Happiness Is Wholly in One's Power

December 26, 2013 #769

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for New Year’s Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Happiness is wholly in one's power
As one provides the chords to fit the tune,
Pleased to play sweet music by the hour,
Pleased to harmonize one's passing gloom.
Yet there are days demanding dissonance,
Needing harsh accompaniment to pain.
Embrace them, then, and give them resonance,
With brass enough to brighten a refrain.
Years are symphonies of varied mood,
Each sketched out by fate, filled in by you.
As the woodwinds dance, the basses brood,
Resolved in beauty – crafted, yes, but true.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLeU9VVDS4M.

Melodies of Christmas Wait All Year

December 19, 2013 #768

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a Christmas poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Melodies of Christmas wait all year,
Eager to renew their joyous song,
Ready to transmit infectious cheer,
Restive after resting all year long.
Yet when they finally fill the crisp, cold air,
Caroling across the crowded streets,
Harmonies one cannot help but share,
Resonant with rhymes the heart repeats,
Instantly, it seems, the season ends,
So soon the sounds of celebration fade.
The family gatherings and time with friends
Make way as cold, dark everydays invade.
Alas, the melodies' brief hour has fled!
Sleep well, sweet carols, through the year ahead.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/TP-LdXS1lW8.

Seasons Sing in Four-Part Harmony

December 12, 2013 #767

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a Seasons Greetings poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Seasons sing in four-part harmony,
Ending with a coda full of light,
A hymn to joy upon a long, cold night,
Shining like a candle annually.
Of course, they don't sing simultaneously,
Nor can one without love hear them aright,
Singing through the blessings and the blight,
Glad tidings joined imaginatively.
Rejoice, then, as the angels do, in music,
Even in your silence full of song.
Every season has its canticle
That fits into the glory of the whole.
Infinity is yours, if you would choose it,
Nestled into moments short and long,
Grace embedded in each miracle
Singing to the senses of the soul.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/oxm_VMRmaVc.

And These Are the Islands

December 5, 2013 #766

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the victims of Typhoon Haiyan.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

And these are the islands, tiny green drops
On the broad bright blue canvas of tropical seas.
And these are the great white wheels spinning like tops,

Swallowing mountains as the sea swallows rocks,
Swallowing churches and children and trees,
Swallowing islands like tiny green drops

With their warehouses, schoolhouses, dollhouses, shops,
With their dreams and intentions and sweet fantasies,
All smashed by the great white wheels spinning like tops

That gorge on the profits of energy stocks
And the fumes of our lust for convenience and ease,
Heedless of islands like tiny green drops

And the people who live on them tending their crops
Or working in offices, homes, factories,
Devoured by monsters spinning like tops

In a line of disasters no tragedy stops
Despite the raw poignance of powerless pleas …
And these are the islands, tiny green drops.
And these are the great white wheels spinning like tops.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/pskpL9Jv9pM.

Best Believe in Miracles

November 28, 2013 #765

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Hanukkah.

Best believe in miracles!
One need not be a fuelless flame,
Nor come to Earth as Jesus came,
Nor be unnatural, for we
Indeed all miracles must be,
Each of us unfathomable.

Some think we are fathomable,
Eliminating miracles,
Though that quite clearly cannot be,
Hosting, as we do, the flame,
Each on fire as dancing we
Like God's first light from darkness came.
Into life we lilting came,
Zestful, frail, unfathomable,
Amazed at everything, as we
Believed all things were miracles
Except what was – that inner flame
That must unfueled forever be,
Having lit all things that be.

Glad to come when we first came
Alight with the eternal flame,
Blessed with gifts unfathomable,
Rich in daily miracles,
Innately loving, longing, we
Embraced what seemed as real as we,
Lending life to all that be,
And all around were miracles.
Nor were we skeptics when we came,
Determined to be fathomable,
Knowing fuel accounts for flame,
Even so-called fuelless flame,
No longer needing faith as we,
Now fathoming the unfathomable,
Adult, aware, alone would be.

Even so, in love we came,
Living proof of miracles.
Like the miracle whose flame
Endured eight days, we kindled came,
Nor could be less unfathomable.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/OsfbM9fFSTA.

The Point Is What You Have, Not What You Don't

November 21, 2013 #764

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Thanksgiving.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

The point is what you have, not what you don't.
How can you be happy when you won't?
All of us at times are angry, sad,
Nervous, testy, thinking we've been had,
Knowing life for others turned out better,
Sure that in most dealings we're the debtor.
Granted, granted. But fortune is a choice
In which you find your music and your voice,
Vividly in tune with what you see
If you would live your life harmoniously.
None can choose acceptance without seeing
Gifts that come unsought from simply being.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/n-rvvcunRms.

How Lovely to Live as Marriage Intends

November 14, 2013 #763

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is an anniversary poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

How lovely to live
As marriage intends:
Partners in pleasure,
Passionate friends!
Years come and go;
The story goes on:
Work, will, and wonder,
Each day too soon gone.
None could know better
Truths that all know:
In well-tended joy
Each embraces the woe
That, shared, finds what solace
Hearts can bestow.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite this poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/lHmbgALLMh8.

Veterans Have Claims upon the Hearts

November 7, 2013 #762

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Veterans Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Veterans have claims upon the hearts
Even of those who railed against their wars.
The years of sacrifice transcend the cause,
Endured through agonies no word imparts.
Reason cannot comprehend such hell,
As strangers murder strangers out of duty.
Nor does the bleak, obscene, nightmarish beauty
Stop haunting dreams that love and rage compel.
Decency demands we do them honor,
Albeit with a hatred of the horror
Yet rampaging through joy, alive and well.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/l0L82l91jf8.

Brooms Inspire Restless Witches

October 31, 2013 #761

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Halloween.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Brooms inspire restless witches
Ready for their midnight rides,
Overcome by urgent itches
One indulges to survive.
Maybe you will see them soon
Shrieking as they cross the moon.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/kmdGahlM7ZU.

Retirement Is Not a Long Vacation

October 24, 2013 #760

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about retirement.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Retirement is not a long vacation,
Even though at times it may so seem.
The point now is the long-deferred vocation,
In which the work is free to serve the dream.
Retire well, then, as you long well labored,
Embracing well the job you took of need,
Making it a servitude well savored,
Enduring work with joy your heart decreed.
Now, though, you unburdened may pursue
The calling that you always thought was you.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/hMdWlfouqcE.

Often the Absence of Angels Seems Eerie

October 17, 2013 #759

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about angels, ethics, and religion.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Often the absence of angels seems eerie,
Offering glimpses of worlds without end,
Vistas of vistas so vast one gets weary,
A desert of light without phantom or friend.

How will we manage when angels are truly
A future forgotten, a past past recall?
How will we rule when the rules are unruly,
With nothing but null at the heart of it all?

It hasn't been long that the angels are gone,
That the world is a speck of a speck out in space,
That two spheres existed where now there is one --
Heaven the haven beyond time and place.

What will come after the choirs of angels
Are silent for centuries? What will we be?
There is in that silence a scream that estranges
The soul from what shadows the senses can see.

The thoughts of Copernicus were the beginning
Of something that still has just barely begun.
What souls will distinguish salvation from sinning
When humans at last say goodbye to the sun?

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/PJEA7eyTgss.

Even as You Sacrifice Yourself

October 10, 2013 #757

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Eid al-Adha, the Muslim Feast of the Sacrifice.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Even as you sacrifice yourself,
In love with love and gratified to give,
Dancing 'cross the ancient inner gulf
Athwart the plain on which each soul must live,
Long-borne burdens lighten into prayer,
Acts of worship meant as acts of care,
Done freely out of gratitude and grace,
Hard – yes, hard – and far more than your share,
And still a gift no pleasure can replace.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/qSDzdMWsiPw.

Instinct Is the Motion of Emotion

October 3, 2013 #757

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a psychological poem about instinct.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Instinct is the motion of emotion.
The agent of the action is the feeling.
On the land or in the air or ocean,
Creatures dance to what they find appealing.
Deep within the heart an ancient master
Guides us with intentions not our own,
Blind to individual disaster,
Seeking to preserve the eggs of stone.
O love, that lures us to the sacred ground
On which we dance the dances of desire,
And choose the fate the heart had long since found,
Doing what the ancient rites require:
Long may you rule where reason seeks to reign,
And move us to survive through joy and pain.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/Y036PsnylNA.

Social Workers Put a Human Face

September 26, 2013 #756

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about social workers.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Social workers put a human face
On bureaucracy, a smile on the machine.
Client-centered, they navigate between
Interests in a very narrow space.
All that they can do will rarely do,
Life and budgets being what they are.
Will and knowledge only go so far.
One pushes hope, but must push paper, too.
Roles come with scripts that well-trained players read,
Knowing both the function and the need.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at  http://youtu.be/0qJid1qioZg.

What a Life the Artist Lives Within

September 19, 2013 #755

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a philosophical poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

What a life the artist lives within!
Eden's innocence not left behind!
Ecstasy is everyday, and love
Is just one's ordinary state of mind.

Without, life still exacts its toll of pain.
Hunger is the engine of the will.
One commutes between despair and hope,
Even in the best times fearing ill.

Within, one dances to one's own sweet tune,
Elated with the beauty of one's art,
Walking in the gloom of midnight rain,
Singing in the sunshine of the heart.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/lOKEXTSAELc.

You Find but Little Solace in Success

September 12, 2013 #754

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

You find but little solace in success,
On which you long have hung your self-esteem.
Maybe you expected happiness,
Knowing how the self-important seem.
Instead, you feel a gnawing at the heart,
Perhaps because you know where you've gone wrong,
Purporting to be whole when you are part,
Unable yet to simply sing along,
Restored to worship by the grace of song.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/rPpG2SmHvoQ.

Reason Says, of Course, that There's No Book

September 5, 2013 #753

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Reason says, of course, that there's no Book
Of Life in which one is, or not, inscribed.
Still, repentance can affect one's fate.
How well one loves, or not, can still reshape
How well the year turns out. The soul revived
Attends to what the wayward soul forsook.
So does the myth remake the everyday,
Holding out the hope that fervent prayer
Actually might make someone's fortune better.
Nor ought one judge the legend by the letter,
As what is writ enriches what is there,
Having set forth well both will and way.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/qpFVTaF9aH4.

Labor Is Identity

August 29, 2013 #752

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Labor Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Labor is identity
As one is what one does.
Beware the work that will not sculpt
One into what one would.
Remember well the bunko bees,
Defined by work that is
Awash in ugliness and guilt,
Yielding little good.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/QhzcumHl0jI.

Sing of Who and Where and What You Are

August 22, 2013 #751

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a birthday number poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Sing of who and where and what you are
In celebration of your day of birth!
X marks the moment you came into being,
The start of your identity on Earth.
Yet one still yearns to see beyond the bar.

The mystery is never more or less.
Here must be a miracle, and now;
Reality's a miracle, and seeing
Each moment come and go, as years allow,
Even as you sing, and being bless!

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/7qAFeLVMWOg.

Agatha

August 15, 2013 #750

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a name poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Agatha is plain, old-fashioned good --
Giving, caring, loving, generous, kind.
A person doesn't get that way by chance,
Though much can be explained by circumstance.
Her will remains the servant of her mind
As she molds what character she would.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu be/Nkse9uVGx8I.

Each Fast Is like a Cleansing of the Soul

August 8, 2013 #749

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Eid al-Fitr.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Each fast is like a cleansing of the soul
In which one's thoughts are purified by prayer,
Deepened by connection to the whole
As one becomes somehow more simply there.
Leaving the sweet holiday behind,
Families feast to bid it fond farewell.
If Ramadan rewards the heart and mind,
The feast rewards the long-neglected shell
Returning to the palace of the wind.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at  http://youtu.be/2kus4XznEFw.

What Can I Do to Keep You from Despair

August 1, 2013 #748

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about mental illness.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

What can I do to keep you from despair?
You turn from me with darkness in your heart.
It doesn't seem to matter that I'm there,

Or how much more or less I show I care
Once the suicidal drumbeats start.
What can I do to keep you from despair?

Life itself seems what you cannot bear
For reasons that no reasoning can chart.
It doesn't seem to matter that I'm there,

Or that I try to make each day seem fair
With all my passionate will and bumbling art.
What can I do to keep you from despair?

I try my best to love you well, and share
With you your pain, and take your part.
It doesn't seem to matter that I'm there.

There is a stranger who takes over where
There was a friend – loving, playful, smart.
What can I do to keep you from despair?
It doesn't seem to matter that I'm there.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/3bPqXnNsXHw .

Death Is a Deliverer

July 25, 2013 #747

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about death.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

From fierce and pointless pain,
From drugged-out days and nauseous nights
One would not see again;

From life whose only passion is
To free itself from life,
Eternally anesthetized,
Numb to need or knife;

From desperate dependence
And gross indignity,
Lying in the cesspool
Of one's own shit and pee;

From being a non-person
Whose person is abused,
Dethroned from even one's own brain,
Perpetually confused.

Yet though one would no longer be,
The instinct is not gone:
The heart and mind are all for death;
The body lingers on.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/ANJh18RKkQs .

I Love My Little Teddy Bear

July 18, 2013 #746

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for children.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

I love my little teddy bear.
I want to take him everywhere.
His arms are always open and
He has to sit, he cannot stand.

He's always smiling when we play
And says whatever I would say.
I take him by an arm or ear
Or leg, whichever one is near,
And carry him around with me,
And sit him down upon my knee,
Or hug him when I go to bed
And put my head beside his head.

He has a little rip inside
His armpit, which my mommy tried
To sew, but it keeps opening.
My mommy said my dad would bring
A new one home, but I said no,
I wanted this one, even though
He may be old, a little worn,
And delicate where he is torn.

I will be gentle with him, for
I would not want to tear him more.
Tell me, those who urge his end:
Would you throw away a friend?

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaOs9yVwX9Q .

Remember, Please, the Reason for Your Fasting

July 11, 2013 #745

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Ramadan.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Remember, please, the reason for your fasting.
A body ought to live beyond the body,
More focused on a life that's everlasting
As all that must be clothed and shod turns shoddy,
Disintegrating slowly into dust,
Amazed, despite well knowing that it must.
Nor is salvation simply for the asking.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/MErebJCbuEQ.

Then, There Was No Right to Eat

July 4, 2013 #744

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Independence Day (USA).

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Then, there was no right to eat, nor was health
A right, nor freedom for a slave. Native
Peoples were simply dispossessed, and wealth
Accrued to men only. The fierce and furtive
Cries for love, gay or straight, were smothered.
Non-human animals had no rights, nor children
Left to drunken fathers or brutal mothers.
Oh, yes, that government governed least, but no one
Could foresee the brood of rights sprung
From words that rang out across the western world
That summer day, rights now nearly won,
That long lay fearful in predawn silence curled.
The founders were wise, but to be true to them,
We must apply their words to now, not then.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/Mw-xZdCd7C8.

Happiness Is Half Real and Half Haunting

June 27, 2013 #743

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is an anniversary poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Happiness is half real and half haunting.
A moment is half passion and half dream.
Perhaps there is no richness without wanting.
Perhaps the things we yearn for only seem.
Yet there are things that over time accrue,
Enduring through integrity and will,
Implicit every day in what we do,
Grace that blooms in soil we turn and till.
How beautiful to celebrate in passing
The things that last, the loves that years prove true,
Happiness long lived yet longing still.

© by Nicholas Gordon

 Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/G3tgN_gRFnM.

Give a Little Thought to Years Gone By

June 20, 2013 #742

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a graduation poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Give a little thought to years gone by,
Remembering the time we spent together.
A moment, though long vanished, lasts forever,
Determining the tilt of every why.
Understand that nothing will be lost.
As we go, we also will remain,
Taking with us what we leave behind.
In each of us today a border's crossed,
Offering a past we will retain
Now that we'll be scattered to the wind.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem on YouTube at http://youtu.be/_cbLVgJQiwk.

Fathers Are Forever

June 13, 2013 #741

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Father’s Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Fathers are forever. Even death,
Although a distancing, does not divide
The child from the parent, nor does time,
However long, nor space, however wide.
Enduring beyond silence, beyond breath,
Resonant where hours cease to chime,
Some yearnings inconsolable abide.

© by Nicholas Gordon

You can watch me recite the poem at http://youtu.be/yj2DsL4CXZM.

Love Is the Spring from Which All Longing Flows

June 6, 2013 #740

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a wedding poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Love is the spring from which all longing flows.
Long may we long for what we have, for this
Is happiness, the bliss in wedded bliss,
Where married longing deepens as it slows.
How beautiful! The passion comes and goes
While love draws from the well of the abyss,
Watering well the seed of every kiss
As loves well tended soon take root and grow.
To love must be an everyday decision
Taken out of unrepented need,
The recognition of one's ceaseless longing.
The view depends on values more than vision,
The choice to let the choosing self recede,
Behind which lies revealed the grace of loving.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem at http://youtu.be/j24lZ6cOkJo .

The Roots of Hatred

May 30, 2013 #739

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about hatred.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

The roots of hatred run so deep
We drink their poison in our sleep.
Deep within or deep below,
The roots run deeper than we know.

Day and night, and night and day
We while the precious time away
Hating, writhing, seething, ranting,
All the while new hate seeds planting.

In the mind and in the heart,
In the whole and in each part,
The anger clenches flesh and soul,
Taking a titanic toll.

O love, the wind that winnows well
The hate that holds the heart in hell,
Come and kiss the urge to kill,
And storms abate, and tempests still.

Love comes alone to those who call,
And love themselves along with all,
Love the roots and love the tree,
And know that you are part of me;

And know that I am part of you,
And you become the things I do,
And what I hate is what I am,
Both hungry wolf and slaughtered lamb.

So do not hate the hate within,
But love the love, and love the sin,
Love the beast and love the prey,
For both one word of wonder say.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Watch me recite the poem at http://youtu.be/fEmoKh-sr2g.

Murder Ought Not Ever Be a Duty

May 23, 2013 #738

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Memorial Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Murder ought not ever be a duty,
Even though for soldiers it must be.
Maybe one is bound by love or beauty
Only after one is safe and free.
Remember, then, those who murdered for you,
Invading, burning, bombing in your name,
And those whose plain white tombstones are before you,
Long dead, with neither guilt nor pride nor shame.
Deep within the heart the cause of war,
Alive and well, assures us there’ll be more,
Yielding hatred, fear, revenge, and pain.

© by Nicholas Gordon

See me recite the poem at http://youtu.be/y2Eo7XvTYCA.

Happy Graduation

May 16, 2013 #737

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a graduation poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Happy graduation! For at last
A goal long sought has finally been achieved!
Praised be those who persevere, for they
Prepare the ground for gardens that will come,
Yielding fruit for many yet unborn!
Give back the gifts that else would bind you fast,
Returning to the wind what you've received.
A learner's not a storehouse but a way,
Doing what will ever be undone,
Undoing what was once so proudly worn.
All that you have labored for is past.
There is no longer knowledge long believed.
In truth, the truth is subject to decay,
Opening a world of wonders, one
Not cubbyholed or clipped, of mystery shorn.

© by Nicholas Gordon

See me read the poem at http://youtu.be/_QtCVgP_VwA.

Mothers Must Make Meaning Have More Meaning

May 9, 2013 #736

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a Mother’s Day poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Mothers must make meaning have more meaning,
Opening a window onto love.
The world begins with them, and so what they
Have in their hearts is what life has to say,
Even if the years quite different prove,
Reversing what, retained, might be redeeming,
Sense that would make sense of every day.

© by Nicholas Gordon

http://youtu.be/brAN8DD8_ME

Faith Is What One Cannot Know

May 2, 2013 #735

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about faith.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Faith is what one cannot know,
But one decides is true,
As though one looked out on a wall
And painted on a view.

One knows the provenance of one's
Belief, but truth is more
Than stating with some certainty
What stands outside one's door.

Truth has many voices
That speak to mind and heart
In many languages derived
From science, myth, or art.

Faith is just one inner voice
That sings in harmony
With what the mind can comprehend
And what the eye can see.

And if one feels God's presence where
No proof can find its way,
Yes, that is real, as real as grass,
And true in its own way.

© by Nicholas Gordon

How Can So Little Time Hold So Much Life

April 25, 2013 #734

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a third anniversary poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

How can so little time hold so much life?
All these changes in just three short years!
Praised be those who put aside their fears,
Pleased to live and love as man and wife.
Yet so much change without brings change within.
The person who once was no longer is.
Home is ours, no longer hers or his.
Infants demand more than one has been.
Rivers are much muddier than streams,
Deeper and more rich with life than dreams.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Endless Earths

April 18, 2013 #733

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Earth Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Endless Earths! An infinite number spins
Around their suns, full of lusty life,
Revolving islands, with ravenous creatures rife,
The untouched Edens waiting for our sins.
How might we treat them better than our own
Despoiled Earth, once a garden grove,
As, banished to the stars, we restless rove,
Yearning for a place that feels like home.

© by Nicholas Gordon

April 11, 2013 #732

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a name poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Afaf is chaste because she is kind,
Fenced off from lovers by the gates of her mind,
Awaiting the one who will be there for life,
For she would his gift be – an unopened wife.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Don't Return the Tennis Ball

April 4, 2013 #731

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about love.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Don't return the tennis ball –
Just let it skip away.
Remember, bickering's a game
That it takes two to play.

Let the anger dissipate
Like fog beneath the sun.
For at the end of lovers' wars,
One finds that no one's won.

Oh, yes, one cannot help sometimes
To let the fury flow
Like lava forced up from the earth
By pressure deep below.

But each should let the other rant
And rave till passions pall,
Then bend down politely to
Retrieve the tennis ball.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Even After Two Millennia

March 28, 2013 #730

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Easter.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html/.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Even after two millennia,
A restive world remembers your rebirth.
So must your tale so touch a grieving heart
That all the sins of those who take your part,
Each priest who preys and prays for all he's worth,
Render you no less a loving savior.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Palates Can Be Palettes of the Soul

March 21, 2013 #729

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Passover.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html/.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Palates can be palettes of the soul,
As tastes can paint a picture of the past.
So might ritual foods make memories last,
Summoning up fond fragments of the whole.
Of matzah, then, charoset, bitter herb,
Vivid harbingers of what has been,
Each Pesach sing, and with your tongue again
Recall the revelation that they serve.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Sing of Ireland, That Salad Bowl

March 14, 2013 #728

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for St. Patrick's Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html/.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Sing of Ireland, that salad bowl!
The greens are tossed with bits of yellow and brown.
Perhaps the tossing might make some folks frown,
Although the taste be tangy to the soul.
There is no past for which the bells don't toll,
Regardless how its ways are handed down.
In time its heroes, once of great renown,
Come faded to the fun house of the whole.
Know, then, that the Ireland of old
'Ere long will be what none alive remember,
Save for remnants treasured by a few.
Deep within the heartache that takes hold,
An ancient ecstasy becomes an ember,
Yielding over years to Irelands new.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Mothers Must Make Mornings Seem Worthwhile

March 7, 2013 #727

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Mothering Sunday (British Mother's Day).

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html/.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Mothers must make mornings seem worthwhile,
Offering a life of love and beauty.
The music in their hearts becomes the song
Humming in their children all life long,
Enduring legacy, exacting duty,
Requiring an honest inner smile
Sustained by love – well-tended, willed, and strong.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

February 28, 2013 #726

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a play on words.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

There has to be some tension in attention
And something supple in a supplication.
One finds little content in contention
And too few revels in a revelation.

An insight ought to mind and heart incite
And alter what one worships at one's altar.
At times one needs a rite to get things right,
But then could use a salter for one's psalter.

Sound advice can often come through sound,
And payment made in kind, when hearts are kind.
Found relations new relations found,
Would one not mind a playful turn of mind.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Borders Are Obscenities

February 21, 2013 #725

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about borders.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Borders are obscenities,
Barbed wire through the heart,
Guardians of amenities
Tearing us apart;

Scars across the living Earth,
Remnants of old wounds;
Bastions of good luck at birth;
Death among the dunes;

Walls to stop a surging sea,
Keeping back the tide
Of those of us who are not we
Yet would join us inside;

Fortresses of fortunes good
And prison camps of bad;
Boundaries of brotherhood
In mines and sensors clad;

Soon, we hope, to be just lines
Unnoticed as we pass
Some unobtrusive welcome signs
Half hidden in tall grass.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Vital Signs Include the Pulse of Love

February 14, 2013 #724

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Valentine's Day.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Vital signs include the pulse of love
As measured by the grace with which one lives.
Love maintains the spirit's health and gives
Each life a dignity that none need prove.
Nor need a lover need a lover of
The moment to enjoy what this day brings.
In every heart an unspent hope has wings,
Nestled in, but placed to make its move.
Embrace, then, what you cannot do without.
'Ere night the pulse of love should make you dance
So that your movement mirrors what you feel.
Dance with grace too beautiful to doubt,
Alive to the allurement of romance,
Yearning with a joy you can't conceal.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

February 7, 2013 #723

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the Chinese, or Lunar New Year (the Year of the Snake).

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

They also serve themselves who lie in wait,
However much they may be moved to strike.
Empty-headed fools do as they like,
Yielding the ill fortune they call fate.
Eventually, things fall into place
As patience reaps its ultimate reward.
Remember that the wise are rarely bored
Or restless as the game goes on apace.
For those who play it well, with subtlety,
Taking nothing as it might appear,
Having much desire and little fear,
Each moment is suspended ecstasy.
Success is sweetest when it is well earned,
Not snatched from some unmeditated wind.
All one loves may well be left behind,
Kindred of the heart or blood, not kind,
Each a lesson from which one has learned.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

January 31, 2013 #722

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about friendship.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Horses have friends, and cows, pigs, elephants.
Dogs have best buddies, and parrots, possums, ducks.

Eating alone in a public place can be embarrassing,
As though one's personal failure to connect was on view.

Perhaps we need listeners to make our thoughts real.
Perhaps we need another's warm space as a refuge.

A word of affection is like sunlight to a flower,
Opening it up to the scent-laden sky.

A friend is a mirror, without which we could not see ourselves.
A friend is a window, without which we could not see beyond ourselves.
A friend is a necessity, like food, or sleep, or home.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

January 24, 2013 #721

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem about death and grief.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

I do not wish to undermine your sorrow
Or blunt the healing power of your pain,
But there will be another day tomorrow,
And you will, yes, be happy once again.
Grief is music, sad but full of beauty,
Song of love that ought not last too long.
If it lasts, it turns into self-pity,
Which does both mourned and mourner grievous wrong.
Grief is just a shaft of mourning sunlight.
It is not all-consuming like the night.
Soon the clouds will burn away, and one light
Of love will shine, ubiquitous and bright.
Love is one, beyond all joy and grief.
Love is the tree, and each beloved the leaf.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

January 17, 2013 #720

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Meaning is a morning song,
A dawn, a dance of light.
Reason merely sings along
To get the lyrics right.
In what you know is what you are,
Not what you'll become.
Let not sight your vision bar,
Undone by what is done.
To love must be to hope, for love
Has far too much to lose.
Embrace the good you're wary of,
Refusing to refuse.
Knowledge is as knowledge does.
It so quickly turns to was.
Now is ever when
Grace will come again.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

January 10, 2013 #719

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is an anniversary poem.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Heaven is an ordinary day.
All the love there is, is in your hearts.
Perhaps the chatter jostles with the music
Pouring forth from angels on all sides.
Yet every moment sings with jubilation.

For you today's a day of celebration
In which you mark the joining of your lives.
Fortune comes to those who don't refuse it,
The self-served gift, despite one's fits and starts,
Heaven that succumbs, and serves, and stays.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

January 3, 2013 #718

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Epiphany.

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com/week.html .

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Every moment is a revelation
Placed behind the scrim of what one sees.
In every unremarkable sensation,
Poised to dance, some truth awaits a breeze.
How might one then step behind the veil,
Alive in ways one was not meant to live?
None can bear such beauty long, nor fail,
Yet yearning, to revere what grace might give.

© by Nicholas Gordon