Ah Sun-flower
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun,
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
William Blake (1757Ð1827)
En la Sangre
|  | In the Blood
| |
La niña con ojos cafés |  | The brown-eyed child | |
y el abuelito con pelo blanco |  | and the white-haired grandfather | |
bailan en la tarde silenciosa. |  | dance in the silent afternoon. | |
Castañetean los dedos |  | They snap their fingers | |
a un ritmo oido solamente |  | to a rhythm only those | |
por los que aman. |  | who love can hear. |
Pat Mora
"En la Sangre"/"In the Blood" by Pat Mora. Copyright © 1994. From In Other Words: Literature by Latinas of the United States, Roberta Fernandez, ed. Reprinted by permission of the author and Arte Publico Press.
Limits
I've filled the raft
with little puffs of breath,
just enough so I can float.
If my soul had limits
so I could blow into it
I wouldn't need the raft.
Jack Myers
"Limits" by Jack Myers. Originally appeared in The Pittsburgh Quarterly.
On the Patio, Dallas
The prickly pear and yucca
dug from a roadside
do fine in pots. Sun,
sunflowers. The August heat.
Petunias, pinks, and even the geranium
probably don't belong. With watering
they hold on. One morning
I fed them organic fertilizer
made entirely of sea-going fish.
I hosed the place till the hanging baskets
dripped and the fence soaked dark.
There rose the brackish smell of bays
and wharves and I turned my head
to the distance as if to hear
the regular slapping of the sea.
Isabel Nathaniel
"On the Patio, Dallas" from The Dominion of Lights by Isabel Nathaniel. Copyright © 1996 by Isabel Nathaniel. Reprinted by permission of the author and Copper Beech Press.
Aspects of Eve
To have been one
of many ribs
and to be chosen.
To grow into something
quite different
knocking finally
as a bone knocks
on the closed gates of the garden
which unexpectedly
open.
Linda Pastan (b. 1932)
"Aspects of Eve" from Carnival Evening: New and Selected Poems 1968-1998 by Linda Pastan. Copyright © 1998. Used by permission of W.W. Norton & Company, Inc.
from The Love Poems of Marichiko
You ask me what I thought about
Before we were lovers.
The answer is easy.
Before I met you
I didn't have anything to think about.
Kenneth Rexroth (1905-1982)
"The Love Poems of Marichiko" (excerpt) from The Morning Star by Kenneth Rexroth. Copyright © 1979. Reprinted with the permission of New Directions Publishing Corporation.
from Romeo and Juliet
Act III, Scene ii
Come, night, come, Romeo, come, thou day in night,
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night,
Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Oh, I have bought the mansion of love,
But not possessed it, and though I am sold,
Not yet enjoyed.
William Shakespeare (1566-1616)
Sonnet XXIX
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on theeand then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For they sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
William Shakespeare (1566Ð1616)
Sugar Hill
How you like that?
Quadrasonic baby
When you turn these speakers up
Behind this music
A breeze actually blows
Through the room. Man!
That's how come I believe engineers
Truly exist
Though we cannot see them.
Lorenzo Thomas (b. 1944)
"Sugar Hill" from The Bathers by Lorenzo Thomas. Copyright © 1981. Reprinted with the permission of the author.
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