Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 Written on the roof of a coach, on my way to France BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like […]
MoreIn last Sunday’s New York Times former science reporter John Schwartz wrote an op-ed piece about the eerie accuracy of novels in predicting the future. I can’t make any such claims for poetry–-not least because the scope of my poetry reading is so small and for all I know there exists a tradition of science […]
MoreAfter the Children Leave Home by Maria Mazziotti Gillan Slowly, we settle into the quiet house. We almost grow accustomed to the noise of absence, that terrible stillness that slides along carpeted surfaces. “The house is so quiet without them,” you say, your voice husky […]
MoreSelecting a Reader Ted Kooser First, I would have her be beautiful, and walking carefully up on my poetry at the loneliest moment of an afternoon, her hair still damp at the neck from washing it. She should be wearing a raincoat, an old one, dirty from not having money enough for the cleaners. She […]
More“Tomber amoureux. To fall in love. Does it occur suddenly or gradually? If gradually, when is the moment “already”? I would fall in love with a monkey made of rags. With a plywood squirrel. With a botanical atlas. With an oriole. With a ferret. With a marten in a picture. With the forest one sees […]
MoreI Sit and Look Out by Walt Whitman I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done; I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying, […]
MoreWorse than delivering a joke that falls flat is delivering a present that offends. Offensive presents induce not just embarrassment but guilt as well, a guilt that can flame up and redden cheeks even years after. Once I spearheaded a group gift of an adult tricycle for my mother, who was less ready to give […]
More(Poem #1437) My Father by Yehuda Amichai The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work. Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits out of his hat, he drew love from his small body, and the rivers of his hands overflowed […]
MoreThis Marriage – Ode 2667 by Rumi May these vows and this marriage be blessed. May it be sweet milk, this marriage, like wine and halvah. May this marriage offer fruit and shade like the date palm. May this marriage be full of laughter, our every day a day in paradise. May this marriage […]
MorePer my last post, the last few paragraphs, which you may have skipped: As the sole originator (and unfortunately the sole practitioner) of National It’s High Time to Buy a Book of Poetry Couple of Days (hereafter known as NIHTT—BABOP—COD), it’s my right to announce that the Couple of Days is not over yet; […]
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