111 posts categorized "Poetry"

The secret of who you are

TearsMitza's reading / Sept. 2010

“You never know what may cause them, tears ...

You can never be sure, but of this you can be sure: whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are but more often than not, god is speaking to you.”

~ an excerpt from Tears by Frederick Buechner

Thank you Alan Grayson

SittinginthesnowOur healthcare system is like that old rusty couch sittin' by the side of the road / Feb. 2010

“The government spent billions of dollars creating a Medicare network of providers that is only open to one-eighth of the population. That’s like saying, ‘Only people 65 and over can use federal highways.’ It is a waste of a very valuable resource and it is not fair. This idea is simple, it makes sense, and it deserves an up-or-down vote.”

~ Congressman Alan Grayson

Today Congressman Alan Grayson introduced the Public Option Act, that would allow all Americans to buy into Medicare at cost. The bill is 4 pages long and lets any American choose an unsubsidized Medicare option over private insurance. The bill requires the Secretary of Health and Human Services to establish enrollment periods, coverage guidelines, and premiums. Because premiums would be equal to cost, the program would pay for itself.

A mountain has eyes

SnowwhiteOn the mountain / Mt. House / Feb. 2010

Anthropomorphism has its place. It's
a starting point, at least. So, I'll say
if i have eyes, then a mountain has eyes,
and whatever happens after that
is poetry, where i become lost,
and there are no conditions, no
consequences. There's only the mountain,


Watery springs gossip sweet news, gurgling
falling from my throat, calling,
calling, calling: come, always, I Am
here; I Am/Mountain all around, above,
below, within. Come, there is nowhere to go...
I AM/singing, the Sound that is always here...

~ an excerpt from How to Talk with a Mountain by Elaine Maria Upton

In a tumultuous privacy of storm

Snowyellowhouse At the garden's end / New Jersey / Feb. 2010

“Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.”

~ Emerson, The Snow Storm

The youness of you

Wintersnap Pondering 'youness' and on the lookout for the brightening veils ... / New Jersey / Jan. 2010

“The essence of a thing is always elusive and hidden. The dream of art and prayer is to come nearer, even to slip through to dwell for a while in the vicinity of the essence. Daily life is blurred. We live between endless layers of darkening and occasionally brightening veils, but for the most part we remain outside the walls of what Kant affectionately called: 'the thing in itself.' We manage merely to live in the neighbourhood of things. Their essence is beyond our reach. The essence of a person is even more elusive. The medieval mind used the word 'ineffable' to suggest the essence of individuality. Your essence is the utter 'isness', the utter 'youness' of you.”

~ John O'Donohue, The Beauty of the Flaw from Beauty, The Invisible Embrace

With a flick of the wrist

Ano2010 To the new year and fashioning the ropes that will hold us / New Jersey / Jan 2010

To make us say: yes, oui, si.
“Even asleep we partake in the becoming of the world.”
Endurance comes only from enduring.
With a flick of the wrist I fashioned an invisible rope,
And climbed it and it held me.

~ an excerpt from A Magic Mountain by Czeslaw Milosz

I simply leave this mark of blue


What a delight to knit with a yarn that changes colors and forms a kind of rhythm as you knit — I disregarded the pattern and kept knitting until I ran out of yarn to form a big collar; and what fun to finish a sweater in time to wear it for Christmas Eve / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“Assuming I am a pleasant companion
with rhythm and a voice
and I depart

my hands having been
placed upon your
my fingerprints
upon your glass.

I simply leave this mark of blue

blue print.”

~ Blue Print by New Jersey poet Yictove (former host of the New York City Knitting Factory Series; his given name was Eugene Melvin Turk; his adopted name "Yictove" means "He will write")

Dear Readers: I hope I have been a pleasant companion this past year as I struggle to find my rhythm and voice. Thank you for stopping to place your hands and eyes upon my wall. With love and wishes for delightful new rhythms in the new year, Jelisava

The tender breeze of storms

Bridge_ice_pPaulo visits the river where the frigid wind has whipped the water onto the banks, creating icy sculptures / Delaware River and Tacony Bridge from the Jersey side / Dec. 2009

   they set the sails of their
the seas
   looked surprised
       as they stared into the tender breeze of storms

~ Gods Small Beings (08) by Iranian poet Robab Moheb

Ungraspable and sewing

Threadcount Sewing keeps hands and mind busy; keeps things at bay; colorful threads soothe and delight / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“... Ungraspable and sewing
she listens to the wind passing by
fatigued on account of the birds.”

~ an excerpt from The Time of Birds by Colombian poet Luz Mary Giraldo

It replicates in endless haloes

I don't ever remember the summer Black-eyed Susans still blooming in December; they must like the often-warm and frequently-wet weather we've had this fall / New Jersey / Dec. 2009

“I sing praise to the play of the spirit, it replicates in endless haloes, tears loose from tangles, then in soft tissue waits for a new manifestation.”

~ an excerpt from Lesser Psalms by Edvard Kocbek