Poems: Excerpts from poets.org found May and June 2020
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A Painter's Thoughts
by John Yau
I want to paint in a way that the “I” disappears into the sky and trees
The idea of a slowed down, slowly unfolding image held my attention
Variations on a theme are of no interest. A bowl and cup are not ideas.
I want my painting to be what it contains: it should speak, not me
The idea of a slowed down, slowly unfolding image held my attention
I paint things made of clay, just as the pigments I use come from the earth
I want my painting to be what it contains: it should speak, not me
Brown and ochre stoneware bowls beside a white porcelain pitcher
I paint things made of clay, just as the pigments I use come from the earth
....
This is an excerpt. Read the other 7 lines at:
https://poets.org/poem/fifth-day
Prompts (for High School Teachers Who Write Poetry)
by Dante Di Stefano
<35 lines, ending>
... Write the uncounted hours you spent
fretting about the ones who cursed you out
for keeping order, who slammed classroom doors,
who screamed “you are not my father,” whose pain
unraveled and broke you, whose pain you knew.
Write how all this added up to a life.
This is an excerpt. Read the first 35 lines at:
https://poets.org/poem/prompts-high-school-teachers-who-write-poetry
My Eighteen-Month-Old Daughter Talks to the Rain as the Amazon Burns
by Dante Di Stefano
Lark of my house,
keep laughing.
—Miguel Hernández
this little lark says hi
to the rain—she calls
river as she slaps
the air with both wings—
she doesn’t know pine
from ash or cedar
from linden—she greets
drizzle & downpour
alike—she doesn’t
know iceberg from melt—
can’t say sea level
rise—
This is an excerpt. Read the other 38 lines at:
https://poets.org/poem/my-eighteen-month-old-daughter-talks-rain-amazon-burns
On the Fifth Day
by Jane Hirshfield
On the fifth day
the scientists who studied the rivers
were forbidden to speak
or to study the rivers.
The scientists who studied the air
were told not to speak of the air,
and the ones who worked for the farmers
were silenced,
and the ones who worked for the bees.
Someone, from deep ...
This is an excerpt. Read the other 20 lines at:
Consider the Hands that Write This Letter
by Aracelis Girmay
Consider the hands
that write this letter.
The left palm pressed flat against the paper,
as it has done before, over my heart,
in peace or reverence
to the sea or some beautiful thing
I saw once, felt once: snow falling
like rice flung from the giants' wedding....
This is an excerpt. Read the other 23 lines at:
https://poets.org/poem/consider-hands-write-letter
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