A Poem for Your Pocket

A Poem for Your Pocket

Kym so kindly reminded me yesterday, today is Poem in Your Pocket Day! She asked us to share our favorite poem. I could easily share with you two of my absolute favorites: Fog by Carl Sandburg or Joyce Kilmer’s Trees. But, today, I am hoping that the poem you put in your pocket changes you, wakes you, and engages you – and while these poems do that most certainly. Today, I am sharing something that does those things to me!

One of my absolute favorite poets is Pablo Neruda and I first became aware of him more than 20 years ago in the film Il Postino. And, so began my love of Neruda.

Die Slowly
Pablo Neruda

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routes every day,
who never changes pace,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not speak and does not experience,
dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
dotting ones “it’s” rather than a bundle of emotions,
the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
that turn a yarn into a smile,
that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
dies slowly.

He who does not travel, who does not read,
who does not listen to music,
who does not find grace in himself,
she who does not find grace in herself,
dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,
he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.


There is my poem for your pocket today, Gentle Reader. As always on Thursdays, I am joining Carole where you just might find another poem or two as well!

Three on Thursday | 4.19.18

Three on Thursday | 4.19.18

i·ro·ny
noun
• a state of affairs or an even that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.

Thing One:

Tax Day Reprieve

Thing Two:

The Deciding Vote

Thing Three:

Making your last day on the job count

There you have it… my Ironic Three on Thursday!

Carole (and Dale) are on a brief hiatus this week doing all manner of fun things. The regularly scheduled Three on Thursday returns next week!

Three on Thursday | 4.19.18

Three on Thursday, Poetry

April is National Poetry Month and today I am sharing with you three poems that I frequently think of or read. Poems that were introduced to me by my grandfather, poems I discovered on my own, and poems that I discovered through you…

Poem One:
Purple Martins by Carl Sandburg
If we were such and so, the same as these,
maybe we too would be slingers and sliders,
tumbling half over the water mirrors,
tumbling half over at the horse heads of the sun,
tumbling our purple numbers.

Twirl on, you and your satin blue.
Be water birds, be air birds.
Be these purple tumblers you are.

Dip and get away
From loops into slip-knots,
Write your own ciphers and figure eights.
It is your wooded island here in Lincoln park.
Everybody knows this belongs to you.

Five fat geese
Eat grass on a sod bank
And never count your slinging ciphers,
your sliding figure eights,

A man on a green paint iron bench,
Slouches his feet and sniffs in a book,
And looks at you and your loops and slip-knots,
And looks at you and your sheaths of satin blue,
And slouches again and sniffs in the book,
And mumbles: It is an idle and a doctrinaire exploit.
Go on tumbling half over in the water mirrors.
Go on tumbling half over at the horse heads of the sun.
Be water birds, be air birds.
Be these purple tumblers you are.

Poem Two:
Ode To Ironing by Pablo Neruda
Poetry is white:
it comes from water swathed in drops,
it wrinkles and gathers,
this planet’s skin has to spread out,
the sea’s whiteness has to be ironed out,
and the hands keep moving,
the sacred surfaces get smoothed,
and things are done this way:
the hands make the world every day,
fire conjoins with steel,
linen, canvas, and cotton arrive
from the scuffles in the laundries,
and from light a dove is born:
chastity returns out of the foam.
Poem Three:
The Journey by Mary Oliver
One 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 life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

And, there you have my Three on Thursday contribution… want to see more? Head on over to Carole’s!

Three on Thursday | 4.19.18

Three on Thursday | 4.5.18

Today’s things are a “mixed bag” …

Thing One:

In the WTF Category

Thing Two:

I have just 18 rows to go on my Cluaranach! Well, 19 if you count my kitchner row…

Thing Three:

I have not gotten a hair cut in 8 months, but all that ends today! Yes, I have an appointment to visit my hairdresser this afternoon! I am beyond excited…silly, I know!

And, there you have the things from my world today! Want to see more? Head on over to Carole’s!

Three on Thursday | 4.19.18

Three on Thursday | 3.29.18

The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful! e.e. cummings

I am desperately trying to see my back yard through the lens of cummings, so today I am sharing three good things about the rain!

Thing One:

After several of moderately warm and rainy days, my forsythia is ready to explode with color and the leaf buds on the lilac bush are ready to burst open. Should this phenomenon happen, expect some brilliant forsythia photos tomorrow! I have my fingers crossed!

Thing Two:

The non-stop rains have helped me focus on my list and in such, I have made excellent headway and the end of the list is near!

Thing Three:

We have a “window” of no rain in the forecast starting Saturday and lasting through Monday! Which is PERFECT because it encompasses both Easter Sunday and Steve’s birthday on Monday! Now, I am not holding my breath because weather forecasting in the Pittsburgh area leaves much to be desired, but I am hopeful!

And, with that I am off to finish those last few things on my list! Want to see more things? Head on over to Carole’s!

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