Thought for the Day

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POETRY IS A DESTRUCTIVE FORCE

That’s what misery is,
Nothing to have a heart.
It is to have or nothing.

It is a thing to have,
A lion, an ox in his breast,
To feel it breathing there.

Corazon, stout dog.
Young ox, bow-legged bear,
He tastes its blood, not spit.

He is like a man
In the body of a violent beast.
Its muscles are his own...

The lion sleeps in the sun.
Its nose is on its paws.
It can kill a man.
Wallace Stevens

The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart, Poems for Men. Robert Bly, James Hillman, and Michael Meade, Editors, 1992, page 166.

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THE UNKNOWN

I do not understand...
They bring so many, many flowers to me—
Rainbows of roses, wreaths from every land;
And hosts of solemn strangers come to see
My tomb here on these quiet, wooded heights.
My tomb here seems to be
One of the sights.

The low-voiced men, who speak
Of me quite fondly, call me “The Unknown”:
But now and then at dusk, Madonna-meek,
Bent, mournful mothers come to me alone
And whisper down-the flowers and grasses through-
Such names as “Jim” and “John” ...
I wish they knew

And ounce my sweetheart came.
She did not-nay, of course she could not-know,
But thought of me and crooned to me the name
She called me by-how many years ago?
A very special name. Her eyes were wet,
Yet glowing, flaming so...
She won’t forget.
E. O. Laughlin

The Best Loved Poems Of The American People, Selected By Hazel Felleman, 1936, pages 46-47.

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A BIRTHDAY WISH

I do not wish you joy without a sorrow,
Nor endless day without the healing dark,
Nor brilliant sun without the restful shadow,
Nor tides that never turns against your bark.
I wish you love, and strength, and faith, and wisdom,
Goods,gold enough to help some needy one.
I wish you songs, but also blessed silence,
And God’s sweet peace when every day is done.
Dorothy Nell McDonald

Poems That Touch The Heart, Compiled By A.L. Alexander, 1941, pages 42-43.