Zena Holloway

“When every dream has turned to dust,
and your highest hopes no longer soar.

When places you once yearned to see,
grow further away on distant shores.

When every night you close your eyes,
and long inside for something more.

Remember this and only this,
if nothing else you can recall—

There was a life a girl once led,
where you were loved the most of all.”
~ Lang Leav, Lullabies

 

“..and the sunlight clasps the earth, 
and the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?” 

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, Love’s Philosophy

birds

 

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all…
– Emily Dickinson

No man is an island…

 

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee. – John Donne

 

(VisualPoetry, Alicia Eggert)

“No reason for a feverish rush
For we will all arrive in the same place
At the right time.”
Dejan Stojanovic

Tis morning, ’tis morning…

The mist has left the greening plain, 
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain, 
The coquette rose awakes again 
Her lovely self adorning.

The Wind is hiding in the trees, 
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, 
Until the rose says “Kiss me, please,” 
‘Tis morning, ’tis morning. – Paul Laurence Dunbar

love like a poet

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say goodbye; 
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

– Robert Frost

I might be driven to sell your love for peace…

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain
Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink
And rise and sink and rise and sink again
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone
Yet many a man is making friends with death
Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
I might be driven to sell your love for peace…” 

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Poems

What we’re reading today…

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what’s underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I’m the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
from its hanger like I’m choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too
and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,
it’ll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.”
~ Kim Addonizio