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Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Punctuation

If I could be any mark of punctuation…
I would like to be a comma,
To me, periods are too abrupt.
And exclamation marks are too flashy!!!!
Semi-colons are too technical;
And dashes are too – drawn – out –
But a comma is nice,
It’s a brief pause,
A chance to rest in between ideas,
And that is how I think I would like my life described,
[This isn’t the first “poem” I ever wrote, but it was the first I added to this blog site.  You can find it – and more – linked from the “Poems” tab at the top.  Please leave a comment if you happen to enjoy any of them.  —  KMAB]
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On This Day In:
2017 The Few, The Many, The Most
2016 To My Brother
2015 For Junior
A Roman Rome
2014 Hmmm
2013 What’s A Motto With You?
2012 Worthy Companions
2011 Bourne Again
Which Ten Are You In?
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Hold fast to dreams,
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird,
That cannot fly.
   ―  Langston Hughes
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On This Day In:
2017 The Only Real Security
2016 Time Said
2015 If Only Common Sense Were More Common
2014 PTI
2013 What Now, Then?
2012 Big C, Little B
Duty, Honor, Country

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[This post is a 2-fer…  A poem and an editorial (below the poem).  Merry Christmas to all.  Be safe…  —  KMAB]
‘Twas The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!
  —  Written by:  Clement Clarke Moore
DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O’HANLON
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong.  They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age.  They do not believe except they see.  They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds.  All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little.  In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.  Alas!  how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.  It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS.  There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.  We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight.  The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus!  You might as well not believe in fairies!  You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove?  Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus.  The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see.  Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there.  Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart.  Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.  Is it all real?  Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus!  Thank God!  he lives, and he lives forever.  A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
New York’s Sun Editorial Response
Sept. 21, 1897
Although the original editorial was unsigned, the response was written by veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church.
[Thanks for reading all the way to the end.  Again, Merry Christmas to All!!  —  KMAB]
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2015 What Are You Looking At?
2014 Ite, Missa Est
2013 I Hear Voices
2012 Positive Thoughts
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2011 Look! Up In The Sky…
Humility Before The Unknowable

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Time Is…

Time is…
Too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love,
Time is…
Eternity.
Days fly,
Flowers die,
Pass by…
Love Stays.
—  written by:  Henry Van Dyke
[Apologies to the author.  This is actually a quote, but I liked it better reformatted as a poem.  —  KMAB]
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On This Day In:
2016 The Cornerstone Pays
2015 Would That This Be True
2014 More Likely
2013 Enjoyed The Desolation
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2012 Speaking Of Products
2011 Ready To Be Immortal?

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Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
  —  written by:  Joyce Kilmer
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On This Day In:
2016 Unconquerable Imagination
2015 Just Plain Wrong
2014 Finding Beliefs
2013 Pretty Confident
2012 Effective Ranges
2011 Three Wisdoms
2010 I’m Just Askin’…
Space & Time

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See a shadow for what it is.
 Not the absence of light but light living out
 Its properties to bend around some form
 The way doubt gives way to prove a point
 And become known to all who participate
 There was an honest man.
excerpt from the poem “How Will I…?
[Found at one of the sites I follow:  A Mirror Obscura
The specific post is located at:  http://kabryce.wordpress.com/2015/09/19/how-will-i/
Please visit if you have a few minutes to spare…   —  KMAB]
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On This Day In:
2016 Still Blurry
2015 For Awhile Anyway
2014 By Contrast
2013 A Very Long Time…
2012 Raise And Support
2011 Naturally
2010 A Quick Sunday Morning Read
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To live in the hearts we leave behind is to live forever.
   ―  Carl Sagan
[This quote was found at one of the blogs I follow: http://ididnthavemyglasseson.com/
The specific post is located at:   http://ididnthavemyglasseson.com/2017/03/02/valhalla/
Well worth a visit…   KMAB]

My Children

It is not how much I have gathered
Through my honest work or even greed
In the end possessions won’t matter
But what flowers from each planted seed
I wanted them to have all my heart
And leave no part of my love unused
Give them an easier place to start
Let them find their own dreams to pursue
I wonder will they remember well
The lessons that I have tried to teach
Those things that I tried to gently tell
To show that hope is within their reach
To show them not to stand on the stage
Instead intermingle with the crowd
Always have the want to turn the page
Be the one of whom they could be proud
They’re the footprints that I leave behind
They will be my only legacy
They will be the story brought to mind
When my grandchildren remember me
[This poem was found at one of the blogs I follow:  https://thebackyardpoet.com/
The specific location for the post is:   https://thebackyardpoet.com/2017/10/06/my-children/
Another site well worth visiting (if you have the time)…  —  KMAB
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On This Day In:
2016 Tremendous Energy
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2015 Tell Me…
2014 Live Forever (To Remember Me)
Orange October (VI) – Giants Win Game 4
2013 More Than Just Words
2012 Egotist, n.
2011 Good And Bad

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