Poems

AGAINST HESITATION

If you stare at it long enoughthe mountain becomes unclimbable. Tally it up. How much time have you spent waiting for the soup to cool?Icicles hang from January guttersonly as long as they can. Fingers pause above piano keys for the chordthat will not form. Slam them down I say. Make music of what you can. Some people stop at the wrong cornerand waste a dozen years hoping for directions. I can’t be them. Tell every girl I’ve ever knownI’m coming to break her door down,that my teeth will clench the simple flower I only knew not to give . . . Ah, how long did I stand beneath the eaves believing the storm would stop? It never did.

And there is lightning in me still.
--Charles Rafferty



Sweet Sanity

I remember
seeing her as a child,
head bent down
sun glinting off her reddish-golden strands
whispering
imagining
when suddenly a girl-giggle
punctured the sky.

Years later
as an adolescent,
it's a cry
I hear
as the whispering
and imagining
take on a dark color
in her mind.
She struggles to stay
and face herself.

The sun shines on her bent head today
much older
a young woman,
releasing the whispering
the imagining
regaining herself
understanding,
her laughter again
decorating the world
with the brilliant colors
of her soul.

By Juli Ryan

Dedicated to my daughter, Ashley, who has bipolar disorder. She is the most courageous person that I know!



A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?



YOU MAKE ME BEAUTIFUL

I can’t help hearing the lies
I can’t help letting them inside
These words have gotten me low
and got me high.

You stand and guard at my door
Allowing me to be more than what they say
Allowing me to be strong and live my way

You make me beautiful
Believing in me
You make me beautiful
And deep within I find the best side of myself
I know no one else
Makes me feel beautiful like you

My dreams are never too wild
My words are never laughed off or brushed aside
You make me feel like a star
that’s not outshined

You make me beautiful
Believing in me
You make me beautiful
And deep within I find the best side of myself
I know no one else
Makes me feel beautiful…

Beautiful
And deep within I find the best side of myself
I know nobody else
Makes me feel beautiful like you

written by Marina Verenikina & Nick Baker





The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.


To Make This Life Worth While
Poet: George Eliot

May every soul that touches mine-
Be it the slightest contact-
Get therefrom some good;

Some little grace; one kindly thought;
One aspiration yet unfelt;

One bit of courage
For the darkening sky;

One gleam of faith
To brave the thickening ills of life;

One glimpse of brighter skies
Beyond the gathering mists-

To make this life worthwhile



i carry your heart with me by E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)



I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou



The Kiss
by Stephen Dunn

She pressed her lips to mind.
—a typo

How many years I must have yearned
for someone’s lips against mind.
Pheromones, newly born, were floating
between us. There was hardly any air.

She kissed me again, reaching that place
that sends messages to toes and fingertips,
then all the way to something like home.
Some music was playing on its own.

Nothing like a woman who knows
to kiss the right thing at the right time,
then kisses the things she’s missed.
How had I ever settled for less?

I was thinking this is intelligence,
this is the wisest tongue
since the Oracle got into a Greek’s ear,
speaking sense. It’s the Good,

defining itself. I was out of my mind.
She was in. We married as soon as we could.



Today is My Day

Today my thoughts are centred on expecting only the best
and giving only the best.

Today my mind and heart are open to new opportunities
and I make the most out of every situation.

Today I will smile and act enthusiastically in everything I do.
I will make every person I meet feel very important and
I will show them that I care.

Today my confidence is high and I am willing to step out
and take a chance.
I speak freely to all those I meet.
I know I have something valuable to contribute.
I expect results today and my time is well invested.

Today I am one step closer to achieving my goals and dreams.
I always keep my eyes focussed on success
and prosperity.

Today I will sow good seed so that I will reap my harvest of reward.

Today is my day!


Author Unknown



Do not go gentle into that good night
by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Life Is What We Make It
by Edgar A. Guest

Life is a jest;
Take the delight of it.
Laughter is best;
Sing through the night of it.
Swiftly the tear
And the hurt and the ache of it
Find us down here;
Life must be what we make of it.
Life is a song;
Dance to the thrill of it.
Grief's hours are long,
And cold is the chill of it.
Joy is man's need;
Let us smile for the sake of it.
This be our creed:
Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a soul;
The virtue and vice of it,
Strife for a goal,
And man's strength is the price of it.
Your life and mine,
The bare bread and the cake of it
End in this line:
Life must be what we make of it.



Tolerance
by Barbara Tremblay Cipak

Hold my hand
then judge me
Or better
Feel my sameness,
Look me in the eye
then tell me I don't matter
Or better
See I am you,
Sit at my dinner table
Sharing food and conversation
then tell me I'm not worthy
Or better
Understand my hunger is like yours,
Take a walk with me
then hate where I live
Or better
Understand my plight,
Watch my children play
and tell me they are expendable
Or better
Love them as your own,
As I hold your hand
Look in your eyes
Eat at your table
Walk with you
Understand your plight
And watch your children play,
I know I want to be better too


Tolerance
by Barbara Tremblay Cipak, Copyrighted

Hold my hand
then judge me
Or better
Feel my sameness,
Look me in the eye
then tell me I don't matter
Or better
See I am you,
Sit at my dinner table
Sharing food and conversation
then tell me I'm not worthy
Or better
Understand my hunger is like yours,
Take a walk with me
then hate where I live
Or better
Understand my plight,
Watch my children play
and tell me they are expendable
Or better
Love them as your own,
As I hold your hand
Look in your eyes
Eat at your table
Walk with you
Understand your plight
And watch your children play,
I know I want to be better too


Maya Angelou Poems
This poem entitled "A Brave and Startling Truth" was written for the United Nations 50th Anniversity
A Brave and Startling Truth

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

If we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls.

Love costs all we are and will ever be.
Yet it is only love which sets us free.
A Brave and Startling Truth.

It is possible and imperative that we discover
A brave and startling truth.

When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
And without crippling fear

When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonders of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.

Hope is a strange invention -- by Emily Dickinson
Hope is a strange invention --
A Patent of the Heart --
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out --

Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own --


Autobiography in Five Chapters
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost... I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in... it's a habit
My eyes are open
I know where I am
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.
'Autobiography in Five Chapters' was written by Portia Nelson (1920 - 2001) and quoted in
“The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying”.