July 7, 2013

B By Sara Kay

B By Sara Kay 

If I should have a daughter, instead of "Mom," she's gonna call me "Point B," because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand." And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry. So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming, I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried. "And, baby," I'll tell her, don't keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick; I've done it a million times. You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him." But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix. Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix.But that's what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything, if you let it. I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me. That there'll be days like this. ♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫ When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment. And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. You will put the wind in winsome, lose some. You will put the star in starting over, and over. And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life. And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. “Baby,” I’ll  tell her, “remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more." Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things. And always apologize when you've done something wrong, but don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

About --Sarah Kay
At a young age, Sarah started to write poetry; at 14, she started to visit the famous Bowery Poetry Club in Manhattan’s East Village. She performed and held her own against performers at least a decade her senior; now in her 20’s Kay is a successful spoken word poet and co-directs V.O.I.C.E ( Vocal Outreach Creative Expression) since 2004- this program encourages people, especially teenagers to use spoken word to implement their expression.
Her poem "B" has been turned into a hardcover book >> 

I found this poem or performance on TED Talk a segment called; Spoken-word fireworks (8 talks)

You can see Sarah's video here the other 7 talks can be watched on here . I love Ted Talk this venue is inspiring, thought-provoking and entertaining, I like to share it with you all; enjoy!

July 5, 2013

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April 18, 2013

Poem in Your Pocket Day

Today is Poem in Your Pocket Day


from The Holy Sonnets

Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town to another due,
Labor to admit you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lov'd fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
John Donne

Peace on Earth

The Archer is wake!
The Swan is flying!
Gold against blue
An Arrow is lying.
There is hunting in heaven—
Sleep safe till tomorrow.
The Bears are abroad!
The Eagle is screaming!
Gold against blue
Their eyes are gleaming!
Sleep safe till tomorrow.
The Sisters lie
With their arms intertwining;
Gold against blue
Their hair is shining!
The Serpent writhes!
Orion is listening!
Gold against blue
His sword is glistening!
There is hunting in heaven—
Sleep safe till tomorrow.
William Carlos Williams

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein


  by Laura Elizabeth Richards
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant—
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone—
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I've got it right.)
Howe'er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee—
(I fear I'd better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/22275#sthash.dZUkOWzZ.dpuf

February 17, 2013

Resolved Devotions

Resolved Devotions

By Marisa Bernhard

I punched the air and kicked the wind, demanding my wants.  Everything happens for a reason I am told. With clenched fists I face the world, is this how you see me? I am sorry that is wrong. I am humbled and ashamed the verity existed my prayer was answered. Gratitude I did proclaim, but acceptance was strictly denied.
I am in awe of your gift; an answered prayer devoted to me?
I understand how it works now, a gift received must be honored, graciously I said “Thank you …oh how kind.” Just like a Victorian princess serving tea!
At this time I stand here with open hands, and a full heart. I want you to see my joy. My happiness is hidden; protected not to be disturbed it hides behind fear.  My heart was broken into a million pieces, selfishly I must admit if not for one reason but for many things.
Your present I realize was meant to be – so often I ask do I deserve this. How can that be?
My heart screams out above all of Fears rants, “YES….believe, trust, it is so right!”
That is the truth; I cannot question it any longer, I will not! 
Fear will run amuck and create havoc to my emotions and yet I know my heart has a voice now since love settled in.
I survive by denying…. It is a battle of wills that I am learning to let go.
A prayer answered deserved its moment of respect – I hid it in a box with happiness, trust and love, these things should not be confined!   Yet, protected they need to be accepted and truly felt.

Thank you!

February 16, 2013

Pushing the Moon

Pushing the Moon

By Marisa Bernhard

I stood at the edge, my feet barely touching the ground. 
The moon rose in front of me huge and bright.
I saw it all for the first time…it was hard getting here no doubt.
A sad and crooked road led me to the moon.
If I touch it can I push it back to a happier time….how hard do I need to push?
I stood at the edge in front of the moon-
Everything became illuminated…I took it all in.
I knew in my heart, that we were all misplaced.
I and he traveled from the west, they traveled from the east.
Bright, round and full lit the way ….on common ground we met.
We all knew….

January 21, 2013

Their Secret Language

Their Secret Language

 By Marisa Bernhard

 They speak with smiles and laughter

 It resonates ubiquitously near me

 A trifecta unbroken committed to speak their words, beam their honesty, and utter their thoughts

 They clamor about with no disregard, rendering their expressions to one another but no other

 They are here; near always close by, my love for them will never die

 My demands are many I am aware; a labor of love in hopes that transcends….yes I am the outsider that is okay I listen and sigh….and happy some days

 My home filled with noise….a language of secrets that needs no rendition; it is understood they express what’s been hidden

 For so many years their words were unspoken, their smiles were unseen, their laughter forgotten, their souls were deflated, their wishes demanded.

 They remember the past they know what it’s like to speak of a language that cannot be converted with words, although understood with amusement and mirth.

 I stand on the sidelines and guard the three….
I listen and do understand because they are my family!!!!