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Monday, November 26, 2012

Blandeur by Kay Ryan

If it pleases God,
Let less happen.
Even out earth's
rondure, flatten
the Grand Canyon.
Make valleys
slightly higher,
Widen fissures
to arable land,
Remand your
terrible glaciers
and silence
their calving,
halving or doubling.
All geographical features
toward the mean.
Unlean against our hearts,
Withdraw your grandeur
from these parts.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Fed Up With It!

Fed up with it
as if a song
is sung over and over
for years
without inspiring,
On and off,
but without
updated interests;
Now building up
something
that corrects,
the field on both
sides of the fence
move and integrate-
as one.  what
beauty when
seen under the sun
and they love the run.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Celebration for My Mother By Wendy Rose


mother is the best comfort at baby times 

 

Tickled,
My thoughts wander
through the whys and wherefores
of your hollybranch life,
Yet wonder where it all began,
When now I see it ending.
.
Watch you looking somewhere else, shut down,
nibbling at your mud-foot,
Brushing the cat hairs from your lap.
I perspired in your world twenty five years
and think I could have known better
than to roll heavily on the perimeter
of ethnic pride. I deserve to die with the grace
of each question forming in my eyes
that are darker than yours, and wider.
.
But I couldn't share my pain with you.
There in our separate hiding rooms.
I try not to lose that tiny thread
connecting happy to sad.
So, my thoughts remain iridescent
and tender when I reach the question
I send blowing through your hair:
please believe in me.

Monday, November 5, 2012

The Banyan Tree, Old Year's Night By Derek Walcott





In the damp park, no larger than a stamp,
The rainbow bulbs of the year's end are looped.
To link the withered fountain, and each lamp
flickers like echoes where small savages whooped.
.
The square was this town's center, but its spokes
burn like a petered pinwheel of dead streets,
Turning in mind the squibs of boyish jokes,
Candy-striped innocents and sticky sweets.
.
Soaring from littered roots, blackened with rain,
With inaccessible arms the banyan tree
Heavens in the year's last drizzle to explain.
What age could not, responsibility?


Banyan Tree

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