53 Comments

I love this idea! I tend to write lighthearted poems (although not always...we're allowed dark days), and I seem to have started a series I call Weather Forecast. Anyway, in a similar vein (but hers is way more fun), I love this one by Sue Cowling :

The Laughter Forecast

Today will be humorous

With some giggly patches,

Scattered outbreaks of chuckling in the south

And smiles spreading in the east later,

Widespread chortling

Increasing to gale-force guffaws towards evening.

The outlook for tomorrow

Is hysterical.

(I wish I'd written this one!!!)

XX Francesca

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The word guffaws is completely under rated!!! Thank you for lightening my day 😍

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This is brill! You can't help but smile when you read it

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Happy poetry day!! Love this post.

Here’s one of my favourites…

DANGEROUS COATS

By Sharon Owens

Someone clever once said

Women were not allowed pockets

In case they carried leaflets

To spread sedition

Which means unrest

To you & me

A grandiose word For commonsense

Fairness

Kindness

Equality

So ladies, start sewing

Dangerous coats

Made of pockets & sedition

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I love this ❤️

And if you don’t have the time, energy or capacity to sew pockets, just stuff the sedition down your bra 😂

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Quite

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Love it 🤣🤣

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Oooh. Oooh. How is this my first read of this poem. Ooooooh.

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I think I found this through your page, and I have it up on my kitchen wall, waiting to be framed. It just came at the right time for me.

Clearing

By Martha Postlethwaite

Do not try to serve

the whole world

or do anything grandiose.

Instead, create

a clearing

in the dense forest

of your life

and wait there

patiently,

until the song

that is yours alone to sing

falls into your open cupped hands

and you recognise and greet it.

Only then will you know

how to give yourself

to the world

so worthy of rescue.

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Love love love it x

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So many favourites, usually a big fan of Mary Oliver's poems, I love the way she writes and asks questions to the reader. My favourite recently though has to be Wonder Woman by Ada Limon. As someone with a chronic illness I really love the way it talks about invisible pain and the final line "she bowed and posed like she knew I needed a myth—a woman, by a river, indestructible." I really relate. It is marvellous!

https://onbeing.org/poetry/wonder-woman/

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Such a good choice Lisa. Love this poem. It gives me goose bumps.

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I just read this poem by Ada Limon! Perfect! I love it. And yes, I can definitely relate to the invisible illness and people saying how well I look... Marvellous. I want a Wonder Woman suit, too!

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Yes, me too!!

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Second Mary Oliver, always ❤️

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Love this one!

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Oh I love your choice, Nelly! This really made me smile. Thank you.

I've discovered Nikita Gill's poetry this year. Her poems have been a real place of solace for me. And I've enjoyed reading them aloud. I remembered there was one about a Forest that moved me in her beautiful collection Where Hope Comes From. Here it is https://www.yogahumans.com/post/class-theme-you-are-a-forest

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Thank you Janelle, read this one sat with my coffee looking out the window today ❤️

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I love this You Are A Forest poem. It's so tranquil. It reminds of a rather, um, sad? Macabre? Sinister? thought I had the other day while walking past the beautiful cemetery in our village. I thought about how peaceful it must be beneath those smooth stone slabs, surrounded by flowers and trees... No, I'm not suicidal! It was just a fleeting thought. Although clearly not so fleeting, but you know what I mean. Thank you for directing me towards Nikita Gill. I never know how to find beautiful poetry.

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https://open.substack.com/pub/poetrypals/p/whats-the-last-poem-you-read?r=zi0qp&utm_medium=ios

This was a good post which has some beautiful poems listed too xx

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Thank you!!! I love writing poetry, I’ve written close to 200 since the beginning of this year! I’d never been interested before, it seemed so incomprehensible and intellectual. I began with Beth Kempton’s prompts when I was in a dark place in my head, and it has been incredible. I am obsessed with word fun now! Poetry has brought back my creativity.❤️

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Ah how very wonderful ❤️

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I feel very similar, Francesca. I always felt like I didn't 'get' poetry. For similar reasons to you. I just needed my way in. I have also really resonated with Beth's prompts and writing. They often help me to tap into that more intuitive, flowing writing rather than the 'thinking' writing - I feel you'll know what I mean!

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I know exactly what you mean, poetry has given me an extra magic paintbrush!

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I'm so glad to have brought it to your attention, Francesca. I'm very 'new' to poetry. I think it was Mary Oliver who finally opened up the portal in me. I can't remember how I found Nikita Gill but that 'hope' collection in particular is powerful. I got lots of her other books for my last birthday too and I often dip into them. And true! You could say that was a macabre, sinister thought but it could also be comforting or soothing in a way? Everything, including us, is impermanent. And hopefully there is peace to be found.

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It was definitely a comforting and soothing thought. It was such a beautiful day, with the leaves beginning to change to red and gold, and there were nasturtiums growing higgledy-piggledy and it didn’t look too bad as a final resting place! I’m very new to poetry too, and because I don’t live in an English speaking country I can’t just go into a shop and browse a poetry section, unless I want to read / write poetry in French (Im in Switzerland, the French speaking part) which I haven’t yet tried as although I’m bilingual, English is my mother tongue. I’ll look up Nikita Gill on Amazon, sadly it’s the only place I can buy a range of English books.

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Does that mean you can write in two languages Francesca? Oh I’d love to be able to do that. Access to all those additional words! You’ll find sooo many poetry suggestions on here. And I’m going to do a post on anthologies shortly, which is always a good place to start too x

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I can write in French too, I’m fully bilingual but I’ve not yet attempted to write creatively in French, my mother tongue is English. I keep meaning to try though! Maybe today. A French Haiku to start with maybe! I’ll let you know! ❤️🙏🤗🌻

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That does sound idyllic. Ah right! Well hopefully in a few hours this thread will be chock full of recommendations for us :)

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I need to take this yoga class 😍

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I didn't actually read that part! I was just looking at the poem :) It does sound very grounding

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The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry reminds me to just.slow.down when life gets abit much!

And Lemn Sissay’s Let the Light Pour in is such a gorgeous happy little book to have nearby.

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What the living do by wonderful Marie Howe changed my poetry life and everything else: https://poets.org/poem/what-living-do#:~:text=the%20open%20living-room%20windows%20because%20the%20heat%E2%80%99s%20on%20too%20high

xxx

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Also, how are things with you? The poetry? Xx

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Had a lovely launch for Primers…very conscious I’m not writing enough. You?x

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Oh my. This poem. This poem. I am speechless. Thank you ❤️

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This is currently one of my favourites!

https://open.substack.com/pub/salenagodden/p/autumns-secretary

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Love this idea! The imagery in Lizzy Co's "Bury Me In the Library" has really stuck with me:

https://www.thelizzycoshow.com/p/smallstack-seed-pod-libraries-edition

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Woah. A beaut of a poem. Thanks for adding it to the list x

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The Wings Of Daylight - W. S. Merwin

The Wings Of Daylight

Brightness appears showing us everything it reveals the splendors it calls everything but shows it to each of us alone and only once and only to look at not to touch or hold in our shadows what we see is never what we touch what we take turns out to be something else what we see that one time departs untouched while other shadows gather around us the world's shadows mingle with our own we had forgotten them but they know us they remember us as we always were they were at home here before the first came everything will leave us except the shadows but the shadows carry the whole story at first daybreak they open their long wings

W. S. Merwin

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That last line of that Maggie Smith poem always gets me 🥺

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Holy friggin fair trade organic chocolate mocha, the last two lines are just...damn. just, wow. Thanks for sharing.

One poem I think back to now and again is Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda. It's just, the way he writes about love. I..you have to read it. I can't explain how hard that poem can hit you in the feels.

"Tonight I can wrote the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."

Just one of many golden snippets from that poem.

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Oh wow. Wow. I'd never read that poem before and I can see why you think back to it again and again. I feel like I want to try and figure out the form and the structure and why it works so well but also, not, because it is enough to experience it. Just wow. Thank you so much for sharing it x

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the maggie smith poem wasn't horrible

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And also this, the metaphysicals were a passion of mine for a while, the 1600s rock!

The Flea BY JOHN DONNE

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,

How little that which thou deniest me is;

It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,

And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;

Thou know’st that this cannot be said

A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,

Yet this enjoys before it woo,

And pampered swells with one blood made of two,

And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,

Where we almost, nay more than married are.

This flea is you and I, and this

Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;

Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,

And cloistered in these living walls of jet.

Though use make you apt to kill me,

Let not to that, self-murder added be,

And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since

Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?

Wherein could this flea guilty be,

Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?

Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou

Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;

’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:

Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,

Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.

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Dylan Thomas often amazes. I think I am used to reading good poetry, but he astounds. His poem "Song" is one that you may enjoy spending time with.

SONG

Love me, not as the dreaming nurses

My falling lungs, nor as the cypress

In his age the lass's clay.

Love me and lift your mask.

Love me, not as the girls of heaven

Their airy lovers, nor the mermaiden

Her salty lovers in the sea.

Love me and lift your mask.

Love me, not as the ruffling pigeon

The tops of trees, nor as the legion

Of the gulls the lip of waves.

Love me and lift your mask.

Love me, as loves the mole his darkness

And the timid deer the tigress:

Hate and fear be your two loves.

Love me and lift your mask.

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