|photo credit: Denis Collette...!!! via photopin cc|
Dylan Thomas, born 27 October 1914, reminds the reader of the insidious passage of time in these memorable lines from Fern Hill:
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising... (Click HERE for a reading)
Sylvia Plath, born 27 October 1932, boldly considers her own mortality in the poem Lady Lazarus:
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Is an art, like everything else... (Click HERE for a reading)
e.e. cummings, born 14 October 1894, shows, rather than tells the reader the essence of love, in somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond:
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) Click HERE for a reading.
Such poetry is, to me, a gift and a legacy of all that is good about humanity: 'everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes'. Do you have a poem that you would like to share with us today? Please link up a piece of your choice and join us in reading and responding to the best of online poetry.