Category: poetry

Aston Villa FC and Emily Dickinson

Joey JonesLeave a comment

If you started a sports team, what would the colours and mascot be?

If it’s OK with you WP, I’ll simply stick with my original home team. Aston Villa FC. Claret & Blue. Hercules, the lion is the mascot.

..and guess what ? There is space on this page for the words of another. I know some of you are getting to love this poem as much as I already do.

Hope is a Thing with Feathers by Emily Dickinson ( 1830~1886)

“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.

AI says..The poem uses an extended metaphor comparing abstract hope to a resilient bird that lives in the soul, singing wordlessly but powerfully, sustaining humans through life’s harshest “storms” (gales, chillest land) without ever asking for anything in return, emphasizing hope’s innate, selfless, and persistent nature as a constant, free companion that offers comfort and strength.

and words by W.H.Davies

Joey Jones5 Comments

How have your political views changed over time?

What hasn’t changed is that I find inequality a bitter pill to swallow.

‘World’s top 1% own more wealth than 95% of humanity’ (Oxfam,Sept 2024)

And now WP, with a space left on the page, allow me to fill it with the words of another.

No apologies for posting this again and again,and anyway, I know lots of you love this poem

Leisure, by W.H.Davies (1871~1940)

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

A few words from Mary Walker

Joey Jones1 Comment

Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.

This DP leads me to a sadness I have no wish to relive today.

So, as I love to do when there is an empty page below, I will fill it with words of others…

By Mary Walker, a contemporary poet from New Zealand

Freed

It was when the sun broke through
and danced through every raindrop,
turning gloom into something transcendent,
that I wondered
what if all that’s hard
just washed away?

What if the light came down
and freed us all
from guilt, regret and second-guessing?
What would there be
except light shining through water,
and each of us dancing?

Come rain or shine

Joey Jones11 Comments

What are your favorite physical activities or exercises?

Walking my dog three times a day 🐾🐾

Once again, WP, I find that I have an empty page now, so I can fill it with words of another. My favourite poets are mostly from a time gone by, but today something different.

FEATHERS


Each morning I walk the valley
treading the same worn path,
though no bird flies over the same way twice,
the bees attend different flowers,
cicadas sing where yesterday there were none,
and the hawk is scanning new trees.


A feather lies in wait for me,
having fallen from the sky.
No feather will fall in quite the same way;
not in this spot, from that height,
to be caught between two heads of rye.


The land looks the same each day
but is different in a thousand small ways.
We wake thinking one day is much like another,
that we are still who we were the day before,
or we can let ourselves be changed.


We are as new as the world we see;
what looks familiar is not.
Notice what is happening, be the response to your day.
Be delighted, be surprised,
expect feathers.

By Mary Walker, a contemporary poet from New Zealand

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.