Birthday Week: Poems

The first stanza of Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud;"

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o

BIRTHDAY LIGHTS BY CALEF BROWN

Light bulbs on a birthday cake.
What a difference that would make!
Plug it in and make a wish,
then relax and flip a switch!
No more smoke
or waxy mess
to bother any birthday guests.
But Grampa says,

@Tazzie

this is the recipe of life
said my mother
as she held me in her arms as i wept
think of those flowers you plant
in the garden each year
they will teach you
that people too
must wilt
fall
root
rise
in order to bloom ~ Rupi Kaur

@Tazzie

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

a body betrayed
a heart destroyed
a mind in confusion
and yet a woman
is capable of taking pain
and transforming it into triumph
― R.H. Sin

Today ~ Mary Oliver

Today I'm flying low and I'm

not saying a word

I'm letting all the voodoo's of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,

the bees in the garden rumbling a little,

the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten,

and so forth.

But I'm taking the day off,

quiet as a feather.

I hardly move though really I'm traveling

a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors

into the temple

@Tazzie

Another year has passed
A birthday for you is in store
May you find this coming year
Be one with lots of open doors.

Follow your dreams
Remember you can achieve
All that you dream
Whatever your mind can conceive

So this poems brings
wishes for you
in hopes that the coming year
is filled with things you love to do.

-Catherine Pulsifer

My all-time favorite. ❤

The Race

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failures face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A childrens race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasnt hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boys desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought My dad will be so proud.
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought hed win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and in the midst of the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldnt win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, Get up and win that race!
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit thats all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up, and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
Im hopeless as a runner now, I shouldnt try to race.

But through the laughing crowd, he searched and found his fathers face
with a steady look that said again, Get up and win that race!
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
If Im to gain those yards, he thought, Ive got to run real fast!
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
Theres no sense running anymore! Three strikes Im out! Why try?
Ive lost, so whats the use? he thought. Ill live with my disgrace.
But then he thought about his dad, who soon hed have to face.

Get up, an echo sounded low, you havent lost at all,
all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up! the echo urged him on, Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldnt quit.
So far behind the others now, the most hed ever been,
still, he gave it all he had and ran as he could win.
Three times hed fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.

They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in the last place,
the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
you would have thought hed won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad, he sadly said, I didnt do so well.
To me, you won, his father said. You rose each time you fell.

And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
another voice within me says, Get up and win that race!

attributed to Dr. D.H. "Dee" Groberg ❤

Lend a hand to one another
In the daily toil of life;
When we meet a weaker brother,
Let us help him in the strife.
There is none so rich but may,
In his turn, be forced to borrow;
And the poor man's lot to-day
May become our own to-morrow.

Lend a hand to one another:
When malicious tongues have thrown
Dark suspicion on your brother,
Be not prompt to cast a stone.
There is none so good but may
Run adrift in shame and sorrow.

Lend a hand to one another:
In the race for Honor's crown;
Should it fall upon your brother,
Let not envy tear it down.
Lend a hand to all, we pray,
In their sunshine or their sorrow;
And the prize they've won today
May become our own to-morrow.