Poem of the Week

May 19, 2011 #634

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 and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Alistair exudes sophistication,
Leaning on his learning as though lame.
Intelligence in him is like a curtain,
Shutting off the windows to his heart.
There is with him no chance for conversation,
As though each point were counted in some game.
Intent on winning, prepped and always certain,
Rest assured he'll flaunt his range and art.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

May 12, 2011 #633

Dear Subscriber:

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

You can hear me read the poem and listen to the music for it at my site by going to http://www.poemsforfree.com and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Glad to see you've finally reached the end!
Remember: This is only the beginning.
Although at times you felt your wheels just spinning,
Days are worth precisely what you spend.
Ultimately, everything you learn
Adorns you with the beauty of its being,
Teaches you anew the thrill of seeing,
Invites you to be charmed at every turn,
Opening your mind and heart to things.
Nor would you know, except the knowledge sings.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

May 5, 2011 #632

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a poem for 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 and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Hinder not the happiness
Alive within the heart.
Perhaps it's only natural,
Perhaps it is an art.
Yet many rarely feel it,
Many do not know
Of the eternal music
That makes the moment flow.
How might one listen to it
Except to sing and dance,
Reveling in beauty
'Mid clarity and trance?
Singing to the mothers,
Dear vessels of the soul,
As Mary was to Jesus,
Yielding glory whole.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

April 28, 2011 #631

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a philosophical 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 and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Fortune is the child of will and chance.
In seeking cause, one finds a mute regression.
For some, life is an incandescent dance,
Though others tend to look at it askance,
Yearning for what's not in their possession.

Nor can one ever know what would have been.
In judging fortune, there is no reward.
Now is what one has to choose or spin,
Ever of one's will the sovereign lord.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

April 21, 2011 #630

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 and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Enduring does not lead to happiness.
A person ought not suffer out of duty.
Some choose to sacrifice under duress,
Taking as cruel chance what could be beauty.
Each ought to give for love, as did the Lord,
Reckoning the grace as the reward.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week Correction

Dear Subscriber:

Sorry! The last poem of the week had a typo in line 6. "What" should have been "that."

The correct version of the poem is as follows:

Perhaps a meal ought not bear so much weight.
A dining room is not a synagogue.
Sometimes, however, food's a pedagogue.
Sometimes one's best text is what one ate.
One finds in food the sense in many senses,
Vested in a symbol that will last.
Even as a people needs its past,
Ritual foods dismantle time's defenses.

Again, sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours,
Nick Gordon

Poem of the Week

April 14, 2011 #629

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 and clicking on "Poem of the Week."

You can post a comment on the poem or read other comments on it at http://nicholasgordon.blogspot.com.

Yours,

Nick Gordon

Perhaps a meal ought not bear so much weight.
A dining room is not a synagogue.
Sometimes, however, food's a pedagogue.
Sometimes one's best text is what one ate.
One finds in food the sense in many senses,
Vested in a symbol what will last.
Even as a people needs its past,
Ritual foods dismantle time's defenses.

© by Nicholas Gordon