Category: poetry

Words today by Rumi

Joey Jones9 Comments

What’s your favourite cartoon?

Hey, WP. Like lots of people, I enjoy screentime, but it never occurs to me to watch cartoons.

There was a day I’d sit with kids and enjoy their squeals of joy over some slapstick moment-or watch them totally engrossed in a new animated movie. But that was way back when.

And so, with little else to say, I’ll do what I love to do at times like this-hand over the space to someone special.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning, a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

By Jalaluddin Rumi ( 1207~1273)

Translated by Coleman Barks

Al-Ma’arri: AD 973~1058

Joey Jones4 Comments

What are your feelings about eating meat?

No, thank you, WP 💚 Haven’t eaten meat  for many moons

The following poem was written in around 1000 AD by a blind Arab philosopher, poet and writer named Al-Ma’arri: AD 973 – 1058 ( by Gentle World)

‘ You are diseased in understanding and religion.

Come to me, that you may hear something of sound truth.

Do not unjustly eat fish the water has given up.

And do not desire as food the flesh of slaughtered animals,

Or the white milk of mothers who intended its pure draught

for their young, not noble ladies.

And do not grieve the unsuspecting birds by taking eggs;

for injustice is the worst of crimes.

And spare the honey which the bees get industriously

from the flowers of fragrant plants;

For they did not store it that it might belong to others,

Nor did they gather it for bounty and gifts.

I washed my hands of all this; and wish that I

Perceived my way before my hair went gray!

A few words from Sara Teasdale

Joey Jones3 Comments

What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?

Hey WP, this is not the day to dig up hard decisions I have had to make in the past. And there have been so many! I feel quite bright n sunny today, with no wish to bring in dark clouds to spoil things.

Instead, what I will do, what decision I have made is to post another of my favourite poems ( again). No apologies for repeating There Will Come Soft Rains written in 1920.

(War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.


By Sara Teasdale 1884~1933

A few words from John Donne

Joey Jones8 Comments

Who are your current most favorite people?

No man is an island,

Entire of itself;

Every man is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod is washed away by sea,

Europe is the less,

As if a promontory were:

As well as if a manor of thy friend’s

Or of thine own were.

Any man’s death diminishes me,

Because I am involved in mankind.

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee.

No Man is an Island by John Donne 1572~1631

And a few words from Emily Bronte

Joey Jones4 Comments

What’s the first impression you want to give people?

‘Friendly’

Having wrapped up today’s DP in just a   word, I now have space to put those of another.

A grey Wagtail


Riches I hold in light esteem,
   And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream,
   That vanished with the morn:

And if I pray, the only prayer
   That moves my lips for me
Is, “Leave the heart that now I bear,
   And give me liberty!”

Yes, as my swift days near their goal:
   ’Tis all that I implore;
In life and death a chainless soul,
   With courage to endure.

The Old Stoic by Emily Bronte 1818~1848

Please, be seated

Joey Jones18 Comments

Name the most expensive personal item you’ve ever purchased (not your home or car).

A sofa. From a company called SofaSofa. ( Yes, there is a story behind this, but it can wait)

Once again, WP, as my response to today’s  DP is so short and sweet you have given me the luxury of space to write in the words of another. I thank you.

This poem c .1800 is billed as Anonymous.

The Common and the Goose

The law locks up the man or woman

Who steals the goose from off the common

But leaves the greater felon loose

Who steals the common from the goose.

Vodcasts and W.H.Davies

Joey Jones3 Comments

What podcasts are you listening to?

There are two Vodcasts I enjoy: Full disclosure with James O’ Brien and Happy Place with Fearne Cotton.

As today’s DP has been short and sweet, I will add this if I may..

The Rain

I hear leaves drinking rain;

I hear rich leaves on top

Giving the poor beaneath

Drop after drop;

‘ Ti’s a sweet noise to hear

These green leaves drinking near.

And when the Sun comes out,

After this Rain shall stop

A wondrous Light will fill

Each dark, round drop;

I hope the Sun shines bright;

‘Twill be a lovely sight.

W.H.Davies 1871~1940

AI overview

W.H. Davies’s poem “The Rain” is a two-stanza poem that uses the imagery of rain on leaves to comment on socioeconomic inequality, personifying the “rich” leaves on top that get the most water and the “poor” leaves below that only receive a drop at a time. The poem expresses hope for future equality, envisioning a time after the rain when the sun will shine brightly on all the drops equally.

A few words from Langston Hughes

Joey Jones6 Comments

What was your favourite subject in school?

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when they go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

Dreams by Langston Hughes 1901~1967

DP @ WP….English was my favourite subject in school…by a country mile.


A few words from Robert Frost

Joey Jones2 Comments

(A hijacking of today’s DP)

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, 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 traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

By Robert Frost 1874~1963