Creative

 

          I am including here some things that I have read...some things that I have written.  I include those that have somehow caused an inner chord to resonate...

Japanese Writers  Ryokan   Haiku  I also like this site: Poetry Mountain.

Some of mine  HOME Table of Contents

POEMS: 

A few of my favorites:

I just recently heard this one:

 
I love you in ways you'll never know
In light rain beneath piers
Beside bonfires in February
Embers in March
By lonesome prairies I've forgotten
Where wild horses run in silhouettes
Between the moon and my memory
And I think of you in the wind
When I turn up my collar to light a cigarette

In the night when I undress
I sigh and dream of Rome before I'm asleep
And miles and miles of blue sky
That stretch from California
To New York

 

Come

Come, when the pale moon like a petal

Floats in the pearly dusk of spring,

Come with arms outstretched to take me,

Come with lips pursed up to cling.

 

Come now, for life is a frail moth flying,

Caught in the web of the years that pass,

And soon we two, so warm and eager,

Will be as the gray stones in the grass.

Sarah Teasdale

 

                                I like this by James Kavanaugh:

"I was born to catch dragons in their den

And pick flowers

To tell tales and laugh away the morning...

To drift and dream like a lazy stream

And walk barefoot across sunset days..."

*******

Last Words of Crowfoot, Blackfoot Warrior and Orator, 1890 At least this supposedly his last words...

 

"What is life?

It is the flash

of a firefly in the night.

It is the breath of a buffalo

in the wintertime.

It is the little

shadow which runs across the grass

and loses itself in the sunset."

 

                        The following poem affected me deeply when I read it...I'm not sure why.

 

"My sincere hope is

to leave the world in Spring

Under the blooming cherry--

In February, if possible,

On the eve of the full moon."

Sanka Shu

 

                      It led me to write the following:

 

Leave Taking

 

Shall I leave in the summer

 while cicadas shrill and

The nights are full of gardenia

and honeysuckle?

 

Or shall I leave in Autumn

with Crimson maples and

The harvest moon?

 

Perhaps in Winter with

the sting of sleet and

the rattle of bare branches

in a hopeless wind?

 

No! I want to go in

early Spring with

crocus and nodding daffodils

in a light mist with

rain dripping from the eaves...

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