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Ten Poems You Must Know (3) 28 January 2009

Posted by ABD in ABD, Arts, Poetry, Politics, Reviews.
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This is the third post of a ten-part series. The first two introduced Langston Hughes’ Harlem and Wilfred Owen’s Dulce et Decorum Est.

One of Yeats’ poems was briefly mentioned in my previous post in this series, but the one you should really know is

SECOND COMING
William Butler Yeats

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Today 28 January 2009

Posted by ABD in ABD, Poetry, Spirituality.
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Put away your toys,
put on your clothes—
We are going to be godly today.

Stop stuffing your face—
slow down, look at yourself.
Turn down that noise
Heavy with sin, let us begin
to pick and choose our way

“The time for rest is over”,
he said.

Learn to be nimble, retrain your gaze

We are going to be godly today.

Turkey Diary: Recognition 18 July 2008

Posted by ANNA in ANNA, Poetry, Travel.
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1. Sanliurfa, July 14

He runs in front of me, dark-haired, wearing red. For half of a moment, I know him. My student, Muhammad, is here. To our right, the pool churns with bodies, wet and black. The ashes from Nimrod’s fire settled here, or so the Turks believe. Each flake became a fish; each fish is overfed. In groups of two they are beautiful. In tens, they are dense. In hundreds, grotesque. In front of the man selling pellets of food, I can no longer see water between the confusion of fins. They are like flies on a chicken bone, like snakes, spawning.

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Life Spans and Relativity 4 June 2008

Posted by mecca in ABUSHARIF, Arts, Poetry.
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Here’s a nice poem I came across. It’s in an old paperback I’ve got: Immortal Poems of the English Language. Language moves. We all know that. It can make familiar information so pointed. This poem (“On a Fly drinking out of his Cup”) is by William Oldys (1696 – 1761).

Busy, curious, thirsty fly!
Drink with me and drink as I:
Freely welcome to my cup,
Couldst thou sip and sip it up:
Make the most of life you may,
Life is short and wears away.

Both alike are mine and thine
Hastening quick to their decline:
Thine’s a summer, mine’s no more,
Though repeated to threescore.
Threescore summers, when they’re gone,
Will appear as short as one!

Amritapuri Ashram, Kerala, 6:30 am 3 May 2008

Posted by EDITOR in GUESTS, Poetry, Spirituality.
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Our guest contributor this week is Emma O’Donnell, a Boston-based theology student.

Amritapuri Ashram, Kerala, 6:30 am

If what we seek
resides in silence
why then this cacophony
of birds, this riotous
explosion of song bounding
off the river at dawn?

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