Poems that I love

Patricia G. Horan Patricia G. Horan Patricia Horan is with Elizabeth Sabo .  ·  Dear friends of our beloved Patricia, After testing positive with COVID one week ago, Patricia has completed the great passage, clear-eyed and focused, strong and ready, in the embrace of the tremendous love we all shared with her. Brava, Patricia G. Horan, brava. Please enjoy her final poem, written with insistence and ferocity via text from her hospital bed just three days ago. 12-30-20, 6:45pm   - Elizabeth Sabo December 27, 2020 I swallow my pride and it tastes like honey and salt. The air has embraced my private body and has approved, and it quietly rejoices in its revelations and the liberation of its childlike spills and neediness. How I reach to love it suddenly, this stranger I’ve kept in a fifties New Jersey suitcase, only removing it for one afternoon on a nude fire island beach. Now it is truly liberated in a small windowless quarantine room in North Carolina. The machines behind me beep, shini

by Ravindranath Tagore The axe begged humbly, ‘O thou mighty oak, Lend me only a piece of thy branch— Just enough to fit me with a handle.’ The handle was ready, and there was no more wasting of time. The beggar at once commenced business—and hit hard at the root, And there was the end of the oak. The woodcutter’s axe begged for its handle from the tree. The tree gave it.

By Diane di Prima A pleasure. We talk of here & there gossip about the folks in San Francisco laugh a lot. I try to tell him (to tell someone) what my life is like: the hungry people, the trying   to sit zazen in motels; the need in America like a sponge   sucking up whatever prana & courage "Pray to the Bodhisattvas" sez Katagiri Roshi. I tell him that sometimes, traveling, I am too restless to sit still, wiggle &   itch. "Sit only ten minutes, five minutes at a time" he sez-first time it has occurred to me that this wd be OK. As I talk, it becomes OK there becomes some continuity in my life; I even understand (or remember) why I'm on the road. As we talk a continuity, a transfer of energy takes place. It is darshan, a blessing, transmission of some basic joy some way of seeing. LIKE A TANGIBLE GIFT IN THE HAND   In the heart. It stays with me.

by Billy Collins Much has been said about being in the present. It’s the place to be, according to the gurus, like the latest club on the downtown scene, but no one, it seems, is able to give you directions. It doesn’t seem desirable or even possible to wake up every morning and begin leaping from one second into the next until you fall exhausted back into bed. Plus, there’d be no past with so many scenes to savor and regret, and no future, the place you will die but not before flying around with a jet-pack. The trouble with the present is that it’s always in a state of vanishing. Take the second it takes to end this sentence with a period––already gone. What about the moment that exists between banging your thumb with a hammer and realizing you are in a whole lot of pain? What about the one that occurs after you hear the punch line but before you get the joke? Is that where the wise men want us to live in that intervening tick, the tiny slot that occurs after you have spent hours sear

Each woman is a beauty Why do we need Miss Universe? Each person is a treasure for his nation & the world Why do we need the National Living Treasure? Each mountain is wonderful Why do we need One Hundred Great Mountains? Everything on earth is the sun’s heritage Why do we need the World Natural Heritage Parks? The sun can live Ten Billion years. How long will Japan survive – Nobody knows. In the public construction enterprise Somebody makes big money & breaks down the earth Why do you call it public? Stone Age Japanese never knew Atomic Energy. Now nuclear power plants are Poisoning modern Japan to a slow death – Nanao Sakaki (November 20, 1999)

 

if you have time to chatter read books if you have time to read walk into mountain, desert and ocean if you have time to walk sing songs and dance if you have time to dance sit quietly, you happy lucky idiot   – Nanao Sakaki   APRIL 2, 2013 BY LIVE & LEARN Photo: Mme Scherzo