November 19, 2008

  • War

     

    The trembling finger of a woman

    Goes down the list of casualties

    On the evening of the first snow.

     

    The house is cold and the list is long.

     

    All our names are included. 

    Charles Simic

     

     

    A word is dead

     

    A word is dead

    When it is said,

    Some say.

     

    I say it just

    begins to live

    that day. 

    Emily Dickinson

     

     

     

    Haiku 3

     

    I think if I catch

    Your breath and take it inside

    Me you will stay. 

    Sonia Sanchez

     

     

     

    Memory

     

    My mind lets go a thousand things,

    Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,

    And yet recalls the very hours –

    ‘Twas noon by yonder village tower

    And on the last blue noon in May –

    The wind came briskly up this way,

    Crisping the brook beside the road;

    Then, pausing here, set down its load

    Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly

    Two petals from that wild-rose tree. 

    Thomas Bailey Aldrich

     

     

     

    Love is a sickness full of woes

     

    Love is a sickness full of woes

    All remedies refusing;

    A plant that with most cutting grows,

    Most barren with best using

    Why so?

    More we enjoy it, more it dies;

    If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,

    Hey ho.

    Love is a torment of the mind,

    A tempest everlasting;

    An Jove hath made of a kind,

    Not well, nor full nor fasting.

    Why so?

    More we enjoy it, more it dies;

    If not enjoyed, it sighing cries,

    Hey ho.

    Samuel Daniel

     

     

     

    From “The Last Fruit off an Old Tree”

     

    I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;

    Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;

    I warmed both hands before the fire of Life;

    It sinks; and I am ready to depart 

    Walter Savage Landor

     

     

     

    Love

     

    So, the year’s done with!

    (Love me forever!)

    All march begun with,

    April’s endeavor;

    May-wreaths that bound me

    June needs must sever;

    Now snows fall round me,

    Quenching June’s fever –

    (Love me forever!) 

    Robert Browning

     

     

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