poetry friday roundup is here!

“The bluebird carries the sky on his back.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

WELCOME TO POETRY FRIDAY AT ALPHABET SOUP!

Please help yourself to warm blueberry muffins and green tea. 🙂

Something I look forward to every Spring is spying that first flash of blue alighting on a bare branch outside my window. Bluebird!

If the sun’s out, the bluebird’s feathers dazzle. He must know how handsome he is. Before the trees have budded, this show of color offers hope and such joy. It’s amazing how just one little bird in a natty blue coat can transform a landscape.

The bluebird has been considered a harbinger of happiness by many world cultures for thousands of years. On this Mother’s Day weekend, here are bluebird poems by Emily Dickinson and Mary Oliver. I love the shared delight of these two poets, born 105 years apart.

Wishing you the gift of sweet birdsong amid the din, a spot of beauty to light the way, and many happy moments.

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by Deidre Wicks

 

THE BLUEBIRD
by Emily Dickinson

Before you thought of spring,
Except as a surmise,
You see, God bless his suddenness,
A fellow in the skies
Of independent hues,
A little weather-worn,
Inspiriting habiliments
Of indigo and brown.

With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his seraphic self!

(1896)

 

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by Suren Nursisyen

 

WHAT GORGEOUS THING
by Mary Oliver

I do not know what gorgeous thing
the bluebird keeps saying,
his voice easing out of his throat,
beak, body into the pink air
of the early morning. I like it
whatever it is. Sometimes
it seems the only thing in the world
that is without dark thoughts.
Sometimes it seems the only thing
in the world that is without
questions that can’t and probably
never will be answered, the
only thing that is entirely content
with the pink, then clear white
morning and, gratefully, says so.

~ from Blue Horses (Penguin Press, 2014)

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Now, please leave your links with the dashing Mr. Linky below. I hope you enjoy flitting from blog to blog, sampling all the poetry goodness laid out for the taking. Thank you for joining us this week!

 

 

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by EO Prints

 

“A man’s interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

 

DON’T FORGET TO THINK BLUE.

🐦 HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!! 🦋


*This post contains an Amazon Affiliate link. When you purchase something using a link on this blog, Jama’s Alphabet Soup receives a small referral fee (at no cost to you). Thank you for your continuing support!

**Copyright © 2018 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.

poetry friday roundup is here!

Happy May, and Welcome to Poetry Friday at Alphabet Soup!

So, a new month, the month of flowers and strawberries and Mother’s Day (sigh). Tell me, on the first of May, did you wash your face with morning dew to maintain your youthful appearance? Will you scamper through the meadows wild with a garland of blossoms in your hair?

And are you smiling right now? In the UK, May is National Smile Month. Sounds good to me (call me Cheshire Cat). 🙂

I think a good way to celebrate this new month is with a Mary Oliver poem. We’ve talked before about the importance of art, beauty, and gratitude. Whether you write or draw, it all begins with careful observation, being fully present, and as Oliver says, “learning to be astonished.” What is your message?

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photo by Julie White

MESSENGER
by Mary Oliver

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird —
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.

~ from Thirst: Poems (Beacon Press, 2007)

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Though this poem is the perfect writer’s credo, this “job” of rejoicing in the wonders of the natural world is a worthy one for all human beings. In this way we become stewards of this fragile earth. In this way we are all poets. 🙂

I’m anxious to see what you’re sharing this week, so please leave your links with the amiable Mr. Linky below. Do help yourself to a little light refreshment to bolster you on your travels from blog to blog. 🙂

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🎈 KEEP A POCKET IN YOUR POEM GIVEAWAY WINNER! 🎉

Happy to announce that the winner of a brand new copy of Keep a Pocket in Your Poem by J. Patrick Lewis and Johanna Wright is:

TANITA S. DAVIS!!

WOO HOO!

Congratulations, Tanita!!

Please send along your snail mail address so we can get the book shipped out to you pronto.

Thanks, everyone, for entering the giveaway. 🙂

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Thanks so much for joining us today!!

🌺 HAPPY WEEKEND TO YOU! 🍓


Copyright © 2017 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.

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good friday feast: a mary oliver good morning with baked french toast

“It is Spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” ~ Rilke

 

Good morning, Poetry Friends, and Happy Spring!

More than a few rabbits have invaded the Alphabet Soup kitchen but we don’t mind in the least. Thought we’d ease into Easter Weekend by serving up an iconic Mary Oliver poem and some delicious baked french toast.

In this season of renewal, growth, and fresh starts, it’s good to remind ourselves that something wonderful may be waiting for us just over the horizon. As someone once said, “you can’t turn back the clock, but you can wind it up again.”

So let’s toast this new morning, this new day, with all the positive energy we can muster up and nourish ourselves with food for the mind, heart, body, and spirit.

Remember: we can be the light.

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friday feast: celebrating mary oliver’s “poppies”

“Oh Lord, how shining and festive is your gift to us, if we only look, and see.”  ~ Mary Oliver (“Look and See”, Why I Wake Early)

poppy field
photo by vgtortoise

What do you see when you look out your window?

Thank goodness for Mary Oliver when you need a good share of hope, a reminder to turn your face to the light. Poppies speak of many things, in general, the imagination — but yellow stands for wealth and success, red for pleasure, white for peace. Enjoy Oliver’s “invitation to happiness” and this photo bouquet of color, beauty, joy, remembrance. Bask in the light of her words and shine on. 🙂

orange poppy
photo by mamavenezia

POPPIES
by Mary Oliver

The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn’t a place
in this world that doesn’t

sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage

shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,

when it’s done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold,
I am washed and washed
in the river
of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do—
what can you do
about it—
deep, blue night?

~ from New and Selected Poems, Vol. I (Beacon Press, 1993)

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2012 poetry potluck giveaway winner and one last poem

Cornelius with the new official Alphabet Soup cookie: Oatmeal Jama Bars.

Cornelius and I can’t and don’t want to believe the 2012 Alphabet Soup Poetry Potluck is over. *sniff sniff*

Could it be May already? How time flies when you’re nibbling on good poetry and noshing to the nines!

Oh, what a feast we had — scaling mountains, “borrowing” a mail truck, visiting Cuba, playing with pirates, going to camp. We spiced things up with hot chili, jambalaya and a spooky brew, and even celebrated Passover together. And how about all those wonderful personal stories — grandmas who baked bread, cookies, biscuits and pies? What could be better than a group of fun-loving poets sharing good memories and bits of family history we could all relate to?

Food is the great equalizer, allowing us to reach back in time, adopt new customs and cultures, and bond with others in unique ways. I thoroughly enjoyed all the poems and learning a wee bit more about each of the poets — the journalist in me always craves those wonderful backstories and I thank everyone for digging up those vintage photos and giving us a peek into your private worlds.

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