Picturing poetry

Picturing Poetry:30 poems for National Poetry Month by Diane Cordell “Water dance” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6264147679/

"Im glad I am alive, to see and feelThe full deliciousness of this bright day,Thats like a heart with nothing to conceal..."-William Allingham, On a Forenoon of Spring “Grape leaf” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/7029435223/

“We are the music-makers,And we are the dreamers of dreams,Wandering by lone sea-breakers,And sitting by desolate streams;World-losers and world-forsakers,On whom the pale moon gleams:Yet we are the movers and shakersOf the world for ever, it seems.”-Arthur William Edgar OShaughnessy, Ode “Silver gleam” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5497877225/

"Is it so small a thing To have enjoyd the sun, To have lived light in the spring, To have loved, to have thought, to have done..." -Matthew Arnold, From the Hymn of Empedocles“So Small a Thing” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6833739034/

"i thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes" -e. e. cummings, i thank you“A Blue True Dream of Sky” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5740161357/

“When I am an old woman, I shall wear purplewith a red hat that doesnt go, and doesnt suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer glovesand satin candles, and say weve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tiredand gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells and run my stick along the public railingsand make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other peoples gardens and learn to spit.” -Jenny Joseph, “The Purple House” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4993960674/Warning - When IAm an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

“...remember, please, the Law by which we live,We are not built to comprehend a lie,We can neither love nor pity nor forgive...Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from your eyes,It will vanish and the stars will shine again,Because, for all our power and weight and size,We are nothing more than children of your brain!” -Rudyard Kipling, The Secret of the Machines “Gears” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4639244273/

“Start with the underwear. Sit him down. Hopping on one leg may stir unpleasant memories. If he gets his tights on, even backwards, praise him. Fingers, formerly webbed, struggle over buttons. Arms and legs, lengthened out of proportion, wait, as you do, for the rest of him to catch up. This body, so recently reformed, reclaimed, still carries the marks of its time as a frog. Be gentle. Avoid the words awkward and gawky. Do not use tadpole as a term of endearment. His body, like his clothing, may seem one size too big. Relax. Theres time enough for crowns. Hell grow into it.” -Anna Denise, How to Change a Frog Into a Prince“The Frog Prince” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5662493656/

“There are laws in the village against weeds.The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed.The weeds say life is a white and lovely thingAnd the weeds come on and on in irrepressible regiments.” -Carl Sandburg, Weeds “The Down on a Thistle” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4910332505/

“I asked God if it was okay to be melodramaticand she said yesI asked her if it was okay to be shortand she said it sure isI asked her if I could wear nail polishor not wear nail polishand she said honeyshe calls me that sometimesshe said you can do just exactlywhat you want toThanks God I saidAnd is it even okay if I dont paragraphmy lettersSweetcakes God saidwho knows where she picked that upwhat Im telling you isYes Yes Yes”-Kaylin Haught, God Says Yes to Me “Consignment shop” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/2937151948/

“Face it. Curiositywill not cause us to die-only lack of it will.Never to want to seethe other side of the hillor that improbable countrywhere living is an idyll(although a probable hell)would kill us all.Only the curioushave if they live a taleworth telling at all.” -Alastair Reid, Curiosity “Learning” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4618997470/

“A poem should be equal to: Not true. For all the history of grief An empty doorway and a maple leaf. For love The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea-- A poem should not mean But be. -Archibald MacLeish, Ars Poetica“Doorway” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/7032607411/

“I am a willow of the wilderness, Loving the wind that bent me. All my hurts My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, A quest of river-grapes, a mocking thrush, A wild-rose, or rock-loving columbine, Salve my worst wounds.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson, Musketaquid“A Woodland Walk: Columbine” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6886692522/

“Rationalists, wearing square hats, Think, in square rooms, Looking at the floor, Looking at the ceiling. They confine themselves To right-angled triangles. If they tried rhomboids, Cones, waving lines, ellipses -- As, for example, the ellipse of the half-moon -- Rationalists would wear sombreros.” -Wallace Stevens, Six Significant Landscapes“Fedora” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6886626172/

“...What’s left is a photo of A completely solitary sight In a book anyone might open. But whether our touch at the door gets forgotten Or turned into other sights, light, form, I hope you’ll be truthful To me. At least as truthful as lightning, Skinning a tree.” -Ruth Padel, Icicles Round a Tree in Dumfriesshire“photographer” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/7032851475/

"The flower offered of itself And eloquently spoke Of gods In languages of rainbows Perfumes And secret silence..." -Phillip Pulfrey, Love, Abstraction“Secret Silence” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5638698800/ and other Speculations

"(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)Someone I loved once gave mea box full of darkness.It took me years to understandthat this, too, was a gift."-Mary Oliver,The Uses of Sorrow “The Uses of Sorrow” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6883359520/

"Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!One mellow smile through the soft vapory air,Ere, oer the frozen earth, the loud winds run,Or snows are sifted oer the meadows bare...” -William Cullen Bryant, Autumn “One Smile More” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6302182883/

“I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topazor the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul.I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;So I love you because I know no other waythan this: where I does not exist, nor you,so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.” -Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet XVII “Arabesque” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5748259750/

“Glory be to God for dappled things,For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow,For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls, finches wings;Landscape plotted and pieced, fold, fallow and plough,And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.All things counter, original, spare, strange,Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim...” -Gerard Manley Hopkins, Pied Beauty “Autumn” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5072935794/

“They went with songs to the battle, they were young.Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,They fell with their faces to the foe.They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.At the going down of the sun and in the morning,We will remember them.” -Laurence Binyon, For the Fallen“Reflected Glory” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/4778990296/

“September leafBlushing...Remembering...The torrid kisses...Of JulySeptember leafSensing winter....And oblivionShivers...And whispers‘July, my only love’ ‘Say you remember.’” -LaRetha Adams, Before Winter “Say You Remember” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6189594015/

“The poetry of earth is never dead:When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,And hide in cooling trees, a voice will runFrom hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;That is the Grasshoppers—he takes the leadIn summer luxury,—he has never doneWith his delights; for when tired out with funHe rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed...” -John Keats, On the Grasshopper and Cricket “Hiding in Plain Sight” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6039613010/

“Some day, when trees have shed their leavesAnd against the mornings whiteThe shivering birds beneath the eavesHave sheltered for the night,Well turn our faces southward, love,Toward the summer isleWhere bamboos spire to shafted groveAnd wide-mouthed orchids smile.And we will seek the quiet hillWhere towers the cotton tree,And leaps the laughing crystal rill,And works the droning bee.And we will build a cottage thereBeside an open glade,With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,And ferns that never fade.” -Claude McKay, After the Winter “Icy” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6715466795/

"Do you remember still the falling starsthat like swift horses through the heavens racedand suddenly leaped across the hurdlesof our wishes - do your recall? And wedid make so many! For there were countless numbersof stars: each time we looked above we wereastounded by the swiftness of their daring play,while in our hearts we felt safe and securewatching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,knowing somehow we had survived their fall." -Rainer Maria Rilke, Falling Stars IV “Falling Stars” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/7026818599/

"Id like to go by climbing a birch tree,And climb black branches up a snow-white trunkToward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,But dipped its top and set me down again.That would be good both going and coming back.One could do worse than be a swinger of birches." - Robert Frost, Birches “Birch Trees” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6277610899/

"The world turns softlyNot to spill its lakes and rivers,The water is held in its armsAnd the sky is held in the water.What is water,That pours silver,And can hold the sky?"-Hilda Conkling, Water “What is Water? by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5172616442/

“I stand between the past and the pursuing,Between the dreamd of deed and the undone,With all the earth on tiptoe for the doing,And breathless for the start-word of the sun...” -Theophilus Marzials, Spring“A Promise of Blackberries” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/5733737401/

"Today I saw the dragon-flyCome from the wells where he did lie.An inner impulse rent the veilOf his old husk: from head to tailCame out clear plates of sapphire mail.He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;Thro crofts and pastures wet with dewA living flash of light he flew." -Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Dragonfly “A Living Flash of Light” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6029773687

“Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past.” -T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets“The Future” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/6881358296/

“There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes well walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And well go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.” -Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends“Where the sidewalk ends” by dmcordell http://www.flickr.com/photos/dmcordell/3727475622/

What Im Thinking: http://dmcordell.blogspot.com/What Im Tweeting: http://twitter.com/dmcordellMy Photos: http://www.flickr.com/dmcordell/My Slidedecks http://www.slideshare.net/diane/presentations

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Picturing poetry

by Diane Cordell

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