Category: poetry

Charles Bukowski

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What animals make the best/worst pets?

You may have read (thank you for stopping by) in my posts that I share my life with Patch-the dog. But I also love cats. Fact is I’m a total animal lover.

What follows is a light, gentle poem by quite an interesting character who grew up in Los Angeles …

My Cats

I know. I know.
they are limited, have different
needs and
concerns.

but I watch and learn from them.
I like the little they know,
which is so
much.

they complain but never
worry,
they walk with a surprising dignity.
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can’t
understand.

their eyes are more
beautiful than our eyes.
and they can sleep 20 hours
a day
without
hesitation or
remorse.

when I am feeling
low
all I have to do is
watch my cats
and my
courage
returns.

I study these
creatures.

they are my
teachers.

Charles Bukowski (1920~1994)

Hope you don’t mind

Joey Jones5 Comments

How would you improve your community?

As an outsider to this hood, I can tell you the community has absolutely nailed it. There is nothing I could do or say to improve it.

Instead, as you know, when given the space, I will put the words of others. Several of you have told me you love this poem, as do I. So I’m sure you won’t mind me posting it again..and again..and again 🐦‍⬛

Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

By Emily Dickinson ( 1830~1886)

Keep on dreaming

Joey Jones2 Comments

How have you adapted to the changes brought on by the Covid-19 pandemic? ****** If it’s all the same to you, WP, I’ll give this DP a miss and use the space for the words of another..

Dreams

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

By Langston Hughes
(1901~1967)


‘ The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,’ Eleanor Roosevelt

This

Joey JonesLeave a comment

What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?

There are many ways people can find to help them cope with negative feelings. Today I choose this….

My head’s in the sand

Dreaming of a land

Of elves and fairies

Fruits and berries

Cities made of trees

Gates without keys

Singing bees, dancing birds

Plenty of unknown words

A realm where jesters rule

And a simple stone is a jewel


By Kostas Lagos ( Greek, contemporary poet)

In the words of Derek Walcott ( plus short edit re DP

Joey JonesLeave a comment

What movies or TV series have you watched more than 5 times? – Nah, WP, not today. But thank you

Hi. I shall use this space to put the words of another.

Derek Walcott ( 1930-2017)

Love after Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

🤔Edit… it has just occurred to me that I no longer have the time ( to spare) to rewatch stuff. Time is of the essence, right?

In the words of Emily Dickinson

Joey Jones2 Comments

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Dont tell! they’d banish us – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell your name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!

Emily Dickinson 1830~1886

Words from William Wordsworth

Joey Jones5 Comments

What are three objects you couldn’t live without?- I’m hijacking today’s DP space

Hawthorne

Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

William Wordsworth ( 1770~1850)

Rudyard Kipling has the words

Joey Jones6 Comments

What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?

The Power of the Dog

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But… you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ’em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

By Rudyard Kipling ( 1865~1936)




Patch

In the words of Derek Walcott

Joey Jones2 Comments

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread, Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott ( 1930~2017)

When giving is all we have

Joey Jones9 Comments

Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.

One river gives its journey to the next

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

Alberto Rios (1952 ~ )