home
That does
not keep me from having a terrible need of -- shall I say the word -- religion.
Then I
go out at night to paint the stars.
Vincent van gogh in a letter to his brother
The Starry Night
The town does
not exist
except where
one black-haired tree slips
up like a
drowned woman into the hot sky.
The toen
is silent. The night boils with eleven stars
Oh starry
starry night ! This is how
I want to
die.
It oves.
They are all alive.
Even the
moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children,
like a god, from its eye.
The old ynseen
serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry
starry night ! This is how
I want to
die:
into that
rushing beast of the night,
sucked up
by that great dragon, to split
from my life
with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.
by Anne Sexton ( 1928-1975 )
IF you hear
that a thousand people love you
remember
... saavedra is among them.
IF you hear
that a hundred people love you
remember
... saavedra is either in the first
or very last
row.
IF you hear
that seven people love you
remember
... saavedra is among them ,
like a wednesday
in the middle of the week.
IF you hear
that two people love you
remember
... one of them is saavedra.
IF you hear
that only one person loves you
remember
... he is saavedra.
And when you
see no one else around you ,
and you find
that no one
loves you anymore ,
then you
will know for certain
that ...
saavedra is dead.
by Guadalupe de Saavedra
To often we
don't realize
What we have
until it's gone;
Too often
we wait too late to say
"I'm sorry....I
was wrong."
Sometimes
it seems we hurt the ones
We hold dearest
to our hearts;
And we allow
foolish things to tear our lives apart.
Far too many
times we let
Unimportant
things into our minds;
And then
it's usually too late
To see what's
made us blind.
So be sure
that you let people know
How much
they mean to you;
Take the
time to say the words
Before your
time is through.
Be sure to
appreciate
Everything
you've got;
And be thankful
for the little things in life,
That truly
mean a lot.
by Christina Ramirez
Dear Enedelia...
One treasure
was lost
One heart
stopped beating
One soul
was chosen
But so many
mourning.
Why so many
tears over one single soul?
Why so many
sad and so many to console?
Dear sweet
Enedelia...
Why can't
they understand?
This is just
all a part of God's little plan.
Dear sweet
Enedelia...
In thy serene
rest
God broke
our hearts to prove to us
He only takes
the best.
by Christina Ramirez
The face of
an angel is all that is here,
One beautiful
freckle equals one terrified tear.
Not ready
to leave but has to go,
Wants to
go back but God says "No."
Leaving your
life is a scary thought,
A mother,
a father, a sister, friends,
A meaningful
life that suddenly ends.
An angel
is what she was meant to be,
Now just
think of all she can see.
Looking over
her family night and day,
Saying "I
Love You" in her own special way.
In the night
we sleep, in the day we cry.
She watches
us all from her star in the sky.
by Christina Ramirez
There are
no words that can tell how I feel
What you
mean to me must be a sin.
To feel this
way so full of disgust,
I know in
my heart it must be more worse than lust.
I despise
you in every way
And I want
to hurt you everyday.
I know that
this feeling is truely wrong,
I want to
die when I hear "our song."
Why didn't
you just treat me right?
Why did everyday
we have to fight?
How could
you play me for a fool?
The memories
of you remain weary and dull.
You make me
sick,
You make
me cry,
You made
me suffer,
But one question.....why?
Maybe I don't
hate you
But I know
I can't stand you.
You will
always remember that time you hurt me
And how you
lost everything forever.
You are dirty,
You are scum,
Can't you
see....
This is what
you mean to me.
by Christina Ramirez
When , in
disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes
I all alone
beweep my outcast state ,
And trouble
deaf heaven with my bootless cries ,
And look
upon myself and curse my fate ,
Wishing me
like to one more rich in hope ,
Featur'd
like him , like him with friends possess'd ,
Desiring
this man's art and that man's scope ,
With what
I most enjoy contented least ;
Yet in these
thoughts myself almost despising ,
Haply I think
on thee ; and then my state ,
Like to lark
at break of day arising
From sullen
earth , sings hymns at heaven's gate ,
For thy sweet
love rememb'red such wealth brings
That then
I scorn to change my state with kings.
by William Shakespeare
While I slept
, while I slept and the right grew colder
She would
come to my bedroom stepping softly
And draw
a blanket about my shoulder
While I slept.
While I slept
, while I slept in the dark still heat
She would
come to my bedside stepping coolly
And smooth
the twisted troubled sheet
While I slept.
Now she sleeps
, sleeps under quiet rain
While nights
grow warm or nights grow colder
And I wake
and sleep and wake again
While she
sleeps.
by Roberts Francis
Dove sta amore
Where lies
love
Dove sta
amore
Here lies
love
the ring
dove love
In lyrical
delight
Hear love's
hillsong
Love's true
will song
Love's low
plainsong
Too sweet
painsong
In passages
of night
Dove sta
amore
Here lies
love
The ring
dove love
Dove sta
amore
Here lies
love.
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Gather the
stars if you wish it so.
Gather the
songs and keep them.
Gather the
faces of women.
Gather for
keeping years and years.
And then
...
Loosen your
hands , let go and say good-bye.
Let the stars
and songs go.
Let the faces
and years go.
Lossen your
hands and say good-bye.
by Carl Sandburg
I looked in
the mirror.
Handsome
is as handsome does , I thought.
So I decided
to do something handsome
Because actions
speak louder than words.
After acting
handsome ,
I looked
in the mirror again.
Beauty is
only skin deep. I thought ,
I must have
thick skin.
by Elizabeth Ruiz
With crayons
and pieces of paper , I entered
the empty
room.
I sat on
the floor and drew pictures all day.
One day I
held a picture against the bare wall :
It was a
window. Climbing through ,
I stood in
a sloping field
at dusk.
As I began walking , night settled.
Far ahead
in the valley , I saw the lights
of a village
, and always at my back I felt
the white
room swallowing what was passed.
by Gregory Orr
Light keeps
on breaking.
I keep knowing
the language
of other nations.
I keep hearing
tree talk
water words
and I keep
knowing what they mean.
and light
just keeps on breaking.
Last light
the fears
of my mother came
knocking
and when I
opened the
door
they tried
to explain themselves
and I understood
everthing
they said.
by Lucille Clifton
Truly , my
Satan , thou art but a dunce
And dost
not know the garment from the man :
Every harlot
was a virgin once ,
nor canst
thou ever change Kate into Nan.
Though thou
art worshipped by the names divine
Of Jesus
and Jehovah , thou art still
The Son of
Morn in weary night's decline ,
The lost
traveller's dream under the hill.
by William Blake
Little Fly
Thy summers play
,
My thoughtless
hand
Has brush'd away.
Am not I
A fly like thee
?
Or art not thou
A man like me ?
For I dance
And drink &
sing ;
Till some blind
hand
Shall brush my
wing.
If thought is life
And strength &
breath ;
And the want
Of thought is death
;
Then am I
A happy fly ,
If I live ,
Or if I die.
by William Blake
ever been
kidnapped
by a poet
if i were
a poet
i'd kidnap
you
put you in
my pharses and meter
you to jones
beach
or maybe
coney island
or maybe
just to my house
lyric you
in lilacs
dash you
in the rain
blend into
the beach
to complement
my see
paly the
lyre for you
ode you with
my love song
anything
to win you
wrap you
in the red Black green
show you
off to mama
yeah if i
were a poet i'd kid
nap you
by Nikki Giovanni
Rain has drops
Sun has shine
Moon has
beams That make you mine
Rivers have
banks Sands for shores
Hearts have
heartbeats That make me yours
Needles gave
eyes Though pins may prick
Elmer has
glue To make things stick
Winter has
Spring Stockings feet
Pepper has
mint To make it sweet
Teachers have
lessons Soup du jour
Lawyers sue
bad folks Doctors cure
All and all
this much is true
You have
me And I have you
by Nikki Giovanni
how do you
write a poem
about someone
so close
to you that
when you say ahhhhh
they say
chuuuu
what can
they ask you to put
on paper
that isn't already written
on your face
and does
the paper make it
any more
real
that without
them
life would
be not
impossible
but certainly
more difficult
and why would
someone need
a poem to
say when i come
home if you're
not there
i search
the air
for your
scent
would i search
the air
for your
scent
would i search
any less
if i told
the world
i don't care
at all
and love
is so complete
that touch
or not we blend
to each other
the things
that matter
aren't all about
baaaanging
( i can be baaaanged all
day long)
but finding a spot
where i can
be free
of all the
physical
and emotional
bullshit
and simply
sit with a cup
of coffee
and say to you
"i'm tired"
don't you know
those are
my love words
and say to
you " how was your day" doesn't that show
i care or
say to you " we lost
a friend"
and not want to share
that loss
with strangers
don't you
already know
what i feel
and if
you don't
maybe
i should
check my feelings.
by Nikki Giovanni