Poets United Midweek Motif ~ The World Is A Beautiful Place

 “The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”— Milton“Mathematics has beauty and romance. It’s not a boring place to be, the mathematical world. It’s an extraordinary place; it’s worth spending time there.”— Marcus du Sautoy Midweek Motif ~ The World Is A Beautiful Place The world is a beautiful place is the title and the first line of one of the poems of Lawrence Ferlinghetti.   Whether the world is truly beautiful or not so depends on an individual’s perspectives of the world. It’s an open ended line. Either support or invalidate it. Be sarcastic if you please J The world might refer to the planet of ours. It might be our own home or a place we love. A person might become our world or books. When everything is going right anything has the chance of becoming our world. What if when it’s not so? Our Motif for today is: The World Is A Beautiful Place: The World Is A Beautiful Place by Lawrence Ferlinghetti The world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don’t mind happiness not always being so very much fun if […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 32 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ City

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ City

“But a city is more than a place in space, it is a drama in time.”— Patrick Geddes “The fact that over 50 percent of the residents of Toronto are not from Canada, that is always a good thing, creatively, and for food specially. That is easily a city’s biggest strength, and it is Toronto’s unique strength.” — Anthony Bourdain Midweek Motif ~ City In the eyes of a poet what would a busy city look like? A dream or a nightmare? Is it easier to integrate and interact with others or is it a place for the aliens? Will the poet ignore the bodily glamour and glitter and all those lucrative amenities and rather strike up a conversation with the soul of the city? Or will not? Or what is your kind of city? Have a city air in your poems today: City Trees by Edna St. Vincent Millay The trees along this city street, Save for the traffic and the trains, Would make a sound as thin and sweet As trees in country lanes. And people standing in their shade Out of a shower, undoubtedly Would hear such music as is made Upon a country tree. Oh, little […]

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Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Wilderness

     “Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.”— Edward Abbey “To plunder, to slaughter, to steal, these things they misname empire; and where they make a wilderness, they call it peace.”— Tacitus Midweek Motif ~ Wilderness This week we are away from our frenzied, civilized lives into the wilderness, places untrammeled by man: in reality or in imagination (like hikes with friends or solitary day trips).   You might also discover a bit of wilderness, traces of the wild in the cities / in people too. Is wilderness a place? Is it an instinct? Is it an idea? How does wilderness make you feel? Share some wilderness moments in your poems today: A Voice In The Wilderness by Audrey Hepburn I roamed the streets of Rome, It felt like home, People told me to stay, But I said no ‘This is my Roman Holiday’,I was a flower seller, poor and dirty, but sang like a canary, Henry Higgins said maybe, And called me his Fair Lady.I was being chased, Life was a maze, Four men made it a craze, It was more like a game of charades.  Wilderness by Carl Sandburg There is a […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 289 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Of Poems

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Of Poems

Introduction To Poetry by Billy Collins I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide or press an ear against its hive. I say drop a mouse into a poem and watch him probe his way out, or walk inside the poem’s room and feel the walls for a light switch. I want them to waterski across the surface of a poem waving at the author’s name on the shore. But all they want to do is tie the poem to a chair with rope and torture a confession out of it. They begin beating it with a hose to find out what it really means. Poetry by Pablo Neruda And it was at that age … Poetry arrived in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no they were not voices, they were not words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night, abruptly from the others, among violent fires or returning alone, there I was without a face and it touched me. I did not know […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 220 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ "a bundle of contradictions" (from Anne Frank's last letter)

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ “a bundle of contradictions” (from Anne Frank’s last letter)

Anne Frank Huis By Andrew Motion Even now, after twice her lifetime of grief and anger in the very place, whoever comes to climb these narrow stairs, discovers how the bookcase slides aside, then walks through shadow into sunlit room, can never help but break her secrecy again. Just listening is a kind of guilt: the Westerkirk repeats itself outside, as if all time worked round towards her fear, and made each stroke die down on guarded streets. Imagine it— four years of whispering, and loneliness, and plotting, day by day, the Allied line in Europe with a yellow chalk. What hope she had for ordinary love and interest survives her here, displayed above the bed as pictures of her family; some actors; fashions chosen by Princess Elizabeth. And those who stoop to see them find not only patience missing its reward, but one enduring wish for chances like my own: to leave as simply as I do, and walk at ease up dusty tree-lined avenues, or watch a silent barge come clear of bridges settling their reflections in the blue canal.    

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shayarisms4lovers June18 276 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ When I Think About Myself

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ When I Think About Myself

“This above all; to thine own self be true.”— Shakespeare “I am very much aware of my own double self. The well-known one is very under control; everything is planned and very secure. The unknown one can be very unpleasant. I think this side is responsible for all the creative work — he is in touch with the child. He is not rational; he is impulsive and extremely emotional.”—Ingmar Bergman Midweek Motif ~ When I think About Myself Let’s begin today with Maya Angelou’s poem When I Think About Myself: When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big joke, A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke, I laugh so hard I almost choke When I think about myself. Sixty years in these folks’ world The child I works for calls me girl I say ‘Yes ma’am’ for working’s sake. Too proud to bend Too poor to break, I laugh until my stomach ache, When I think about myself. My folks can make me split my side, I laughed so hard I nearly died, The tales they tell, sound just like lying, They grow the fruit, But eat the rind, […]

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shayarisms4lovers mar18 115 - Poets United Midweek Motif

Poets United Midweek Motif

Anne Frank Huis By Andrew Motion Even now, after twice her lifetime of grief and anger in the very place, whoever comes to climb these narrow stairs, discovers how the bookcase slides aside, then walks through shadow into sunlit room, can never help but break her secrecy again. Just listening is a kind of guilt: the Westerkirk repeats itself outside, as if all time worked round towards her fear, and made each stroke die down on guarded streets. Imagine it— four years of whispering, and loneliness, and plotting, day by day, the Allied line in Europe with a yellow chalk. What hope she had for ordinary love and interest survives her here, displayed above the bed as pictures of her family; some actors; fashions chosen by Princess Elizabeth. And those who stoop to see them find not only patience missing its reward, but one enduring wish for chances like my own: to leave as simply as I do, and walk at ease up dusty tree-lined avenues, or watch a silent barge come clear of bridges settling their reflections in the blue canal.

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shayarisms4lovers June18 272 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Lady Liberty

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Lady Liberty

Midweek Motif ~ Lady Liberty Riches I hold in light esteem, And Love I laugh to scorn; And lust of fame was but a dream, That vanished with the morn: And if I pray, the only prayer That moves my lips for me Is, “Leave the heart that now I bear, And give me liberty!” Yes, as my swift days near their goal: ’Tis all that I implore; In life and death a chainless soul, With courage to endure. The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” lady liberty By Tato Laviera for liberty, your day filled […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 283 - Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Human

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Human

“Listen and tell, thrums the grave heart of humans. Listen well love, for it’s pitch dark down here.” ― Hailey Leithauser (See full poem below) Midweek Motif ~ Human I am human. I am only human. I am sadly human. Happily, I am human. Hmm. When you describe something as “human,” what do you mean? BY WILLIAM BLAKE Cruelty has a Human Heart And Jealousy a Human Face Terror the Human Form Divine And Secrecy, the Human Dress The Human Dress, is forged Iron The Human Form, a fiery Forge. The Human Face, a Furnace seal’d The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge. 👫 The Guest House by Rumi This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes As an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide […]

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