Poem of the Day 7/5/11

Today's poem is by a person named Jean Toomer. I'm not sure where this poem comes from, because my poetry professor gave it to the class in printed out packets.

"Portrait in Georgia"

Hair--braided chestnut,
     coiled like a lyncher's rope,
Eyes--fagots,
Lips--old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath--the last sweet scent of canem
And her slim body, white as the ash
     of black flesh after flame.

--Blair

Poem of the Day 7/4/11

Today's poem of the day is by a poet named Lynn Powell. It's from her collecton of poetry called Old & New Testaments. Here is what her bio says in the book: "Lynn Powell was raised in East Tennessee and educated at Carson-Newman College and Cornell University. She has worked extensively as a writer in the schools for the Tennessee Arts Commission, the New Jersey State Council for the Arts, the Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation, and currently, the Ohio Arts Council. Her poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Poetry, The Gettysburg Review, and other journals. She lives in Oberlin, Ohio."
Ok, so here's her poem:

In The Garden

Some perennial herbs spread rapidly by
underground roots and quickly take over garden
space. A few of the worst offenders are
catnip, mint, and oregano.
---Burpee's Seed Catalog

What but a wall of brick
sunk three feet deep into the garden
could keep the oregano home
from the lavender,
curb the evangelical mint?

He speaks of his marriage
and I lean toward his mouth,
delicate as herbs we bruise
for fragrance.

By Lynn Powell

Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did!

--Blair

Poem of the Day 6/16/11

"Wendell Berry was born in Kentucky in 1934...he has made his living as a writer and farmer in Port Royal, Kentucky."--taken from his bio in "The Made Thing"

To Know the Dark
By Wendell Berry

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

Poem of the Day 6/15/2011

So today's poem of the day is short and sweet and from the Southern Appalachian Poetry class I'm taking this summer.

"Small Song" by A.R. Ammons

The reeds give

way to the

wind and give

the wind away