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Literature Text
One, two, three, four
Hear the coming uproar
March! (two, three, four)
See the mighty downpour.
Weapons out, banners bright
Every shape, hue, height;
Rain barrage and passing spray
Remember this Umbrella Day!
And yet! (two, three, four)
This is anything but war
Hup! (two, three, four)
This is earth and sky rapport.
Waterfalls from building tops
Ripple-watching, puddle-hops
Heavy awnings, glowing shops
... But we're all glad when it stops.
Hear the coming uproar
March! (two, three, four)
See the mighty downpour.
Weapons out, banners bright
Every shape, hue, height;
Rain barrage and passing spray
Remember this Umbrella Day!
And yet! (two, three, four)
This is anything but war
Hup! (two, three, four)
This is earth and sky rapport.
Waterfalls from building tops
Ripple-watching, puddle-hops
Heavy awnings, glowing shops
... But we're all glad when it stops.
Literature
For --
Bloom, bloom, bloom,
by the window, by the sun,
by the cooling shade of soft green cedar,
bloom, bloom, bloom.
When the chrysanthemums baldly raises
its heavy head to the dim-lit skies,
or cicadas shrill in train-speed rhythm
buzz and rest their wings on your shivering thighs
do not fear the world, the strangeness of Nature,
do not flip your pale small eyelids and waver.
Whenever burly oaks grow, wild-strong branches wide,
and benign barley bend and bow in a smile;
No - this too high; No - this too low,
Bloom, bloom, bloom.
Literature
The Guide
For a minute there I thought I
was at the wrong house. Then you tried
to fetch your toast with a fork, while
it was plugged in. Now the tile
floor is scuffed up and you're all fried.
Makes my job easy. Oh don't try
to plead or beg. This is your time
to follow me, no need to lie
for a minute
or an hour. Whichever kind
of bargain you have isn't my
problem. My job is to file
your soul for future trial.
Though, I guess, I'll let you cry
for a minute.
Literature
continual wandering
i'm going 80 on i-80 until i see the sun behind me
leaving the glow of
skylines and streetlights far behind
moving west towards the iowa sky
there's a stretch of the west coast
my feet have yet to roam
and it's been years since
i've filled my lungs
with pacific air
there's a cloud over i-5
passing through portland
a peaceful grey sky awaits me
i'm miles from my bed
but i've never been more awake
the ocean whips waves
in my direction
the pacific spray
rejuvenates me
i feel as young as i did
the first time around
i'm looking at the moon
from a different angle
this may not be home
but in this moment
it feels pretty damn close
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I've been on campus all day and oh-so-wet, but it's not so bad. 
© 2017 - 2024 Emily-Byrd
Comments24
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I'm glad when it begins! 