
Archive for the ‘The Daily Poems’ Category
Marion Clarke – Haiku
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged haiku, Marion Clarke on March 9, 2023| Leave a Comment »
Haiku by Adjei Agyei-Baah, Ghana
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, Poetry Lessons, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged Adjei Agyei-Baah, Ghana, haiku on January 14, 2023| Leave a Comment »
“The Unicorn in Captivity” by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Posted in Images, The Daily Poems, tagged Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Christ, the unicorn in captivity, Unicorn on November 23, 2022| Leave a Comment »
Here sits the Unicorn
In captivity;
His bright invulnerability
Captive at last;
The chase long past,
Winded and spent,
By the king’s spears rent;
Collared and tied
To a pomengranate tree-
Here sits the Unicorn
In captivity,
Yet free.
Here sits the Unicorn;
His overtakelessness
Bound by a circle small
As a maid’s embrace;
Ringed by a round corral;
Pinioned in place
By a fence of scarlet rail,
Fragile as a king’s crown,
Delicately laid down
Over horn, hoofs, and tail,
As a butterfly net
Is lightly set.
He could leap the corral,
If he rose
To his full white height;
He could splinter the fencing light,
With three blows
Of his porcelain hoofs in flight-
If he chose.
He could shatter his prison wall,
Could escape them all-
If he rose,
If he chose.
Here sits the Unicorn;
The wounds in his side
Still bleed
From the huntsmen’s spears,
Yet he takes no heed
Of the blood-red tears
On his milk-white hide,
That spring unsealed,
Like flowers that rise
From the velvet field
In which he lies.
Dream wounds, dream ties
Do not bind him there
In a kingdom where
He is unaware
Of his wounds, of his snare.
Here sits the Unicorn;
Head in a collar cased,
Like a girdle laced
Round a maiden’s waist,
Broidered and buckled wide,
Carelessly tied.
He could slip his head
From the jewelled noose
So lightly tied –
If he tried,
As a maid could loose
The belt from her side;
He could slip the bond
So lightly tied –
If he tried.

Here sits the Unicorn;
Leashed by a chain of gold
To the pomengranate tree.
So light a chain to hold
So fierce a beast;
Delicate as a cross at rest
On a maiden’s breast.
He could snap the golden chain
With one toss of his mane,
If he chose to move,
If he chose to prove
His liberty.
But he does not choose
What choice would lose.
He stays, the Unicorn,
In captivity.
In captivity,
Flank, hoofs, and mane –
Yet look again –
His horn is free,
Rising above Chain, fence, and tree,
Free hymn of love; His horn
Bursts from his tranquil brow
Like a comet born;
Cleaves like a galley’s prow
Into seas untorn;
Springs like a lily, white
From the Earth below;
Spirals, a bird in flight
To a longed-for height;
Or a fountain bright,
Spurting to light
Of early morn –
O luminous horn!
Here sits the Unicorn –
In captivity?
In repose.
Forgotten now the blows
When the huntsmen rose
With their spears; dread sounds
Of the baying hounds,
With their cry for blood;
And the answering flood
In his veins for strife,
Of his rage for life,
In hoofs that plunged,
In horn that lunged.
Forgotten the strife;
Now the need to kill
Has died like fire,
And the need to love
Has replaced desire;
Forgotten now the pain
Of the wounds, tthe fence, the chain –
Where he sits so still,
Where he waits Thy will.
Quiet, the Unicorn,
In contemplation stilled,
With acceptance filled;
Quiet, save for his horn;
Alive in his horn;
Horizontally,
In captivity;
Perpendicularly,
Free.
As prisoners might,
Looking on high at night,
From day-close discipline
Of walls and bars,
To night-free infinity
Of sky and stars,
Find here felicity:
So is he free –
The Unicorn.
What is liberty?
Here lives the Unicorn,
In captivity,
Free.
Haiga by Salil Chaturvedi
Posted in Images, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged Chrysanthemum, haiga, Salil Chaturvedi on August 22, 2020| Leave a Comment »
“The Afterlife” by Billy Collins
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged Billy Collins, Poetry Magazine, The Afterlife on July 2, 2020| Leave a Comment »
“the hands of all my mistakes” by Martha Silano
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged "the hands of all my mistakes", Martha Silano on July 2, 2020| Leave a Comment »
four lines from e.e. cummings
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged e.e. cummings, may my heart always be open, poem 53 on March 23, 2020| 1 Comment »
“Desiderata” by Max Ehrmann
Posted in A Poet's Education, The Daily Poems, tagged Desiderata, Max Ehrmann on December 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann
“Bereft” by Robert Frost
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, The Daily Poems, tagged Bereft, Robert Frost on April 12, 2019| Leave a Comment »

Three Poems by Phoebe Hasketh
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals on January 12, 2019| Leave a Comment »
From the Asahi Haikuist (Fall 2018)
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, Poetry Lessons, The Daily Poems, tagged Asahi Haikuist on January 6, 2019| Leave a Comment »
~ Gabriel Zech (Sollars Elementary)
~ Pat Davis (Pembroke, NH)
~ Lee Nash (France)
~ Ana Drubot (Bucharest)
Haiku by Peggy Willis Lyles
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, Poetry Lessons, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged haiku, Peggy Willis Lyles on December 15, 2018| 1 Comment »
winter solstice
our son reads a fairy tale
to his unborn child
I dreamed your garden lights
were fireflies
the pull
of an old scar
for her mother
bluets
roots and all
hazy moon
the nun begins her journey
with a backward glance
an open window
somewhere
a woman’s wordless song
sweet peas
tremble on the trellis
the bride’s “I will”
a woman embroiders
a unicorn

on the dark rose
our reflections
a girl plays hopscotch
by herself
on the harp strings
Christmas Eve

he patiently untangles
her antique silver chain
cardinals in the birdbath
scatter drops of light
fingers splayed
above a starfish
through open windows
he lifts the veil
a young man fast asleep
beside his cello
the story of her life
day lilies close
at the graveside…
blue glass shines

Haiku and the Brain
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, Observations, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged haiku and the brain research, Haiku Foundation on October 29, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Jeannine Hall Gailey, “Rescuing Seiryu, the Blue Dragon”
Posted in A Poet's Education, Rants, The Daily Poems, tagged Aimee, blue dragon, haibun, jeannine hall gailey, Nezhukumatathil, rescuing seiryu on October 22, 2018| Leave a Comment »
4. a “turn,” or a sudden change of heart, if you will, found in the third line of the prose sections. Jeannine Hall Gailey goes from introducing a seemingly easy-going, cheerful visitor to a terrifying, blood-soaked seer in her haibun “Rescuing Seiryu, the Blue Dragon”:
You met the dragon in the garden. Sometimes he flies in circles outside your window. This morning he appeared as a young boy. / He shows you a vision of your parents, lying in a barn. With his face so close you smell hay. / He bleeds from the wounds of paper birds, from a swallowed curse. Can your healing rice cake keep him from death?
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/more-birds-bees-and-trees-closer-look-writing-haibun
Alfred Lord Tennyson, “The Lady of Shallott” with Paintings by John William Waterhouse
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, The Daily Poems, tagged Alfred Lord Tennyson, Lady of Shallott on October 18, 2018| Leave a Comment »



Tennyson’s “Morte d’Arthur”
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, The Daily Poems, tagged Alfred Lord Tennyson, illuminated, Morte d'Arthur on October 18, 2018| Leave a Comment »
From Linda Jeannette’s “Portraiture”
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged a frayed red thread, Linda Jeannette Ward, portraiture, tanka on October 6, 2018| Leave a Comment »
If I added
one narrow brushstroke
to this hazy moon
in my childhood portrait
would it change who I’ve become
Psalm 107 “O give yee thanks”
Posted in A Poet's Education, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged Bay Psalm Book, John Eliot, Psalm 107:1 on March 29, 2018| Leave a Comment »
“Life is but a Weaving” (The Tapestry Poem) by Corrie ten Boom
Posted in Images, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged Corrie ten Boom, The Lady and the Unicorn, The Tapestry Poem on February 21, 2018| 8 Comments »
My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.
Corrie ten Boom
Three Poems by Gerard Manly Hopkins
Posted in A Poet's Education, Images, Poetry Lessons, The Daily Poems, The Reading Journals, tagged Gerard Manly Hopkins, God's Grandeur, Pied Beauty, sketches, The Windover on November 8, 2017| Leave a Comment »
PIED BEAUTY
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!
No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs–
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
“Floating Island” by Dorothy Wordsworth
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged Dorothy Wordsworth, Floating Island on September 2, 2017| Leave a Comment »
“The Reverie of Poor Susan” by William Wordsworth
Posted in The Daily Poems, tagged 1798, Lyrical Ballads, Reverie of Poor Susan, william wordsworth on September 1, 2017| Leave a Comment »