Friday, April 26, 2013

National Poetry Month

By Terry Orr

So who is your favorite Poet or Poets?

Follow this link to a good list of top poets  with a brief bio of each.

Langston Hughes

I, Too, Sing America
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"

Then. Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (

How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

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 to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

I believe each of us have our favorite poems and poets – and have probably written a few along the way – perhaps you will share some of them with us? We would truly enjoy reading your comments, list of poets and poems.  Thank you.

 (All images from Google) 

1 comment:


    Her eyes pop open, at the ceiling she does stare
    She wiggles her toes to make sure she is fully aware.
    Her feet hit the floor with a resounding boom
    She puts one in front of the other and exits the room.

    To the kitchen she meanders with a purpose in mind
    A cup of hot coffee is what she must find
    Half stumbling, and mumbling its her memory she seeks
    Through the panes in her door she see the dog as it peeks.

    Everything must wait till that coffee falls into her cup
    Nothing can block her path, not a phone call, nor even a pup
    Coffee with creme brûlée, the aroma is amazing to smell
    She cannot talk, or laugh, first this coffee has a story to tell

    She yearns for the taste and knows it will transform her
    It hits her lips and she takes a sip, amazed at how it warms her
    All is good in this world, as this cup of bliss calms her soul
    Its coffee, that starts her day with zest, it makes her feel un-old

    Now she is good for the day, its funny how the body can react
    To beans that are heated and steamed, for such an impact
    It is a liquid with powers beyond measure
    Oh how it lifts her day, adding such pleasure.

    Juanita Smith