24 Nov: "Thanksgiving Magic" by Rowena Bastin Bennett

Thanksgiving Magic

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BY ROWENA BASTIN BENNETT

Thanksgiving Day I like to see 

Our cook perform her witchery. 

She turns a pumpkin into pie 

As easily as you or I 

Can wave a hand or wink an eye. 

She takes leftover bread and muffin 

And changes them to turkey stuffin’. 

She changes cranberries to sauce 

And meats to stews and stews to broths; 

And when she mixes gingerbread 

It turns into a man instead 

With frosting collar ’round his throat 

And raisin buttons down his coat. 

Oh, some like magic made by wands, 

   And some read magic out of books, 

And some like fairy spells and charms 

   But I like magic made by cooks!

23 Nov: "I Had No Time to Hate" by Emily Dickinson

I Had no time to hate 

XXII.

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.

- Emily Dickinson

22 Nov: "Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven" from John Milton's Paradise Lost

Farewell happy fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang’d by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it
Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less then he
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th’ Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell 
Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.

21 Nov: "Nature is What You Don't See" by John Tiong Chunghoo

Nature Is What You Dont See

nature is what we dont see
for instance the essence that pushes words out
for this poem fated for posterity
the birds that without fail
chirp at first light, morn breeze
the unseen clock working at the dot
nature is what we dont see
the nocturnal bloom, that folds itself
in the day, throws its fragrance
in the dead of night as lovers
hide in each others' bossoms
below the soft glare of the moon
centimetre by centimetre
it has inched forward to exhibit its 
full blown majestry to the world
Nature is what we dont see
the shadow play master tilting the earth
the petals for its bloom dance
the successive cells here there
guided towards optimal functions
and that ogiasmic tremour
that shuttles the world round and round
nature is what you should not see
the formulas, secrets kept behind everything
that could get even einstein mad
in unveiling, explaining them
nature is what we all should not see
nor equipped to see
though it rambles through our every cell
like the worst of storm 

20 Nov: "A Few Rules for Beginners" by Katherine Mansfield

A Few Rules for Beginners

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BY KATHERINE MANSFIELD

Babies must not eat the coal 

And they must not make grimaces, 

Nor in party dresses roll 

And must never black their faces. 

They must learn that pointing’s rude, 

They must sit quite still at table, 

And must always eat the food 

Put before them—if they’re able. 

If they fall, they must not cry, 

Though it’s known how painful this is; 

No—there’s always Mother by 

Who will comfort them with kisses.

19 Nov: "The Second Trying" by Dahlia Ravikovitch

The Second Trying

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BY DAHLIA RAVIKOVITCH

TRANSLATED BY CHANA BLOCHRead the translator's notes

If I could only get hold of the whole of you,   

How could I ever get hold of the whole of you,   

Even more than the most beloved idols,   

More than mountains quarried whole,   

          More than mines   

          Of burning coal,   

Let’s say mines of extinguished coal   

And the breath of day like a fiery furnace.   

If one could get hold of you for all the years,   

How could one get hold of you from all the years,   

How could one lengthen a single arm,   

Like a single branch of an African river,   

As one sees in a dream the Bay of Storms,   

As one sees in a dream a ship that went down,   

The way one imagines a cushion of clouds,   

Lily-clouds as the body’s cushion,   

But though you will it, they will not convey you,   

Do not believe that they will convey you.   

If one could get hold of all-of-the-whole-of-you,   

If one could get hold of you like metal,   

Say like pillars of copper,   

Say like a pillar of purple copper   

(That pillar I remembered last summer)— 

And the bottom of the ocean I have never seen,   

And the bottom of the ocean that I can see   

With its thousand heavy thickets of air,   

A thousand and one laden breaths.   

If one could only get hold of the-whole-of-you-now,   

How could you ever be for me what I myself am?   

18 Nov: "undressing..." by Ariel Lambert

undressing
the mannequin 
i envy its curves

Ariel Lambert

p.s. Senryu is a short poetic form which focuses on people: men, women, husbands, wives, children, relatives and other relations. It portrays the characteristics of human beings and psychology of the human mind.

17 Nov: "Forget memory..." by Haiku Frank

Forget memory
And condemn nostalgia
Life lies in living..

-Haiku Frank
http://www.haikufrank.co.uk/haiku_poems_philosophical.html

16 Nov: "Fever 103" by Sylvia Plath

Fever 103

Pure? What does it mean?

The tongues of hell

Are dull, dull as the triple

Tongues of dull, fat Cerberus

Who wheezes at the gate. Incapable

Of licking clean

The aguey tendon, the sin, the sin.

The tinder cries.

The indelible smell

Of a snuffed candle!

Love, love, the low smokes roll

From me like Isadora’s scarves, I’m in a fright

One scarf will catch and anchor in the wheel,

Such yellow sullen smokes

Make their own element. They will not rise,

But trundle round the globe

Choking the aged and the meek,

The weak

Hothouse baby in its crib,

The ghastly orchid

Hanging its hanging garden in the air,

Devilish leopard!

Radiation turned it white

And killed it in an hour.

Greasing the bodies of adulterers

Like Hiroshima ash and eating in.

The sin. The sin.

Darling, all night

I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.

The sheets grow heavy as a lecher’s kiss.

Three days. Three nights.

Lemon water, chicken

Water, water make me retch.

I am too pure for you or anyone.

Your body

Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern——

My head a moon

Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin

Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive.

Does not my heat astound you! And my light!

All by myself I am a huge camellia

Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.

I think I am going up,

I think I may rise——

The beads of hot metal fly, and I love, I

Am a pure acetylene

Virgin

Attended by roses,

By kisses, by cherubim,

By whatever these pink things mean!

Not you, nor him

Nor him, nor him

(My selves dissolving, old whore petticoats)——

To Paradise.

Sylvia Plath, “Fever 103°” from The Collected Poems of Sylvia Plath, edited by Ted Hughes. Copyright © 1966 and renewed 1994 by Ted Hughes. Reprinted with the permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Source: Collected Poems (HarperCollins Publishers Inc, 1992)

15 Nov: "Summum Bonum" by Robert Browning

Summum Bonum

All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee:
All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem:
In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea:
Breath and bloom, shade and shine, wonder, wealth, and--how far above them--
Truth, that's brighter than gem,
Trust, that's purer than pearl,--
Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe--all were for me
In the kiss of one girl 

Robert Browning

14 Nov: "The World is Too Much With Us" by William Wordsworth

The World Is Too Much With Us

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BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

The world is too much with us; late and soon, 

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;— 

Little we see in Nature that is ours; 

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! 

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; 

The winds that will be howling at all hours, 

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; 

For this, for everything, we are out of tune; 

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be 

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

13 Nov: "You Are Me" by Thich Naht Hahn

You Are Me 

You are me and I am you.
It is obvious that we are inter-are.
You cultivate the flower in
yourself so that I will be beautiful.
I transform the garbage in myself so
that you do not have to suffer.
I support you you support me.
I am here to bring you peace
you are here to bring me joy.

- Thich Naht Hahn

12 Nov: "To Meditate" by Thich Nhat Hahn

To Meditate 

To meditate does not mean to fight with a problem.
To meditate means to observe.
Your smile proves it.
It proves that you are being gentle with yourself,
that the sun of awareness is shining in you,
that you have control of your situation.
You are yourself,
and you have acquired some peace.

- Thich Nhat Hahn

11 Nov: "Answer to a Child's Question" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Answer to a Child's Question
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linner and thrush say, "I love and I love!"
In the winter they're silent - the wind is so strong;
What is says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving - all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he-
"I love my Love, and my Love loves me!"

10 Nov: "Every Time I Climb a Tree" by David McCord

Every time I climb a tree
Every time I climb a tree
Every time I climb a tree
I scrape a leg
Or skin a knee
And every time I climb a tree
I find some ants
Or dodge a bee
And get the ants
All over me.

And every time I climb a tree
Where have you been?
They say to me
But don’t they know that I am free
Every time I climb a tree?

I like it best
To spot a nest
That has an egg
Or maybe three.

And then I skin
The other leg
But every time I climb a tree
I see a lot of things to see
Swallows rooftops and TV
And all the fields and farms there be
Every time I climb a tree
Though climbing may be good for ants
It isn’t awfully good for pants
But still it’s pretty good for me
Every time I climb a tree.

9 Nov: "The Road Goes Ever On" by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Road Goes Ever On

by J. R. R. Tolkien

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The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

8 Nov: "Allie" by Robert Graves

Allie

by Robert Graves

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Allie, call the birds in,
The birds from the sky.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Down they all fly.
First there came
Two white doves
Then a sparrow from his nest,
Then a clucking bantam hen,
Then a robin red-breast.

Allie, call the beasts in,
The beasts, every one.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
In they all run.
First there came
Two black lambs,
Then a grunting Berkshire sow,
Then a dog without a tail,
Then a red and white cow.

Allie, call the fish up,
The fish from the stream.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Up they all swim.
First there came
Two gold fish,
A minnow and a miller's thumb,
Then a pair of loving trout,
Then the twisted eels come.

Allie, call the children,
Children from the green.
Allie calls, Allie sings,
Soon they run in.
First there came
Tom and Madge,
Kate and I who'll not forget
How we played by the water's edge
Till the April sun set.

7 Nov: "Invitation" by Shel Silverstein

INVITATION (Where the Sidewalk Ends)

If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…
If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

-Shel Silverstein

6 Nov: "I am losing precious days" by John Muir

“I am losing precious days. I am degenerating into a machine for making money. I am learning nothing in this trivial world of men. I must break away and get out into the mountains to learn the news.”

-John Muir

5 Nov: "Transcendence" by Sharon Gannon

Transcendence

Transcendence is an apocalyptic event
It takes the past as it leaves the present
Change is always the same
If you care to look deeper into it
It is form passing into form
It is orgasmic
It is the expansion of truth and reality
Through the phases of duality
Like the moon it moves from necessity
Guaranteed full promised monthly
This is bold like love is bold
Naked revealed
It has no body and nobody can have it
Love that is… has no body
and no body has love
Love is the body
Blood, the intoxication the invitation
To this apocalypse
This standing naked
Psyche stripped is the flesh
The matter is the mind
Thought is form
Words come next

-written by Sharon GannonIn 1984 Sharon Gannon and David Life created the Jivamukti Yoga Method, which is a path to enlightenment through compassion for all beings. Yoga Journal has recognized Sharon Gannon and David Life as innovators in Yoga, and the NY Times says, “Without Jivamukti, yoga in the US would still be the obscure practice of a few devotees.”

4 Nov: "Because I could not stop for Death"

"Because I could not stop for Death" (479) By Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death – 

He kindly stopped for me – 

The Carriage held but just Ourselves – 

And Immortality. 

We slowly drove – He knew no haste 

And I had put away 

My labor and my leisure too, 

For His Civility – 

We passed the School, where Children strove 

At Recess – in the Ring – 

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – 

We passed the Setting Sun – 

Or rather – He passed Us – 

The Dews drew quivering and Chill – 

For only Gossamer, my Gown – 

My Tippet – only Tulle – 

We paused before a House that seemed 

A Swelling of the Ground – 

The Roof was scarcely visible – 

The Cornice – in the Ground – 

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet 

Feels shorter than the Day 

I first surmised the Horses' Heads 

Were toward Eternity –

3 Nov: "A long, long sleep..." by Emily Dickinson

A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By strech of limb or stir of lid, --
An independent one.

Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon? 

Emily Dickinson

2 Nov: "In your light..." by Rumi

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest
where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

-Rumi

1 Nov: "You've so distracted me..." by Rumi

You've so distracted me,
your absence fans my love.
Don't ask how.

Then you come near.
"Do not..." I say, and
"Do not...," you answer.

Don't ask why
this delights me.

-Rumi