Maya Angelou, 1928-2014

At the library, in April.

At the library: May 29, 2014.

Poetry in Motion: Twilight

Bus ride home in twilight.

To the Reader: Twilight

Chase Twichell

Whenever I look

out at the snowy

mountains at this hour

and speak directly

into the ear of the sky,

it’s you I’m thinking of.

You’re like the spirits

the children invent

to inhabit the stuffed horse

and the doll.

I don’t know who hears me.

I don’t know who speaks 

when the horse speaks.

Street Art: Poetry

Conjunction Junction, what's your function?

I found a piece of paper on the sidewalk, grammar lessons from a child's notebook, and I thought it formed a poetry of its' own. 
Everyday magic is all around you.  Stop for a second look.

Small Town America: Memorial Day

We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields. 

 

excerpt from We Shall Keep the Faith, Moina Michael, November 1918

Poetry in Motion: Grand Central

Grand Central turns 100 years old this year, and it looks better than ever. Nice job, New Yorkers!

http://www.grandcentralterminal.com/

O For a Heart....

 

....write thy new name upon my heart,

Thy new best name of love. Amen.

—Robert Edward Smith

http://www.robertedwardsmith.com/

Poetry in Motion: Mary Ruefler

 




















Voyager

I have become an orchid

washed in on the salt white beach.

Memory,

what can I make of it now

that might please you—

this life, already wasted

and still strewn with

miracles?

http://www.mta.info/mta/aft/poetry/poetry.html?year=2013&poem=5
http://www.maryruefle.com/ 

L O V E

Secret Admirer, Marie Doucette 2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling) 

                                                 i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

E. E. Cummings

 

A Shining Moment at Grand Central Station

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

—opening stanza from Keats' A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever