to grace proceedings
with spontaneous life and hope
beyond the present forward reaching shadows
of our past deeds.
(poem by David Taylor, poetry student)
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Ibrahim
in that Persian land afarwhere wisest men practice craftsin side-alleys without nameand teach with storiesOne day, Ibrahim was overcomeby happiness beyond all beliefwhile the sun moved from there to hereHe told his friend, who saidyou look the same to meHe went to the doctor who saidwe’d better keep an eye on that,it might need an…
and there was this one
where I thought I’d caughtjust the right pace, thenthe change of pace whenthe poem goes deeperand then the perfectly chosen metaphorwith a rallentandowhich made it musicaland ended it justknock-’em-flatsheer poetrythen last nightI read your poemsfor the first time in oh fifty yearsand there it wasalmost identical andI realised where I’d got it fromand the part…
This is a SHOUTING poem.
not a whispering-of-love poemA SHOUTING POEM.This is a POSTER poem.Not a subtly persuading poem.not a think-about-it poemA POSTER POEMThis is a HARD OF HEARING poem.A what?I said a HARD OF HEARING POEMThis is a LOST SPECTACLES poemto test your sight.No no not LAST TESTICLESno try the next line – –A LOST SPECTACLES POEMnow where did…
It’s night. Across the Hudson River,
romantic: sprinkled in its wide white waywith office and apartment lights;wispy night clouds add their movement,setting off this jewelled velvet;in the mid-ground, a fire-launchthrows a high and spotlit fountainto assert that manmade beauty’s not forgotten,and citizens may share this high-rise paradise..The French, who have a knack for the poetic phrase,might pin down in words this…
Today, all things sing of you;
you show yourself –today – in all things;all things show you.you are herein all things – today –all things are you.Dare we say – today –You made them?Better to be silent,eyes shining.Alle thyngen af Thu syngen,Goddes-sonne yeboren ys;Alleluya, belles beswyngen,alle menne, synge inne blysse!
Restaurant; trattoria; tapas-bar;
what’s in a name? A meal by any other namewould smell as good…In 1765, M. Boulanger (well named) , a humblesoup-vendor, opened an establishment,whose soups and broths he rightly called‘restaurant’, for they were restorative…Watch this old French film: its very flickeringand jerking seems to give it life: waitersin their long aprons, whisk in and outto…