Guide Plum Delight: Poetry Of The Earth

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Spencer Reece b. Leigh Hunt Sonnets from the Portuguese How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they Billy-Ray Belcourt. Say this Was something reported as news On a day when your life came to no good. The new homeless drifting from row houses Along streets tamped down by the heedless And paved in afterthought. Out of hollows James Langer b. Laurentian Shield Hidden in wonder and snow, or sudden with summer, This land stares at the sun in a huge silence Endlessly repeating something we cannot hear.


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Inarticulate, arctic, Not written on by history, empty as paper, Scott Under the Answering Sky I can manage being alone, can pace out convivial hope across my managing ground. Someone might call, later. I would catch, not my echo, but their guarantee that this Denise Riley b.

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That fire known as Fog. The onion is the way fog has of entering the earth. Into the soil. Through the green leaves of the onion Channel Firing That night your great guns, unawares, Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window-squares, We thought it was the Judgment-day And sat upright. While drearisome Arose the howl of wakened hounds: The mouse let fall the altar-crumb, The worms drew back into the mounds, The Thomas Hardy When I was a little girl At Shubenacadie school.

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You snatched it away: I speak like you I think like you I create like you The scrambled ballad, about my word. Two ways I talk Both ways I say, Your way is more powerful. Rita Joe — Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed, The Bullets chirped — In vain!


  • Plum Delight: Poetry Of The Earth by Jean Ann Shirey (4 star ratings);
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Machine-guns chuckled, — Tut-tut! And the Big Gun guffawed. Wilfred Owen Gerard Manley Hopkins Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless William Wordsworth Newfoundland Sealing Disaster Sent to the ice after white coats, rough outfit slung on coiled rope belts, they stooped to the slaughter: gaffed pups, slit them free of their spotless pelts.

The storm Michael Crummey b. Nicole Brossard b. A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught Amy Lowell K was supposed to come with the key, I was K was supposed to come with the key, I was to wait outside the gate. I arrived on time, the time we had agreed on and waited, as agreed, outside the gate.

I waited a long time, waited and waited, waited a very long time. I stood next to the security guard from Securitas, who also stood outside the gate. I waited, the security guard Ulrikka Gernes b.

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Why, Because the Dazzling Sun Ah! I was at peace, and drank your beams Anne Carson b. The Dead How great unto the living seem the dead! How sacred, solemn; how heroic grown; How vast and vague, as they obscurely tread The shadowy confines of the dim unknown! Charles Heavysege My Brother at 3 A. He sat cross-legged, weeping on the steps when Mom unlocked and opened the front door. O God, he said.

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O God. He wants to kill me, Mom. When Mom unlocked and opened the front door at 3 a. He wants to kill me, he Natalie Diaz. Robert Creeley Through the windows — through doors — burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet — no happiness must he have now with his bride, Nor the peaceful farmer any peace, ploughing his field or Walt Whitman Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove.

Confessions What is he buzzing in my ears? Robert Browning Bear up, bear out, bear onward This mortal soul alone, To selfhood or oblivion, Incredibly thine own, — As the foamheads are loosened And blown along the sea, Or sink and Bliss Carman Old Ironsides Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!

Oliver Wendell Holmes II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of Wallace Stevens Donato Mancini. I Have Not Lingered in European Monasteries I have not lingered in European monasteries and discovered among the tall grasses tombs of knights who fell as beautifully as their ballads tell; I have not parted the grasses or purposefully left them thatched Leonard Cohen Raymond Souster - Norman Dubie b.

Sighing, I sit, scribbling in ink this pidgin script. I sing with nihilistic witticism, disciplining signs with trifling gimmicks — impish hijinks which highlight stick sigils.

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But I cannot leave them Adebe D. Salmon Courage Here at Woodlands, Moriah, these thirty-five years later, still I could smell her fear. Then, the huddled hills would not have calmed her, now as they do me. Then, the view did not snatch the panting breath, now, as it does these thirty-five years later, to the day, I relive the journey of my salmon mother. NourbeSe Philip b. Dear Updike I dreaded those future aeons when I would not be present — an endless succession of days I would miss, with their own news and songs and styles of machine.

Evelyn Lau b. Experience The lords of life, the lords of life, — I saw them pass, In their own guise, Like and unlike, Portly and grim, — Use and Surprise, Surface and Dream, Succession swift and spectral Wrong, Temperament without a tongue, And the inventor of the game Omnipresent without name; — Some to see, some to Ralph Waldo Emerson Her conscious tail her joy declared; The fair round face, the snowy beard, The Thomas Gray Wolf Lake It was down that road he brought me, still in the trunk of his car.

The way you know your blood can spring like a hydrant. That September, the horseflies were Elizabeth Bachinsky b.

plumanulam.tk Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

FRANCIS T. PALGRAVE

Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow John Keats If Stone Dreams We cannot know this statue, this satyr with his head propped on a wineskin; we cannot know if he dreams. For what has been lost we are to blame, for what has been kept to be thrown away.

Mary di Michele b. Charles Lamb Of many was I sought their mistress for to be. But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore: Go, go, go, seek some other where; importune me no more.

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How many weeping eyes I made to pine in woe, How many sighing hearts I have not skill to show, But I the prouder Queen Elizabeth I Christina Rossetti There are secret passwords you Joy Kogawa b. Portrait of Alice with Elvis Queen and King, they rule side by side in golden thrones above the clouds. Stephanie Bolster b.

Joanne Arnott b. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. Ezra Pound The trees, their bark, their leaves, even the dead ones, are more vibrant wet. Each moment is like this — before Claudia Rankine b. Susie Asado Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea. Susie Asado. Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.