Poem of the day

[Deivis]

(Snatched it from Reddit)

Two old legs with creaking knees
Thumbs that crack, and lungs that wheeze
Arms that shake, and eyes that blur
Hands a ghost of what they were
Two old ears that strain to hear
Lips a shade of yesteryear
Dreams forgotten
Hopes on hold
One solution:
Don't get old..

 

[okyeah]

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's only me, and I walk alone
I walk this empty street
On the boulevard of broken dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one, and I walk alone
I walk alone, I walk alone
I walk alone and I walk a

 

[Mrs.O'Leary'sCow]

(War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Sara Teasdale, 1884 - 1933

 

[Floraknife]

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

(Neruda)