This Is Just To Say BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

The Moment - Margaret Atwood

The moment when, after many years

of hard work and a long voyage 
you stand in the centre of your room, 
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country, 
knowing at last how you got there, 
and say, I own this, 

is the same moment when the trees unloose 
their soft arms from around you, 
the birds take back their language, 
the cliffs fissure and collapse, 
the air moves back from you like a wave 
and you can't breathe. 

No, they whisper. You own nothing. 
You were a visitor, time after time 
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming. 
We never belonged to you. 
You never found us. 
It was always the other way round. 

Make the ordinary come alive - William Martin

Do not ask your children

to strive for extraordinary lives.

Such striving may seem admirable,

but it is the way of foolishness.

Help them instead to find the wonder

and the marvel of an ordinary life.

Show them the joy of tasting

tomatoes, apples and pears.

Show them how to cry

when pets and people die.

Show them the infinite pleasure

in the touch of a hand.

And make the ordinary come alive for them.

The extraordinary will take care of itself.

Life ~ john roedel

 this isn't how I planned for 

my life to look like," I whispered

under my breath as I walked to my car

"tell me about it,"

an eavesdropping cloud

replied to me from above 

I looked up and watched

the cloud billow between looking

like a dove and an open hand

the cloud continued:

"I used to be a snowfield in Montana.

I used to be a dewdrop kiss on a lily.

I used to be a puddle in a parking lot.

I used to be a river in Mexico.

I used to be a glacier.

I used to be a waterfall mist in a jungle.

I used to be so many things.

"doesn't that make you sad?" I asked the cloud

"it used to - but not anymore," the cloud replied while wrapping herself around me like a scarf.  "I don't think either of us were created to stay the same form our entire life."

"I’m not sure I can let go of my old life," I sighed

"oh you simply must," the cloud whispered in my ear. 

" because once you release what you used to be

and embrace who you are meant to be now - 

something amazing will happen," the cloud said

"what's that?" I asked while looking at my hands that were beginning to billow and shapeshift. 

"you'll start to float."

and with that my feet lifted off the ground 

Be Drunk - Charles Baudelaire

Always be drunk.

That's it!

The great imperative!

 

In order not to feel

Time's horrid fardel

bruise your shoulders,

grinding you into the earth,

Get drunk and stay that way.

 

On what?

On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.

But get drunk.

 

And if you sometimes happen to wake up

on the porches of a palace,

in the green grass of a ditch,

in the dismal loneliness of your own room,

 

your drunkenness gone or disappearing,

ask the wind,

the wave,

the star,

the bird,

the clock,

 

ask everything that flees,

everything that groans

or rolls

or sings,

everything that speaks,

ask what time it is;

 

and the wind,

the wave,

the star,

the bird,

the clock

will answer you:

"Time to get drunk!

 

Don't be martyred slaves of Time,

Get drunk!

Stay drunk!

On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!" 

I confess by Alison Luterman

I stalked her

in the grocery store: her crown

of snowy braids held in place by a great silver clip,

her erect bearing, radiating tenderness,

watching

the way she placed yogurt and avocados in her 

basket,

beaming peace like the North Star.

I wanted to ask, "What aisle did you find

your serenity in, do you know

how to be married for fifty years or how to live 

alone,

excuse me for interrupting, but you seem to 

possess

some knowledge that makes the earth turn and 

burn on its axis—"

But we don’t request such things from strangers

nowadays. So I said, "I love your hair."

My lungs - John Roedel

 my brain and

heart divorce

a decade ago

over who was

to blame about

how big of a mess

I have become

eventually,

they couldn't be 

in the same room

with each other 

now my head and heart 

share custody of me

I stay with my brain 

during the week

and my heart 

gets me on weekends

they never speak to one another

    - instead, they give me

the same note to pass

to each other every week 

and their notes they

send to one another always 

says the same thing:

"This is all your fault"

on Sundays

my heart complains

about how my 

head has let me down

in the past

and on Wednesday

my head lists all

of the times my 

heart has screwed

things up for me 

in the future

they blame each

other for the 

state of my life

there's been a lot

of yelling - and crying

so,

    lately, I've been

spending a lot of 

time with my gut

who serves as my

unofficial therapist

most nights, I sneak out of the

window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine

and collapse on my 

gut's plush leather chair

that's always open for me

~ and I just sit sit sit sit

until the sun comes up

last evening, 

my gut asked me

if I was having a hard

time being caught 

between my heart

and my head

I nodded

I said I didn't know

if I could live with 

either of them anymore

"my heart is always sad about

something that happened yesterday

while my head is always worried

about something that may happen tomorrow," 

I lamented

my gut squeezed my hand

"I just can't live with

my mistakes of the past

or my anxiety about the future,"

I sighed

my gut smiled and said:

"in that case, 

you should 

go stay with your 

lungs for a while,"

I was confused

  - the look on my face gave it away

"if you are exhausted about

your heart's obsession with

the fixed past and your mind's focus

on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you

there is no yesterday in your lungs

there is no tomorrow there eithe

there is only now

there is only inhale

there is only exhale

there is only this moment

there is only breath

and in that breath

you can rest while your

heart and head work 

their relationship out."

this morning,

while my brain

was busy reading

tea leaves

and while my

heart was staring

at old photographs 

I packed a little

bag and walked

to the door of 

my lungs

before I could even knock

she opened the door

with a smile and as

a gust of air embraced me

she said

"what took you so long?"