John Heaton (jheaton) wrote,
John Heaton
jheaton

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Poet's Corner: people's choice (part 1)

From time to time last year, when I was posting something every day, I would from time to time feel lazy or tired or rushed, and so would post a poem instead. This year, I don't plan to post every day, but that doesn't prevent me from feeling lazy or tired or rushed on the days I have decided to post something. Today it's the first with a little bit of the third, and to prove just how lazy I feel, I'm not even going to choose the poems myself. A few days ago, I spotted a new status game on dfwall02453's Facebook wall:

Let's fill Facebook with poetry. To anyone who "likes" this post, I will assign a poet. All you have to do is link or paste a poem from this poet and carry on from there.

I like poetry, so I liked the post and he assigned me Sappho. I found one of her poems that resonated with me and posted it and the text quoted above on my own Facebook wall. Seven of my Facebook friends liked the post, and so far six of them have completed their assignments. I'm not going to post all six right now -- I need to hold a few back for the next lazy/tired/busy day -- but here are the poems chosen by the first two people to respond.

Carrie

"There's never an end to dust
and dusting," my aunt would say
as her rag, like a thunderhead,
scudded across the yellow oak
of her little house. There she lived
seventy years with a ball
of compulsion closed in her fist,
and an elbow that creaked and popped
like a branch in a storm. Now dust
is her hands and dust her heart.
There's never an end to it.

     Ted Kooser (born 1939)
     Chosen by Lori P.

© Ted Kooser. From Sure Signs, University of Pittsburgh Press, 1980.

If Death Is Kind

Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.

We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.

     Sara Teasdale (1884–1933)
     Chosen by Grace E.

Public domain. From Flame and Shadow, Macmillan Company, 1920.
 
Tags: internet friends are real friends, memes, poet's corner, poetry, social media: facebook
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