April is National Poetry Month!  This link’s 
full of resources to help you celebrate!


Why pause in the middle of your busy life to read poetry?

Because poetry can penetrate to the center of what truly matters.  What a subversive act, in a culture hell-bent on filling space with activity and silence with noise, to slow down and read a poem. Turning to poetry, as Adrienne Rich said, “…can break open locked chambers of possibility, restore numbed zones to feeling, recharge desire.”   Poetry has even saved lives.  It’s true.  Dang good reasons.  Nuff said.  Onward!

Image: Paul Cezanne, Still life, pitcher and fruit

April 2018 ~ School Prayer

This “child’s prayer,” an invocation for attentive presence,
is an invitation to bow and sow seeds of empathy and wonder,
whatever one’s age.

In the name of the daybreak
and the eyelids of morning
and the wayfaring moon
and the night when it departs,

I swear I will not dishonor
my soul with hatred,
but offer myself humbly
as a guardian of nature,
as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder,
as an architect of peace.

In the name of the sun and its mirrors
and the day that embraces it
and the cloud veils drawn over it
and the uttermost night
and the male and the female
and the plants bursting with seed
and the crowning seasons
of the firefly and the apple,

I will honor all life
—wherever and in whatever form
it may dwell—on Earth my home,
and in the mansions of the stars.

Diane Ackerman from I Praise My Destroyer
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

By |April 1st, 2018|Tags: , , |

March 2018 ~ A Laying on of Hands (excerpt)

I marvel over the transformation that unfolds in the space of this poem.
To fully appreciate the musicality of the poem, read it out loud.

i sat up one nite walkin a boardin house
screamin/cryin/the ghost of another woman
who waz missin what i waz missin
i wanted to jump up outta my bones
& be done wit myself
leave me alone
& go on in the wind
it waz too much
i fell into a numbness
til the only tree i cd see
took me up in her branches
held me in the breeze
made me dawn dew
that chill at daybreak
the sun wrapped me up swingin rose light everywhere
the sky laid over me like a million men
i waz cold/i waz burnin up/a child
& endlessly weavin garments for the moon
wit my tears
i found god in myself
& i loved her/i loved her fiercely

Ntozake Shange from “for colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf”
Originally a “choreopoem,” this theater piece was accompanied by movement and music.

Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

By |March 1st, 2018|Tags: , , |

February 2018 ~ Topography

Here you go: an erotic love poem that builds beautifully to the last line.
Kaboomi!  She nails it.  What a stellar ending!

After we flew across the country we
got in bed, laid our bodies
delicately together, like maps laid
face to face, East to West, my
San Francisco against your New York, your
Fire Island against my Sonoma, my
New Orleans deep in your Texas, your Idaho
bright on my Great Lakes, my Kansas
burning against your Kansas your Kansas
burning against my Kansas, your Eastern
Standard Time pressing into my
Pacific Time, my Mountain Time
beating against your Central Time, your
sun rising swiftly from the right my
sun rising swiftly from the left your
moon rising slowly from the left my
moon rising slowly from the right until
all four bodies of the sky
burn above us, sealing us together,
all our cities twin cities,
all our states united, one
nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Sharon Olds from The Gold Cell
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

* Try reading this aloud, and, having it read to you.  Such pleasure!

By |February 1st, 2018|Tags: , , , |

Lucky’s Corner


Here’s a tasty morsel of poetic medicine from Lucky.
Down the hatch!

“Attention without feeling
is only a report.”

Mary Oliver

Stay Connected for Monthly Inspiration!

* indicates required