Cycles | Poem | Renee’ Drummond-Brown

Cycles

By: Author Renee’ Drummond-Brown

 

Momma told her not to do IT.

IT was done; she did not LISTEN

LISTEN to her, for what, and why, she too did it, AFTER-ALL?

AFTER-ALL, she had her at 16.

16, she, herself, should’ve been pristine CLEAN.

CLEAN as bleach on a summers CLOTHESLINE.

CLOTHESLINES, yeah, not soils hung out to DRY.

DRY stains. Tide can’t even get these out, nor CAN;

CAN a praise and/or SHOUT!

SHOUT it out!!! Should’ve been playin wit dolls, jacks and balls til 9:00.

NINE months to GO.

GO to jail…do not pass go til 18

EIGHTEEN-year BIDS.

BIDS her FAREWELL.

FAREWELL Momma says, “I told you so.”

 

Dedicated to: Recurrences

 

A RocDeeRay Poem

 

 

First Love Poem By Wislawa Szymborska

First Love – Poem by Wislawa Szymborska
They say

the first love is the most important.

That’s very romantic

but it’s not the case with me.

There was something between us yet there wasn’t.

It transpired and expired.

My hands don’t tremble,

when I stumble upon small mementos

or a stack of letters wrapped in twine

—not even a ribbon.

Our only meeting after all these years

is a conversation between two chairs

at a cold table.

Other loves

still breathe deeply within me.

This one lacks the breath to sigh.

But still, just the way it is,

it can do what the rest are not yet able to do:

unremembered

not even dreamt of

it accustoms me to death.

Translated by Joanna Trzeciak


Miracle Fair Poem By Wislawa Szymborska

Miracle Fair – Poem by Wislawa Szymborska
Commonplace miracle:

that so many commonplace miracles happen.

An ordinary miracle:

in the dead of night

the barking of invisible dogs.

One miracle out of many:

a small, airy cloud

yet it can block a large and heavy moon.

Several miracles in one:

an alder tree reflected in the water,

and that it’s backwards left to right

and that it grows there, crown down

and never reaches the bottom,

even though the water is shallow.

An everyday miracle:

winds weak to moderate

turning gusty in storms.

First among equal miracles:

cows are cows.

Second to none:

just this orchard

from just that seed.

A miracle without a cape and top hat:

scattering white doves.

A miracle, for what else could you call it:

today the sun rose at three-fourteen

and will set at eight-o-one.

A miracle, less surprising than it should be:

even though the hand has fewer than six fingers,

it still has more than four.

A miracle, just take a look around:

the world is everywhere.

An additional miracle, as everything is additional:

the unthinkable

is thinkable.


First Steps | A Poem of Beginnings

First Steps

First Steps

….and our first steps
where will they take us
each day is a birth
and we wobble and rise
where shall we walk?
To peace?
To war?
To an apocalypse
of our own making
from our guide book
some old fool in a cave
left for us
to wave into the air
the air of our end?
Take the first step,
Walk then, to the field and pick the flowers
pick the flowers and marvel
at their stolen moment
lay them on the graves of the
losers of the wars,
those who lie beneath the fields
of our strength
of our resolve
of our belief.

…painting and poem by Jackson

Poems By Wislawa Szymborska

Poems by Wislawa Szymborska
Poetry Wislawa Symborska
Wislawa Szymborska Poetry Five poems by Wislawa Szymborska—– Amazon com Wislawa Szymborska Books Biography Blog—–Here by Wislawa Szymborska Paperback Barnes and amp Noble—– Wislawa Szymborska Poet Academy of American Poets—– Wislawa Szymborska Wislawa Szymborska Poems Poem Hunter—– Wis?awa Szymborska Wikipedia—–