During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in.
Interloper by Susan Minot
There’s a cat up on the roof
with stripes across his face.
He has the curious guarded look
of a cat who knows this place
may be inhabited
by other cats.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. Our favorite Scot sent this in. It is an excerpt from The Brus, an epic poem by John Barbour written in 1375. You can find the complete text here and this dictionary may be helpful.
The Brus, John Barbour
A! Fredome is a noble thing!
Fredome mays man to haiff liking.
Fredome all solace to man giffis,
He levys at es that frely levys!
John Barbour, The Brus.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. Our thanks to Diane who submitted the following poem by W.H. Auden. Like all great poems, it never gets tired.
Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. This comes from Catherine who writes that O’Reilly “is by a poet with a long history of political activism. He was transported to Australia, ended up in the US and was editor of The Pilot here in Boston around the end of the 1800’s.”
The Cry of the Dreamer by John Boyle O’Reilly
I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. We are thrilled with the response and interest this small daily feature has generated. If you would like to suggest a poem you like, please email it in. The following poem comes to us from Elizabeth Thomas.
Children Learn What They Live, by Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D.
If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. Pete Jackson sent this in. These are lyrics by Ben Harper. You can listen to a version which he sings with Jack Johnson here.
With My Own Two Hands by Ben Harper
I can change the world
With my own two hands
Make it a better place
With my own two hands
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. This one comes to us from someone fond of food and the natural world.
Honey by Robert Morgan
Only calmness will reassure
the bees to let you rob their hoard.
Any sweat of fear provokes them.
Approach with confidence, and from
the side, not shading their entrance.
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in.
Men and Boys by Leo Dangel
My boy has reached that age
when he wants to do the driving.
Near noon, as we go home
with a load of bales,
he drives the tractor, and I stand
Every Easter vacation my mother took my brother, sister, to visit my grandparents in Las Cruces, New Mexico. It was a magical place with wonderful words like mesquite, chapparal, cottonwood, chile, pecan, and mesa. During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in.
Shadows passed over the mesa . . . , by Gary Young
Shadows passed over the mesa, and I saw six eagles sail across the
valley. They rode thermals until they were almost out of sight,
During April, National Poetry Month, we are posting a poem a day. If you would like to suggest one, please email it in. The following poem was written several years ago by Michael Higgins, now the President of Ireland. It was submitted by Catherine King who notes, “It is a coming of age poem he wrote for his daughter Mary Alice.”
The Age of Flowers, by His Excellency Michael D. Higgins
My child woman daughter
Has been given a gift of flowers
But she wants to go gather balloons