  Poetry
This week: Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
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I would like to share some poetry written by female poets, both contemporary poets and poets from long ago. I hope you enjoy them all as much as I have.
Deaths of Flowers
by Edith Joy Scovell
I would if I could choose
Age and die outwards as a tulip does;
Not as this iris drawing in, in-coiling
Its complex strange taut inflorescence, willing
Itself a bud again - though all achieved is
No more than a clenched sadness,
The tears of gum not flowing.
I would choose the tulips reckless way of going;
Whose petals answer light, altering by fractions
From closed to wide, from one through many perfections,
Til wretched, flamboyant, strayed beyond recall,
Like flakes of fire they piecemeal fall.
The Crystal Gazer
by Sarah Teasdale
I shall gather myself into my self again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
I Shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent.
Watching the future come and the present go -
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
In tiny self-importance to and fro.
ROSES
by George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans)
You love the roses - so do I. I wish
They sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!
Expect Nothing
Alice Walker
Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human midget
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
I Am
By Voltaraine De Cleyre
I am! The ages on the ages roll:
And what I am, I was, and I shall be:
by slow growth filling higher Destiny,
And Widening, ever, to the widening Goal.
I am the Stone that slept; down deep in me
That old, old sleep has left its centurine trace;
I am the plant that dreamed; and lo! still see
That dream-life dwelling on the Human Face.
I slept, I dreamed, I wakened: I am Man!
The hut grows Palaces; the depths breed light;
Still on! Forms pass; but Form yields kinglier
Might!
The singer, dying where his song began,
In Me yet lives; and yet again shall he
Unseal the lips of greater songs To Be;
For mine the thousand tongues of Immortality.
I am always searching for more poems and poets to feature in this section of my newsletter. If you have someone you would like me to read about please let me know.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
| |  | Invalid Item
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#1091860 by Not Available. |
The vintage vessel, initially full of violets
Hastily arranged, falling in a variety of directions
Effortless velocity of their perfume floating everywhere
Verdant vines scaling the house's vast facade
Are overflowing with Valentine roses of every hue
Simple to add one of each, embellishing the view
Exuberant verve of springtime colors
Opulent crystal, vestige of another time
Forming vibrant diamond reflections in the sun
Spring cannot vanish thus captured inside
Perfect fresh flowers of various shapes and shades
Rising high from the pedestal, where the vase thrones
Inspiring admiration for the victory of ikebana skill
Negligent arrangement, a vignette of formal forms
Gracious vegetation, decorative virtuosity
Forget-me-nots arrive in this floral vicinity
Lovely visions of such versatile floral shapes
Orchids from Venice, on the verge of extinction
Waiting for nighttime blossom, the vanilla from Versailles
Entranced by the song of a vagrant nightingale
Restfully trilling his vocal reverence
Season's prayer in varnished colors and vibrato sound
the vase of spring flowers
8 april, 2006
(acrostic form)
Postcards from Venus
Because I am left-handed,
right-brained, near-sighted,
I read "O" magazine back to front,
stir my sauces widdershins,
Can't parallel park.
Venus is my planet,
Earth's counterintuitive sister.
Now morning star, now evening,
then vanishing from view.
Her vast volcanic plains,
ultra-violet gases,
vagrant sun moving west to east
are my natural home.
I yearn for her diurnal turnings,
days longer than a year,
her peculiar orbit,
vining through space,
tracing a perfect pentagram.
Because I am left-handed,
high-minded, fuzzy-headed,
I hold visions of worlds without wars,
arrange my daisies in T'ang dynasty vases ,
pen postcards from Venus.
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These are the rules:
1)You must use the words I give in a poem.
2)They can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem.
3)All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] by May 26, 2006.
4)The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post. (May 31, 2006)
The words are:
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Poetry: May 03, 2006 Issue [#1017]
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