Poems Rethabile Likes

Drink Your Tea by Thich Nhat Hanh | Poems Rethabile Likes Drink Your Tea by Thich Nhat Hanh Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future; Live the actual moment. Only this moment is life. Poet: @ThichNhatHanh Online: @PoetSeers Book(s): @PlumVillage Guidelines ☼ Archive ☼ Random Poem ☼ Privacy ☼ ...

Thanks by W.S. Merwin | Poems Rethabile Likes Thanks by W.S. Merwin Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow for the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water looking out in different directions. back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging after funerals we are saying thank you after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you looking up from tables we are saying thank you in a culture up to its chin in shame ...

My drought land by Kelwyn Sole | Poems Rethabile Likes My drought land by Kelwyn Sole In answer to Cavafy My drought land slumbered away peacefully, little changing, every winter. But the season's turned, we're told: and there is no more time for songs, or gleeful children, or heels scuffing the way they used to when we led each other into the dance. * * * For now crops planted by the invaders unsheathe their green knives  and unfamiliar leaves flaunt sharp edges into a wind that preaches unending rain  as if this were, for...

The Funeral by Donald Hall | Poems Rethabile Likes The Funeral by Donald Hall It is the box from which no jack will spring. Now close the box, but not until she kisses The crossed, large hands which she already misses For their caress, and on his hands the ring. Now close the box, if we close anything. She sees the wooden lid, and she dismisses At least a hundred thoughtful artifices That would enjoy the tears that they would bring. The coffin does not matter. It was one Like many in the row from which she chose it. Now to be closed in it, he must become Like all the other dead men, deaf and dumb, Blank to the...

The Harlem Dancer by Claude McKay | Poems Rethabile Likes The Harlem Dancer by Claude McKay Applauding youths laughed with young prostitutes And watched her perfect, half-clothed body sway; Her voice was like the sound of blended flutes Blown by black players upon a picnic day. She sang and danced on gracefully and calm, The light gauze hanging loose about her form; To me she seemed a proudly-swaying palm Grown lovelier for passing through a storm. Upon her swarthy neck black, shiny curls Profusely fell; and, tossing coins in praise, The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls, Devoured her with their eager, pa...