Inspiration: Poems

“What the Living Do,” by Marie Howe

“What the Living Do,” by Marie Howe

Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there. And the Drano won't work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up waiting for the plumber I still haven't called. This is the everyday we spoke of. It's winter...

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Poem: “Pray for Peace,” by Ellen Bass

Poem: “Pray for Peace,” by Ellen Bass

Pray to whomever you kneel down to: Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross, his suffering face bent to kiss you, Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat, Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary that she may lay her palm on our brows, to Shekhina, Queen of...

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Poem: “Hymn,” a new poem by Sherman Alexie

Poem: “Hymn,” a new poem by Sherman Alexie

Why do we measure people's capacity To love by how well they love their progeny? That kind of love is easy. Encoded. Any lion can be devoted To its cubs. Any insect, be it prey Or predator, worships its own DNA. Like the wolf, elephant, bear, and bees, We humans are...

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Poem: “Do Not Be Ashamed,” by Wendell Berry

Poem: “Do Not Be Ashamed,” by Wendell Berry

You will be walking some night in the comfortable dark of your yard and suddenly a great light will shine round about you, and behind you will be a wall you never saw before. It will be clear to you suddenly that you were about to escape, and that you are guilty: you...

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Poem: “Sermons We See,” by Edgar A Guest

Poem: “Sermons We See,” by Edgar A Guest

I'd rather see a sermon Than hear one any day; I'd rather one should walk with me Than merely tell the way. The eye's a better pupil And more willing than the ear, Fine counsel is confusing, But example's always clear. And the best of all the preachers Are the men who...

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Poem: “Miracles,” by Walt Whitman

Poem: “Miracles,” by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under...

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Poem: “Smoke,” by Carl Sandburg

Poem: “Smoke,” by Carl Sandburg

I SIT in a chair and read the newspapers. Millions of men go to war, acres of them are buried, guns and ships broken, cities burned, villages sent up in smoke, and children where cows are killed off amid hoarse barbecues vanish like finger-rings of smoke in a north...

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Poem: “Democracy,” by Dorianne Laux

Poem: “Democracy,” by Dorianne Laux

When you’re cold—November, the streets icy and everyone you pass homeless, Goodwill coats and Hefty bags torn up to make ponchos— someone is always at the pay phone, hunched over the receiver spewing winter’s germs, swollen lipped, face chapped, making the last tired...

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Poem: “Crucified Earth,” by Kurt Vonnegut

Poem: “Crucified Earth,” by Kurt Vonnegut

The crucified planet Earth, should it find a voice and a sense of irony, might now well say of our abuse of it, 'Forgive them, Father, They know not what they do.' The irony would be that we know what we are doing. When the last living thing has died on account of us,...

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Poem: “The Man in the Moon,” by Billy Collins

Poem: “The Man in the Moon,” by Billy Collins

The Man In The Moon He used to frighten me in the nights of childhood, the wide adult face, enormous, stern, aloft I could not imagine such loneliness, such coldness But tonight as I drive home over these hilly roads I see him sinking behind stands of winter trees And...

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