there is magic in the air tonight
the moon is bathing the land in night
owl eyed Athena is looking down on me
faces stare at me
a warrior
a priestess
i am reading the iliad it is time
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Saturday, May 2, 2009
may
they were told that this is the day to do that
others gathered in the city to shout out their frustration
most were boiling closed up in their cars with demanding bored children
dreaming the nightmare of the coming summer
a perfect day for hammering poor flowers onto cloth
in the morning I boiled it with bark
when it dried I dipped in watery milk, dried, dipped etc 4 times
it was windy and sunny
in the evening I went gathering in the garden
and spent part of the night hammering, joyfully
lesson of the day: when soaking cloth in milky water keep any dogs occupied. they are attracted by the milk and wiil tip the bowl over to lap up the milk the moment you turn your back

and a may poem
e e cummings
19
may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and hungry and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling the sky over him with one smile
in the pictures: roses, poppies, geranium petals, leaves (various)
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