Tag Archives: Mary Oliver

The Nourishing Dark Bread of a Poem – Mary Oliver’s Poem, Flare

From Flare 1. Welcome to the silly, comforting poem. It is not the sunrise, which is a red rinse, which is flaring all over the eastern sky; it is not […]

[Not So] Silly Old Man, Wet and Laughing in the Rain – Bill Cunningham (May 16th, 1942 – January 12th, 2020) R.I.P. And You Did Not End Up Having Simply Visited This World!

When Death Comes When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the […]

The Bigness of Small Poems – # 44 in a series – Joy, Not Meant To Be a Crumb

Days What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in: Where can we live but […]

No Mere Visitor to this Earth! R.I.P. Mary Oliver (1935-2019)

When Death Comes When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the […]

In Honour of the 92nd Anniversary of Rainer Maria Rilke’s Death Yesterday Three Marvellous Rilkean Knockoffs by Vuong, Oliver and Hayes

Archaic Torso of Apollo We cannot know his legendary head with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso is still suffused with brilliance from inside, like a lamp, in […]

When Death Came She Was Ready – A Deathbed Poem by Anna Swir

Tomorrow They Will Carve Me Death came and stood by me. I said: I am ready. I am lying in the surgery clinic in Krakow. Tomorrow they will carve me. […]

To Soul or Not to Soul – Poems on Soul!

Oh, I Said My subject is the soul Difficult to talk about, Since it is invisible, Silent and often absent. Even when it shows itself In the eyes of a […]

Poetry-As-Prayer – Calgary Nov. 27th and 28th, 2015

                                            Dedication I sing for you. I am made […]

Enough or Not? – Part One of Three – First, A Poem by Charles Wright

U.S. Poet Laureate Charles Wright   WITH EDDIE AND NANCY IN AREZZO AT THE CAFÉ GRANDE Piero in wraps, the True Cross sotto restauro, Piazza desolate edge Where sunlight breaks […]

Migrations

Mid-March. The wild geese are back in the field in front of our house. They remind me of something I wrote back in November when they were heading the other […]