Heaven”

I see, in evening air,

How slowly dark comes down on what we do.

Theodore Roethke, “In Evening Air”

A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.

Anne Sexton, “Her Kind”

 

 

Imagine it, a Sophocles complete,

The lost epic of Homer, including no doubt.

His notes, his journals, and his observations

On blindness.

Theodore Weiss, “The Fire at Alexandria”

We speak the literal to inspire

The understanding of a friend.

Robert Frost, “Revelation”

God blooms from the shoulder of the elephant
who becomes courteous to the ant.

Hafiz

How is this possible? How?

Because divine love cannot defy its very self.

Divine love will be eternally true to its own being,

and its being is giving all it can,

at the perfect moment.

Meister Eckhart, “To See As God Sees”

 

No one saw your ghostly

Imaginary lover

State through the window,

And tighten

The scarf at his throat.

Robert Lowell, “The Old Flame”

 

The calm soul knows more than
anything this world can offer
from her beautiful womb.

St. John of the Cross

 

It is most true that the eyes are formed to serve

The inward light, and that the heavenly part.

Sir Philip Sidney, “From Astrophil and Stella”

Need is not quite belief.

Anne Sexton, “With Mercy for the Greedy”

My friend, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find:

The riches left, not got with pain;

The fruitful ground; the quiet mind

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, “My Friend,
the Things That Do Attain”

If it but be a world of agony.—

“Whence camest though & whither goest thou?

How did thy course begin,” I said, “and why?”

Percy Bysshe Shelley, “The Triumph of Life”

For only cool techniques

Can forge the blue-sheened steel

And train the sword-arm’s skill.

Robert Conquest, “Art and Civilization”

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

How it swells!

How it dwells

On the Future! how it tells

Of the rapture that impels

To the swinging and the ringing

Of the bells, bells, bells…

Edgar Allan Poe, “The Bells”

If such a tincture, such a touch,

So firm a longing can impour,

Shall thy own image think it much

To watch for thy appearing hour?

Henry Vaughan, “Cock-Crowing”

Except the bee

Who in its

Gluttony drank

All the toxic

Honey

Nic Meacham, “untitled”

Thy vows are all broken,

And light is thy fame.

Lord Byron, “When We Two Parted”

Tell fortune of her blindness;

Tell nature of decay;

Tell friendship of unkindness;

Tell justice of delay.

Sir Walter Raleigh, “The Lie”

Try again

He knew it, instantly.

He consented, himself, to

The finality of

An event.

Margaret Avison, “For Tinkers Who Travel on Foot”

In the groves of Africa from their natural wonder

The wildebeest, zebra, the okapi, the elephant,

Have entered the marvelous.

No greater marvelous

Know I than the mind’s

Natural jungle.

Robert Duncan, “An African Elegy”

Make feast therefore now all this live long day,

This day for ever to me holy is,

Poure out the wine without restraint or stay,

Poure not by cups, but by the belly full.

Edmund Spenser, “Epithalamion”

If through the effect we drag the cause,

Dissect, divide, anatomize,

Results are lost in loathsome laws,

And all the ancient beauty dies.

Robert Lord Lytton, “The Artist”

Truth may seem, but cannot be,

Beauty brag, but ’tis not she,

Truth and Beauty buried be.

William Shakespeare, “The Phoenix and Turtle”

But words came halting forth wanting Invention’s stay;

Invention, Nature’s child, fled step-dame Study’s blows,

And others’ feet still seemed but strangers in my way.

Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,

“Fool,” said my muse to me, “look in thy heart and write.”

Sir Philip Sidney, “From Astrophil and Stella”

Some winter nights impel us to take in

Whatever lopes outside, beastly or kind.

William Meredith, “On Falling Asleep by Firelight”

Venemous thorns that are so sharp and keen

Bear flowers, we see, full fresh and

fair of hue:

Poison is also put in medicine,

And unto man his health doth oft renew.

Sir Thomas Wyatt, “Pleasure Mixed with Pain”

The answer is no

Think of the still and the flowing.

Edwin Honig, “November Through a Giant Copper Branch”

 

Sometime during eternity

Some guy shows up.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, “Sometime During Eternity”

I tell myself.—It’s dark here on the peak, and keeps on getting darker.

It seems I am experiencing a kind of ecstasy.

Weldon Kess, “Robinson”

You could say

we live in

a life vest mentality

swim for life.

Anne Waldman, “I Am the Guard”

I am the breeze that nurtures all green.

Hildegard of Bingen

There is value

Underneath

The gold and silver

In my teeth.

W.D. Snodgrass, “April Inventory”

I planted you and I will pluck you

When it’s time, said the Lord.

Mary Fabili. “From the Lord and Shingles”

If evil did not exist

She would create it.

W.D. Snodgrass

The glories of our blood and state

Are shadows, not substantial things,

There is no armour against fate,

Death lays his icy hand on Kings.

James Shirley, “Dirge”

The time is right

We breathe and

don’t breathe, lie, pass in the hall, fall

into our arms, live again gone soon.

Hettie Jones, “Welcome to Our Crowd”

 

 

Please call me by true names,

So I can wake up.

And so the door of my heart can be left open.

The door of compassion.

Thich Nhat Hahn

 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying.

Robett Herrick, “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time”

 

Every morning I forget how it is.

I watch the smoke mount

In great strides above the city.

I belong to no one.

Charles Simic, “Poem”

You ask

Why I perch

On a jade green mountain?

Li Po

No virtue can be thought to have priority

Over this endeavor to preserve one’s being.

W.D. Snodgrass, “After Experience Taught Me”

I saw Eternity the other night:

Like a great ring of pure and endless light,

All calm as it was bright.

Henry Vaughan, “The World”

when they scraped me clean of you

i pretended

i had done this before.

perine parker, “abortive reasoning”

I swear the earth shall surely be complete to him
or her who shall be complete.

Walt Whitman, “A Song of the Rolling Earth”

The answer is most definitely

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will come new pleasures prove,

Of golden sands and crystal brooks,

With silken lines and silver hooks.

John Donne, “The Bait”

Once drinking deep of the divinest anguish,

How could I seek the empty world again?

Emily Bronte, “Remembrance”

I would I could adopt your will,

See with your eyes, and set my heart

Beating by yours.

Robert Browning, “Two in the Campagna”

O hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold?

Gary Snyder, “Milton by Firelight”

Ask me no more where those starres light,

That downwards fall in the dead of night;

For in your eyes they sit, and there,

Fix’ed become as in their sphere.

Thomas Carew, “Song”

I would rather thou shouldst painfully repent,

Than by my threatenings rest still innocent.

John Donne, “The Apparition”

Pure of heart! thou needest not ask of me

What this strong music in the soul may be!

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “Dejections: An Ode”

The day we die

The wind comes down

To take away

Our footprints.

Southern Bushmen, “The Way We Die”

Wet your whistle with wine now, for the dog star,
wheeling up the sky,

brings back the summer, the time all things are parched
under the searing heat.

Alcaeus of Mytilene, “Winter Scene”

Of the wide world I stand alone, and think

Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

John Keats, “When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be”

Music, when soft voices die,

Vibrates in the memory.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Music, When Soft Voices Die”

Outcome likely

Wait upon it for

The edge only it gives.

Joanna McClure, “Hard Edge”

Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men
that are dying, remember him.

Robinson Jeffers, “Hurt Hawks”

Even such is time, which takes in trust

Our youth, our joys, and all we have,

And pays us but with age and dust,

Who in the dark and silent grave

When we have wandered all our ways

Shuts up the story of our days,

And from which earth, and grave, and dust

The lord shall raise me up, I trust.

Sir Walter Raleigh, “The Author’s Epitaph, Made by Himself”

Nothing is free and in this truth lies the reality

that freedom is nothingness.

Nic Meacham, “Free”

These two were rapid falcons in a snare,

Condemned to do the flitting of the bat.

George Meredith, “Thus Piteously Love Close What He Begat”

I grow old… I grow old…

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Thomas Stearns Eliot,” The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”

When we would go moving

as people do with purpose

would take apart this room stone by stone

and set ourselves outdoors

to mate with the sun.

Mary Norbert Korte, “The Room Within”

 

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

William Henry Davies, “Leisure”

 

 

Twelve nations

Bleed. Because I love, because

I need cherries, I cannot help them.

My happiness, bought cheap, must last forever.

Lucien Stryk, “Cherries”

I am the rain coming from the dew that causes the
grasses to laugh with joy of life.

Hildegard of Bingen

There, like the wind through woods in riot,

Through him the gale of life blew high.

Alfred Edward Housman, “On Wenlock Edge”

With bars they blur the gracious moon,

And blind the goodly sun:

And they do well to hide their Hell,

For in it things are done.

Oscar Wilde, “The Ballad of Reading Gaol”

 

Confidently proceed

Out of me unworthy and unknown

The vibrations of deathless music.

Edgar Lee Masters, “Anne Rutledge”

When the mind becomes

Your mind, what is left to remember?

Mahadeviyakka

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, “Remember”

But like everyone else I learned

each time nothing new, only that

as it were, a music, however harsh, that held us

however loosely, had stopped, and left

a heavy thick silence in its place.

Denise Levertov, “The Dead”

what well have you crawled out of

what wall have you recalled

perine parker, “backsliding daughters”

From perfect grief there need not be

Wisdom or even memory.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, “The Woodspurge”

But fly our paths, our feverish contact fly!

For strong the infection of our mental strife.

Matthew Arnold, “The Scholar-Gipsy”

After hours of giddy drinking and wild abandon

she found herself under the table

in only her shoes!

ArtAmiss, “The Gift Bag”

And the ground spoke when she was born.

Joy Harjo, “For Alva Benson, and for Those Who Have Learned to Speak”

Who hath not learned, in hours of faith,

The truth to flesh and sense unknown,

That life is ever lord of Death,

And Love can never lose its own!

John Greenleaf Whittier, “Snow Bound; A Winter Idyl”

 

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, “The Lady of Shallot”

It isn’t true about the lambs. They are not meek.

Alice B. Fogel, “The Necessity”

They danced by the light of the moon,

The moon,

The moon,

They danced by the light of the moon.

Edward Lear, “The Owl and the Pussycat”

 

Forgive

Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, “The Habit of Perfection”

Every day I wake far away

from my life, in a foreign country.

Louis Simpson, “American Dreams”

 

 

Powered by words,

a company of voices.

In a fury he spins himself

turning upon the spit of his own burning rays,

and in a passion sings the room ablaze.

Madeline Gleason, “The Interior Castle”

When the bonny blade carouses,

Pockets are full, and spirits high,

What are acres? What are houses?

Only dirt, or wet or dry.

Samuel Johnson, “A Short Song of Congratulation”

 

Little think’st thou

That thou to-morrow,
ere that sun doth wake,

Must with this sun,
and me a journey take.

John Donne, “The Blossome”

 

 

 

 

The living record of your memory.

’Gainst death and all-obvious enmity

Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room

Even in the eyes of all prosperity

That wear this world out to the ending doom.

So, till the judgment that yourself arise,

You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 55”

Knowledge always deceives.

It always limits the Truth, every concept and image does.

Meister Eckhart

The sun may set and rise:

But we contrarywise

Sleep after our short light

One everlasting night.

Sir Walter Raleigh, “From the History of the World”

All extremes must meet;

As some old poet has said:

Out of a little earth

And heaven, was Adam made.

Madeline Gleason, “Lyrics”

Be true

This morning I learned

There are no birds in Guam.

How come?

Mary Fabili, “From Second Monday in May 1988”

Men at forty

Learn to close softly

The doors to rooms they will not be

Coming back to.

Donald Justice, “Men At Forty”

SUTTER MARIN swam in PLAYA ANGEL

made a pact with the angels all mad to be reborn.

ruth weiss, “Post-card 1995”

Fearing making guilt making shame

Making fantasy and logic and game and

Elegance of covering splendour

Emptying memory of the event.

Elise Cowen, “Teacher—Your Body My Kabbalah”

All you need to do is

Look good, and show a little skin.

Jessyka Stinston, “Vine Goddess”

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,

Where wealth accumulates and men decay.

Oliver Goldsmith, “The Deserted Village”

Man is all symmetrie

Full of proportions, one limbe to another,

And all to all the world besides:

Each part may call the farthes, brother.

George Herbert, “Man”

Don’t wait

Perhaps that’s how

It’s supposed to be?

Charles Simic, “Toy Factory”

A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,

Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance.

Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder, “My Galley”

 

Who on Love’s seas more glorious wouldst appear?

Like untuned golden strings all women are,

Which long time lie untouched, will harshly jar.

Vessels of brass, oft handled, brightly shine.

Christopher Marlowe, “Hero and Leander”

Only that Illumined One

Who keeps

Seducing the formless into form

Had the charm to win my heart.

Hafiz

She ran away in everybody’s dreams calling out like a booming flame running running into the lines

of bards and lions lovers and birds running with her arms out wide into the bright flapping dark.

Norbert Korte, “Eddie Mae the Cook Dreamed Sister Mary Ran Off with Allen Ginsberg”

He loves to sit and hear me sing,

Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;

Then stretches out my golden wing,

And mocks my loss of liberty.

William Blake, “How Sweet I Roam’d from Field to Field”

“In my youth,” father William replied to his son,

“I feared it might injure the brain;

But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again.”

Lewis Carroll, “You Are Old, Father William”

Be still, I am content,

Take back your poor compassion

Joy was a flame in me

Too steady to destroy.

Sara Teasdale, “The Answer”

To your eyes, ears, and tongue, and every part.

If then your body go, what need you a heart?

John Donne, “The Blossom”

 

In the end the devil

He always wins

You think you can out run him

But Lord how he can swim.

A. Rae, “Heed”

 

 

True love in every moment praises God.

Longing love brings a sorrow sweet to the pure.

Seeking love belongs to itself alone.

Understanding love gives itself equally to all.

Enlightened love is mingled with the sadness of the world.

Mechtild of Magdeburg

Sad true lover never find my grave

To weep there.

William Shakespeare, “Twelfth Night”

I laugh

But say

Nothing

My heart

Free

Like a peach blossom

Li Po

Live television of what—is a lie.

Charles Olson, “A Later Note On Letter #15”

 

Exterminator does his job, takes his money, leaves.

In the long run of things, he knows who will survive.

Lucien Stryk, “Exterminator”

But don’t worry!

What must come, comes.

Face everything with love,

as your mind dissolves in God.

Lal Ded, translated by Coleman Barks

One word is too often profaned For me to profane it,

One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, “One Word Is Too Often Profaned”

The night knows nothing of the chants of night

It is what it is as

I am what I am.

Wallace Stevens

And lives go on.

And lives go on.

Like sudden lights

At street corners.

Donald Justice, “Bus Stop”

I love the dark race of poets,

And yet there is also happiness. Happiness,

If I can stand it, I can stand anything.

Louis Simpson, “Luminous Night”

If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,

These pretty pleasure might me move

To live with thee, and be thy love.

Sir Walter Raleigh, “The Nymph’s Reply”

Don’t doubt yourself

I am led by the spirit to feed the purest streams.

Hildegard of Bingen

And that each thing exactly represents itself,
and what has preceded it.

Walt Whitman, “All Is Truth”

And now we talk of the “inner life,”

And I ask myself, where is it?

Louis Simpson, “The Silent Piano”

If you have a spirit, lose it.

Lose it to return where with one word,

we came from.

Now, thousands of words, and we refuse to leave.

Rumi

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;

But you shall shine more bright in these contents

Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnet LV”

That I, above all, am chosen—even I

Must find that strange. I who was always

Disobedient, rebellious—smoked in the dining car.

W.D. Snodgrass, “The Fuhrer Bunker”

The whimpering airs that cry by night and never

find their rest

Are sobbing to be taken in and soothed upon my breast.

Enid Derham, “The Wind-Child”

The heavens say yes

How did the rose ever open its heart
and give to this world all of its beauty?

It felt the encouragement of light against its being,
otherwise we all remain too frightened.

Hafiz

But where is he, the Pilgrim of my song,

The being who upheld it through the past?

Lord Byron, CLXIV, from “Canto the Fourth, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage”

I admit to being, at times,

Suddenly, and without the slightest warning,

Exceedingly happy.

Charles Simic, “Heights of Folly”

I have always been at the same time

woman enough to be moved to tears

and man enough

to drive my car in any direction.

Hettie Jones, “Teddy Bears on the Highway”

When the mind is consumed with remembrance of Him something divine happens to the heart that shapes
the hand
and tongue

and eye into the word Love.

Hafiz

From cage to cage the caravan moves, but I give thanks,
for at each divine juncture my wings expand and I touch
Him more intimately.

Meister Eckhart

Love touches love

the temple and the god are one.

Lenore Kandel, “God/Love Poem”

Best of all is to be idle,

And especially on a Thursday,

And to sip wine while studying the light.

Charles Simic, “Against Whatever It Is That’s Encroaching”

 

 

It’s your last chance

Each creature God made must live in its own true nature;

How could I resist my nature, that lives for oneness with God?

Mechtild of Magdeburg

Love alters not with his brief hour and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnets CXVI”

And an old woman with a witch’s stare

Cried “Praise the Lord!”

She vanishes on a bus

With hissing air brakes, like an incubus.

Louis Simpson, “Hot Night on Water Street”

But selfless love bears an effortless fruit, working so quietly even the body cannot say how it comes and goes.

Mechtild of Magdeburg

The miracles that magic will perform

Will make thee vow to study nothing else.

Christopher Marlowe, “Dr Faustus. Act 1”

The answer is yes

For we support all, fuse all,

After the rest is done and gone, we remain.

Walt Whitman, “As I Walk These Broad, Majestic Days”

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 18”

But by and by the cause of my disease

Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,

When that I think what grief it is again

To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, “Alas! So All Things
Now Do Hold Their Peace”

Bills, bills, bills

Thrills, thrills, thrills

Skills, skills, skills

Joanna McClure, “June 18, 1984”

 

Sometimes afraid of reunion,

Sometimes of separation:

You and I,

So fond of the notion of a you and an I,

Should live as though

we’d never heard those pronouns.

Rumi

Peace is always beautiful,

The myth of heaven indicates peace and night.

Walt Whitman, “The Sleepers”

Believe

God, whose love and joy are present everywhere, can’t come to visit you unless you aren’t there.

Angelus Silesius

For most men in a brazen prison live,

Where, in the sun’s hot eye,

With heads bent o’er their toil, they languidly

Their lives to some unmeaning taskwork give

Matthew Arnold, “A Summer Night”

 

In the fire of its making,

Gold doesn’t vanish:

The fire brightens.

Mechtild of Magdeburg

Thy liberality, exceeds my power,

Suffice it, that I thus record thy gifts,

And bear them treasur’d in a grateful mind!

John Milton, “To My Father”

 

Hope smiled when your
nativity was cast.

William Wordsworth, “Flowers on the Top
of the Pillars At the Entrance of the Cave”

 

Be well assured that on our side

The abiding oceans fight.

Rudyard Kipling, “A Song in Storm”

As for the people—see how they neglect you!

Only a poet pauses to read the inscription.

Louis Simpson, “Walt Whitman At Bear Mountain”

Quoth the raven, “Nevermore”

Edgar Allan Poe, “The Raven”

How do I listen to others?

As if everyone were my Master

Speaking to me

His cherished last words.

Hafiz

Maybe

Wisdom is sweeter than honey, brings

more joy than wine, illumines more

than the sun, is more precious

than jewels.

Makeda, Queen of Sheba

A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,

And nothing is gained by not gathering roses.

Robert Lee Frost, “Asking for Roses”

I knuckled under, no regrets

but I’ve always wondered.

Hettie Jones, “Sonnet”

Take of English earth as much

As either hand may rightly clutch.

In the taking of it breathe

Prayer for all who lie beneath.

Rudyard Kipling, “A Charm”

Look within

Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom.

How do they learn it?

They fall, and falling,

they’re given wings.

Rumi

Love is the funeral pyre where I have laid my living body.

Hafiz

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done:

Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud.

Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,

And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.

William Shakespeare, “Sonnet 35”

 

I say them, woman-who-signifies

I light the fire

I sit like a Buddha

I feed the animals outside the door

I blow out the lamp.

Anne Waldman, “Fast Speaking Woman”

By the high verandah pillars, by the rotting bloodwood gates.

Crowded town or dreary seaboard, everywhere some woman waits!

M. Forrest, “The Lonely Woman”

Through love, through hope, and faith’s transcendent dower,

We feel that we are greater than we know.

Alfred Lord Tennyson, “After-Thought”

By the high verandah pillars, by the rotting bloodwood gates.

Crowded town or dreary seaboard, everywhere some woman waits!

M. Forrest, “The Lonely Woman”

 

The Difference Between a good artist

And a great one Is:

The novice

Will often lay down his tool

Or brush

Then pick up an invisible club

On the mind’s table

And helplessly smash the easels and

Jade.

Whereas the vintage man

No longer hurts himself or

Anyone and keeps on

Sculpting

Light.

Hafiz

The roses in the gypsy’s window in a blue vase,
look real, as unreal.

Denise Levertov, “The Gypsy’s Window”

But O! the heavy change, now thou art gone,

Now thou art gone, and never must return!

John Milton, “Lycidas”

 

Ironic, but one of the most intimate

acts of our body is death.

So beautiful appeared my death—knowing who
then I would kiss,

I died a thousand times before I died.

Rabia

 

A fish cannot drown in water,
a bird does not fall in air.

Mechtild of Magdeburg

 

‘Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?

Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?

William Shakespeare, “Venus and Adonis”

And olden memories

Are startled from their long repose

Like shadows on the silent snows.

Abijah M. Ide, “To Isadore”

While the milder fates consent,

Let’s enjoy our merriment.

Robert Herrick, “A Lyric to Mirth”

 

I bring you with reverent hands

The books of my numberless dreams

William Butler Yeats, “A Poet to His Beloved”

in egypt

they tell the days

by the strings in their beads.

ruth weiss, “The Brink”

This poem is not addressed to you.

You may come into it briefly,

But no one will find you here, no one.

You will have changed before the poem will.

Donald Justice, “Poem”

The sky is always ours,

even though we are crowded together.

Louise Nayer, “Dream of the Uninterrupted Moss”

And out-lived illusions rise,

And the soft leaves of the landscape

Open on my thoughtful eyes.

Jennings Carmichael, “An Old Bush Road”

Yearn for the good

Only a moment, as clocks can reckon,

Dwells the soul at that height of heights.

John Le Gay Brereton, “Middle Harbour”

And grateful, that by nature’s quietness

And solitary musings, all my heart

Is softened, and made worthy to indulge

Love, and the thoughts that yearn for human kind.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “Fears in Solitude”

Love is that that never sleeps,

nor even rests, nor stays

for long with those that do.

Love is language

that cannot be said,

or heard.

Rumi

 

Only a Perfect One

Who is always laughing at the word

Two

Can make you know

Of

Love.

Hafiz, “Laughing at the Word Two”

I was delighted with myself,

having offered everything I had;

my heart my faith, my work.

“And who are you,” you said,

“to think you have so much to offer?

It seems you have forgotten

where you’ve come from.”

Rumi

You in whose ultimate madness we live,

You flinging yourself out into the emptiness,

You—like us—great an instant,

O only universe we know, forgive us.

Galway Kinnell, “On Frozen Fields”

Look to the weather bow,

Breakers are round thee;

Let fall the plummet now,

Shallows may ground thee.

Caroline Bowles Southey, “Mariner’s Hymn”

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

All speaks of change: the renovated forms

Of long-forgotten thins arise again.

Sir Humphry Davy, “Written After Recovery from a Dangerous Illness”

Such sailing and gilding,

Such sinking and sliding,

Such lofty curvetting,

And grand pirouetting

Richard Harris Barham, “The Witches’ Frolic”

 

So for this night I linger here,

And full tossings to and fro,

Expect still when thou wilt appear

That I may get me up, and go.

Henry Vaughn, “The Pilgrimage”

Perhaps

I shall prosper,

I shall yet remain alive.

Takelma (Oregon) “Medicine Formula”

I watched you lay your athletes body down

Across the railroad earth

To make a bridge for souls

Helen Weaver, “For Jack”

The rest of my days I spend

wandering: wondering

what, anyway,

was that sticky infusion, that rank flavor of blood,
that poetry, by which I lived?

Galway Kinnell, “The Bear”

 

Drumsound rises on the air,
its throb, my heart.

A voice inside the beat says,
“I know you’re tired, but come.
This is the way.”

Rumi

 

There is a Power whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast.

William Cullen Bryant, “To a Waterfowl”

Found a family, build a state,

The pledged event is still the same.

Herman Melville, “Fragments of a Lost Gnostic
Poem of the 12th Century”

Some for the Glories of This World; and some

Sigh for the Prophet’s Paradise to come;

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,

Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!

Edward Fitzgerald, “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”

The way of love is not a subtle argument.

The door there is devastation.

Rumi

I am the self-consumer of my woes—

They rise and vanish in oblivion’s host.

John Clare, “I Am”

Poetry, he don’t work for the city.

He dumps your garbage onto a blank page.

You don’t recognize it.

You call it beautiful.

Julia Vinograd, “From Poetry”

O, or that full bliss of though allied,

Never to mortals given,

O, la thye lovely dreams aside,

Or lift them unto heaven!

Felicia Hemans, “The Childe’s Destiny”

 

Try again

Again!

Come, give, yield all your strength to me!

James Joyce, “A Prayer”

For we are the same things our fathers have been;

We see the same sights that our fathers have seen.

William Knox, “Why Should the Spirit of Mortal Be Proud?”

Children can easily open the drawer that lets

the spirit rise up and wear

Its favorite

costume of mirth and laughter.

Hafiz

We know nothing until we know everything.

St. Catherine of Siena

Insects on a bough floating downriver, still singing.

Issa, “In This World”

 

There is a garden in her face,

Where roses and white lilies grow;

A heavenly paradise is that place,

Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.

Thomas Campian

Hail divinest Melancholy,

Whose saintly visage is too bright

To hit the sense of human sight.

John Milton, “Il Penseroso”

Now let us sport us while we may,

And now, like amorous birds of prey,

Rather at once our time devour

Than languish in his slow-chapped power.

Andrew Marvell, “To His Coy Mistress”

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact.

William Shakespeare, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”

 

 

It is the rain

And all the sadness in the world

Won’t make it stop.

Mary Fabili, “From the Priest”

I strive to mix some gladness with my strain,

But the sad strings complain,

And will not please the ear.

James Russell Lowell, “Commemoration Ode”

All signs point to yes

Loosened from the minor’s tether;

Free to mortgage or to sell.

Samuel Johnson, “A Short Song of Congratulations”

In moons and tides and weather wise,

He reads the clouds as prophecies.

John Greenleaf Whittier, “Snow-Bound; A Winter Idyl”

The still air moves, the wide room is less dim

Richard W. Gilder, “Dawn”

 

Cannibals love their food and don’t hate anyone

Cannibals sing at the smell of dinner cooking

Listen to their happy music.

Julia Vinograd, “Cannibal Music”

I do not own an inch of land,

But all I see is mine.

Lucy Larcom, “A Strip of Blue”

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keepe time with my salt teares.

Benjamin Jonson, “Song”

What now?

any moment the question—the only answer!

ruth weiss, “Single Out”

He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man

James Beattie, “The Hermit”

My mind was once the true survey

Of all these meadows fresh and gay.

Andrew Marvell, “The Mower’s Song”