Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Darkness Is......

 

“Character, like a photograph, develops in darkness.”— Yousuf Karsh

SOURCE

“The darkness is really out there. It’s not something that’s in my head, just. It’s in my work because it’s in the world.”— Margaret Atwood

Midweek Motif ~ Darkness Is….

Darkness was; is; will be. Is it intrinsically bad? Or is it something that lies in between good and evil? What color is it? Is it gray, black or white?

Is it a part of life? Is darkness a necessity?

What is darkness? When does it come? Where does it live?

There can be endless questions regarding darkness.

What do you think darkness is?

In your poem today be dark J

Gacela Of The Dark Death

by Federico Garcia Lorca

I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to withdraw from the tumult of cemetries.
I want to sleep the dream of that child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas.

I don't want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood,
that the putrid mouth goes on asking for water.
I don't want to learn of the tortures of the grass,
nor of the moon with a serpent's mouth
that labors before dawn.

I want to sleep awhile,
awhile, a minute, a century;
but all must know that I have not died;
that there is a stable of gold in my lips;
that I am the small friend of the West wing;
that I am the intense shadows of my tears.

Cover me at dawn with a veil,
because dawn will throw fistfuls of ants at me,
and wet with hard water my shoes
so that the pincers of the scorpion slide.

For I want to sleep the dream of the apples,
to learn a lament that will cleanse me to earth;
for I want to live with that dark child
who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas. 

To A Dark Moses

by Lucille Clifton

you are the one
i am lit for.
Come with your rod
that twists
and is a serpent.
i am the bush.
i am burning
i am not consumed. 

We Grow Accustomed To The Dark 

by Emily Dickinson

We grow accustomed to the Dark -
When light is put away -
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye -

A Moment - We uncertain step
For newness of the night -
Then - fit our Vision to the Dark -
And meet the Road - erect -

And so of larger - Darknesses -
Those Evenings of the Brain -
When not a Moon disclose a sign -
Or Star - come out - within -

The Bravest - grope a little -
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead -
But as they learn to see -

Either the Darkness alters -
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight -
And Life steps almost straight. 

Dark Glasses

by Robert William Service

Sweet maiden, why disguise
The beauty of your eyes
With glasses black?
Although I'm well aware
That you are more than fair,
Allure you lack.
For as I stare at you
I ask if brown or blue
Your optics are?
But though I cannot see,
I'm sure that each must be
Bright as a star.

That may be green or grey,
'Tis very hard to say,
Or violet;
The lovelight in their glow
Alas, I'll never know,
To my regret.
In some rhyme-book I've read,
A lady bard has said,
And deemed it true,
Men will not bite the necks
Of sweeties who wear specs,--
Young man, would you?

But though they balk romance,
Columbus took a chance,
And so would I;
Even with orbs unseen
I'd fain make you my queen
And you en-sky.
Alas I see you go,
And I will never know
Your pupils tint;
So o'er a lonely drink
I force myself to think:
Damsel, you squint! 

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—

            (Next week Susan’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Zero Tolerance)

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Respect

SANITATION STRIKE 1968 

 National Civil Rights Museum Memphis, Tennessee, USA

☯

"Self-respect without the respect of others is like a jewel which 
will not stand the daylight."
~Alfred Nobel 

"Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized."

~Albert Einstein

“In societies where men are truly confident of their own worth, 

women are not merely tolerated but valued."  

~Aung San Suu Kyi

“Appreciation is a wonderful thing. 

It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.” 

~Voltaire

source

Midweek Motif ~ Respect

In a time when disrespect is rampant, noticing respect is vital.  We can still be surprised by the millions of ways people (and nations) show respect for each other.  Let's spread respect today. Let's show it and praise it and trouble it and mend it.

Your challenge:  Compose a new poem about a positive instance of respect.  

miss rosie

Lucille Clifton, 1936 - 2010

when i watch you 
wrapped up like garbage 
sitting, surrounded by the smell 
of too old potato peels 
or
when i watch you 
in your old man’s shoes 
with the little toe cut out 
sitting, waiting for your mind 
like next week’s grocery 
i say
when i watch you
you wet brown bag of a woman 
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
i stand up
through your destruction
i stand up

Mama Said ...

BY MARY MOORE EASTER

                             (there’ll be days like this.) — The Shirelles

These folks ’bout to respect me into the grave.

At eighty Mama said, (mama said)

           “People think you change when you’re old

             but you still got a girl inside.” 

And men could see her, too 

         — that pink silk dress —

soothe that hotel bellboy

         “Boy, I’m old enough 

          to be your mama.”

He coy 

          “well, you ain’t.”

But seventy is prime time 

for me to own what “elder” brings.

I reap myself with the respect they sow.

They don’t know I got the road 

wide open in me.

Source: Poetry (April 2013)

The Silent Ones 

by Robert William Service

I'm just an ordinary chap

Who comes home to his tea,

And mostly I don't care a rap

What people think of me;

I do my job and take my pay,

And love of peace expound;

But as I go my patient way,

--Don't push me round.

Though I respect authority

And order never flout,

When Law and Justice disagree

You can include me out.

The Welfare State I tolerate

If it is kept in bound,

But if you wish to rouse my hate

--Just push me round.

And that's the way with lots of us:

We want to feel we're free;

So labour governments we cuss

And mock at monarchy.

Yea, we are men of secret mirth,

And fury seldom sound;

But if you value peace on earth

--Don't push us round.

excerpt from My Indian In-laws

by Belinda Subraman

I remember India:
palm trees, monkey families,
fresh lime juice in the streets,
the sensual inundation
of sights and smells
and excess in everything.

I was exotic and believable there.

I was walking through dirt
in my sari, 
to temples of the deities
following the lead
of my Indian in-laws.

I was scooping up fire with my hands,
glancing at idols that held no meaning for me,
being marked by the ash.

They smiled at the Western woman,
acting religious, knowing
it was my way of showing respect.

. . . . 

(Read the rest HERE.)

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Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and 



visit others in the spirit of the community—






Next week Sumana's Midweek Motif will be "Memories."