Poetry for April 24

Poetry for April 24, 2007

Willits Choice:

124

Yf my deare love were but the child of state,

It might for for fortunes basterd be unfathered,

As subject to times love, or to times hate,

Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered,

No it was buylded far from accident,

It suffers not in smilinge pomp, nor falls

Under the blow of thralled discontent,

Whereto th’inviting time our fashion calls:

It feares not policy that Hereticke,

Which workes on leases of short numbred howers,

But all alone stands hugely politick,

That it nor growes with heat, nor drownes with showers.

To this I witness call the foles of time,

Which die for goodness, who have liv’d for crime.

William Shakespeare, 1609

Ukiah’s Choice

Two by Alice Walker

Dead Men Love War

Dead men

Love war

They sit

Astride

The icy bones

Of

Their

Slaughtered horses.

Grinning.

They wind

Their

Pacemakers

Especially

Tight

&

Like Napoleon

Favor

Green velvet

Dressing

Gowns

On the

Battle

Field.

They sit

In board

Rooms

Dreaming of

A profit

That

Outlives

Death.

Dead men

Love war

They like to

Anticipate

Receptions

& balls

To which

They will bring

Their loathsome

Daughters

Desolation & decay

They like

To fantasize

About

The rare vintage

Of blood

To be served

&

How much company

They are going

To have.

Despite the Hunger

Despite

the hunger

we cannot

possess

more

than

this:

Peace

in a garden

of

our own.