Poetry Ptuesday: All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani

[Whoa! I missed TWO Poetry Ptuesday. Guys, my bad! Here’s a fun one though.] * All Those Gold Leaves by Anis Mojgani My piano coat unbuttoned and all my pianos fell into the leaves. I was picking up pianos for

Poetry Ptuesday: Becoming American by Vern Rutsala

The Yankees needed ditch diggers, sandhogs, fodder for the wild hunger of their mills and sent out invitations with no RSVPs. My people came then, dimly knowing they had to cut away the baggage of the selves they brought with

Poetry Ptuesday: The Meaning of Life by Nancy Fitzgerald

[This week’s poem arrives later than usual, my apologies. Tomorrow would have been Amanda’s 35th birthday. It is the third one after she killed herself. I always wonder about that. Did she think of how many more birthdays she would

Poetry Ptuesday: The Journey by Mary Oliver

On day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my

Poetry Ptuesday: Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

[Desiderata: something considered necessary or highly desirable.] ***** Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth

Poetry Ptuesday: Wonder by Maya Angelou

A day drunk with the nectar of slowness weaves its way between the years to find itself at the flophouse of night to sleep and be seen no more.   Will I be less dead because I wrote this poem

Poetry Ptuesday: In This Story by Caitlyn Siehl

in this story, your mother isn’t the villain. in this story, you find a way to pick the lock, to wake up, to climb out of the tower yourself. in this story, you’re angry. in this story, you meet a

Poetry Ptuesday: Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell

Poetry Ptuesday: The Night Migrations by Louise Gluck

This is the moment when you see again the red berries of the mountain ash and in the dark sky the birds’ night migrations. It grieves me to think the dead won’t see them– these things we depend on, they

Poetry Ptuesday: The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its

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