Poetic Discovery- Laurie Sheck

The following poem is one I found on www.poetryfoundation.org. Laurie Sheck is a talent Im reading more from and really enjoying. Hope you enjoy her too.

No Summer as yet by Laurie Sheck

And no summer as yet, but it will come with its bright pieces of whatever,

Sorted by the eye yet still uncaptured,

Greenly branched and various with promise. I'd like to watch it long enough,

Held fast by the laws of its sequencings and shapings, and be so carried, the way the mind goes in

Search of an after that will temper what has come before,

Or sometimes not—: Did I tell you of the man I visited last week, who hasn't lost the ability

To move his tongue, his lips, to laugh or cry or sing or use his voice, yet is unable

To utter any words, just a few unintelligible syllables,

And recognizing this, stares into the fact of it

As at the eggs in an opened anthill? I don't know how to think of him. We are so rawly made,

So carried into the harsh and almost-dark.

As if stung in the throat. As if seared by a narrow wire-like blaze

Sharply upon the air and always.

Flashlight Rock by Sean Mahoney

The fiery Indian Paintbrushes,

the gloomy blue Columbines,

the rhino shaped rocks

are pushed out of the way

by the bossy river

like a diva stepping on stage.

She suckles the rainbow trout.

She teases fisherman

in green rubber boots

and floppy canvas hats.

She easily wins

the battles with black bears

and ornery mountain cats.

She's soft sometimes too.

She gently glides bouncy inner tubes

towards the red flashlight shaped rock.

She sings to the campers as they sleep.

Yet her friendship is not ours to keep.

The prickly purple thistles,

the red raspberry bushes,

the jittery hummingbirds

were witnesses that day

when the old man's heart

got carried away.

She sailed him safely

pass the icy swimming hole.

She pushed hard with currents

when he was ready to let go.

The glow from the red flashlight rock

was a lighthouse for the man.

The river did her job.

She did not look back.

She kept moving

strong.

Mechanics

Somebody else's
curly haired
kids,
with lengthy lashes
and heart shaped lips,
sneak down the stairs
as I sleep.

They stick tape
on my hairy arms.
"We're fixing you",
they say.

I laugh
drowsily
and let them
get back to work.

Poems I Love- Resume by Dorothy Parker

'Resume'

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp;
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Dorothy Parker

Poems I Love- We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks

We Real Cool

We real cool.

We Left school.

We Lurk late.

We Strike straight.

We Sing sin.

We Thin gin.

We Jazz June.

We Die soon.

- Gwendolyn Brooks

August 2009

Breeze moves trees.

Fleas bite knees.

Summer's disease

has now claimed

the likes of me.

Suddenly, I'm brave

some sort of a winner

a brand new teal Mustang.

A fried chicken dinner.

But I'm supposed to loaf,

to linger

on this little vacation.

Not be a ballad singer

or a fucking inspiration.

Fruity iced teas

Grilled burgers with cheese

aren't found in the free clinic

with the likes of me.

It takes far too long.

It happens too fast.

This sweltering season

has caught up with my past.

I hope to be as cool as Jill Scott someday.

Here's a little live poetry that inspires me beyond belief. Jill Scott is a genius.

Poems I Love- Advice to a Friend Who Paints by Kelly Cherry

Advice to A Friend Who Paints

Consider shy Cezanne,

the lay of the land he loved,

its dumbstruck vanity polite and brute.

The bather in his sketchy suit.

The skull upon the mute pull of cloth.

In your taxing and tearing, tugging at art,

consider shy Cezanne.

His blushing apples.

His love of man.

- Kelly Cherry

puddle song- a blackberry poem

through the rain
i see a taxi
the words
"sunny state"
painted on the side.

it looks a little sketchy
so i don't think
i'll take a ride.

although,
its where I should be going
cause lately i've been knowing
i really need to change my mind.
see the name said it.
a sunny state
is something
i should try to find.

yet the rain said,
"forget it.

you can't really leave the puddles behind"

floating away- a blackberry created poem

We giant balloons
lumber like drunken buffoons
in holiday parades
on city avenues.
The crowd is amazed
at this silly parade
of fools like us
who should be floating away.

The bottles, the baggies,
the secret stashes
the broken hearts
are scattered like ashes.
We stay right now.
We stay today.
So the sadness and not us
Can be floating away.

And I didn't even know it!

A poetry gauntlet has been thrown down. A challenge to create mass amounts of poetry during 2010. Compared to the mass amounts of drama I created in 2009, I think this is a challenge I can handle. To get myself warmed up, kind of like a "Jane Fonda Workout" for poetry, I'll be posting older works and works by favorite poets for the next few weeks as the year comes to a close. My personal goal? One new poem a week, minimum. More if I'm feeling super inspired.

I've always loved writing poems so this will be a return to a lovely former self that I've been out of touch with. A poetry superhero may emerge this year and if not maybe I'll just have a good time.

So keep looking here for new poems, my favorite poems, and some old works of mine! In the meantime, maybe you should join me in this poetry fest?