February 23, 2012 #673
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Leap Year 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
Let the Earth catch up to us. We run
Each year a bit too fast, so we must wait,
Adjusting the dynamics to the date,
Pausing as the Earth spins round the sun.
Years do not line up with days, and so
Eventually summer would be spring.
A word serves just the thinker, not the thing.
Revolving Earth cares not what dates dates grow.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Poem of the Week
February 16, 2012 #672
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Mardi Gras.
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
Morning will be time enough for sleep.
A person needs to revel now and then,
Returning home from passion only when
Daylight makes the ecstasy look cheap.
In sensuality there is much sense,
Gift of gods assigned to procreation.
Revelry can lead to revelation
As one for once ignores the consequence,
Selfless in the sanctum of sensation.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Mardi Gras.
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
Morning will be time enough for sleep.
A person needs to revel now and then,
Returning home from passion only when
Daylight makes the ecstasy look cheap.
In sensuality there is much sense,
Gift of gods assigned to procreation.
Revelry can lead to revelation
As one for once ignores the consequence,
Selfless in the sanctum of sensation.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Labels:
acrostic poems,
acrostic poetry,
mardi gras,
psychology,
psycologlical
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Poem of the Week
February 9, 2012 #671
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
Verities are strangely often true.
A lifelong love needs words, as faith needs prayer.
Let me, then, retell my love for you,
Each word alive with what is always there.
Nowhere else can passion be at ease,
Temptation without fear of consequence,
Instinct whose sole purpose is to please,
Nakedness made safe by innocence.
Even in the midst of work and worry,
'Mid doubts and disappointments, I am sure,
Surviving through the avarice and hurry,
Decent and restrained, is something pure.
As I am yours, so I know you're mine.
You are my love, my joy, my valentine.
© by Nicholas Gordon
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
Verities are strangely often true.
A lifelong love needs words, as faith needs prayer.
Let me, then, retell my love for you,
Each word alive with what is always there.
Nowhere else can passion be at ease,
Temptation without fear of consequence,
Instinct whose sole purpose is to please,
Nakedness made safe by innocence.
Even in the midst of work and worry,
'Mid doubts and disappointments, I am sure,
Surviving through the avarice and hurry,
Decent and restrained, is something pure.
As I am yours, so I know you're mine.
You are my love, my joy, my valentine.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Poem of the Week
February 2, 2012 #670
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a love 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
Some would look for love when love is nigh,
Or fill their fantasies with love unreal,
Afraid to love, and thus afraid to feel,
Afraid to be entangled in a lie.
For love is a commitment that might tie
One to a choice one would, perhaps, repeal,
Leading to regrets one would conceal,
Since any time, it's true, one's love could die.
Simpler just to dream instead of be,
Since being is so hard, and dreaming easy,
Allowing one one's choices without choosing.
One cannot choose to love and still be free,
A gift of self that tends to make one queasy,
Not knowing what, by keeping, one is losing.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a love 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
Some would look for love when love is nigh,
Or fill their fantasies with love unreal,
Afraid to love, and thus afraid to feel,
Afraid to be entangled in a lie.
For love is a commitment that might tie
One to a choice one would, perhaps, repeal,
Leading to regrets one would conceal,
Since any time, it's true, one's love could die.
Simpler just to dream instead of be,
Since being is so hard, and dreaming easy,
Allowing one one's choices without choosing.
One cannot choose to love and still be free,
A gift of self that tends to make one queasy,
Not knowing what, by keeping, one is losing.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Labels:
love poems,
love poetry,
poems,
poems about love,
poetry,
sonnets
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Poem of the Week
January 26, 2012 #669
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Winter.
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
Winter wills white whispers into being,
Into frigid air white dancing death,
Needles that can take away one's breath,
Thick, soft flakes preventing one from fleeing,
Ending briefly in bright drifted hills,
Returning with the churning chaff that kills.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for Winter.
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
Winter wills white whispers into being,
Into frigid air white dancing death,
Needles that can take away one's breath,
Thick, soft flakes preventing one from fleeing,
Ending briefly in bright drifted hills,
Returning with the churning chaff that kills.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Labels:
acrostic poems,
acrostic poetry,
calendar poems,
calendar poetry,
seasons,
winter
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Poem of the Week
January 19, 2012 #668
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the Lunar (Chinese) New Year, the Year of the Water Dragon.
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 is no knowledge – only good opinion.
Happiness is not afraid of pain.
Each truth is limited to its dominion.
Years sweep away one's walls again, again.
Everyone knows better in their hearts,
Although their hearts know better than to know.
Reason is a razor's edge that parts
Objects from the fullness of their flow.
Fortune is a poor excuse for failure.
The only help one needs is what one gives.
Hard work and happiness extend one's tenure,
Ever more alive the more one lives.
Death is a prerequisite of time,
Revealing far more than it ever hides.
All is limitless, yet etched in lines,
Graven images of what abides.
One dragon, yes, can harmonize a song,
Needing only dreams to sing along.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Dear Subscriber:
This week’s poem of the week is a poem for the Lunar (Chinese) New Year, the Year of the Water Dragon.
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 is no knowledge – only good opinion.
Happiness is not afraid of pain.
Each truth is limited to its dominion.
Years sweep away one's walls again, again.
Everyone knows better in their hearts,
Although their hearts know better than to know.
Reason is a razor's edge that parts
Objects from the fullness of their flow.
Fortune is a poor excuse for failure.
The only help one needs is what one gives.
Hard work and happiness extend one's tenure,
Ever more alive the more one lives.
Death is a prerequisite of time,
Revealing far more than it ever hides.
All is limitless, yet etched in lines,
Graven images of what abides.
One dragon, yes, can harmonize a song,
Needing only dreams to sing along.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Poem of the Week
January 12, 2012 #667
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
Maybe it's a little strange that I
Am now the only one whose day of birth
Remains a holiday. I don't know why
That honor should be mine alone. My worth
Is certainly no more than Washington's,
Nor do I more than Lincoln days deserve.
Let me then suggest a change: Once
Unmoored from my name, let the holiday serve
To honor not the person but the cause,
Healing racial wounds, pursuing justice,
Examining the morals of our mores,
Revisiting the pain of prejudice.
Kings require homage; this king would
Instead be an occasion for remembrance:
Not of me, but of all who fought for good,
Giving “Freedom Day” its proper sense.
© by Nicholas Gordon
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
Maybe it's a little strange that I
Am now the only one whose day of birth
Remains a holiday. I don't know why
That honor should be mine alone. My worth
Is certainly no more than Washington's,
Nor do I more than Lincoln days deserve.
Let me then suggest a change: Once
Unmoored from my name, let the holiday serve
To honor not the person but the cause,
Healing racial wounds, pursuing justice,
Examining the morals of our mores,
Revisiting the pain of prejudice.
Kings require homage; this king would
Instead be an occasion for remembrance:
Not of me, but of all who fought for good,
Giving “Freedom Day” its proper sense.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)