Poem of the Week

March 29, 2012 #678

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poem of the week is a psychological 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

I NEED TO TALK TO YOU

PARENTS:

I need to talk to you, my dear,
Of many, many things:
Of what I wish and what I dream
And what my silence sings;

Of all the things I want for you
And all the things I fear,
And all the things I try to say
But never can make clear.

I wish that you could know me, yet
I'm glad that you do not.
Sometimes I see in you the unformed
Person I forgot.

I wish I could protect you
From all that conquered me,
And make of you a mirror of
The self I could not be.

CHILDREN:

I need to talk to you, right now!
I've got a lot to say
About the way you handle me
And why I act this way.

I know you love me, though sometimes
Your anger's all I see.
But if I do just what you want,
Then I'll be you, not me.

I need to get you off my back
And also have you near.
I need to learn the limits of
My courage and my fear.

I need to ramble on my own
And sometimes, yes, get lost,
And touch the heart of ecstasy
Regardless of the cost.

GRANDPARENTS:

I need to talk to all of you,
I am so much alone.
I hope that you can spare for me
Five minutes on the phone.

My life was once so full of life,
So packed with toil and love.
Now it's full of memories
That dance but do not move.

You do not know me really now --
To you I'm mainly old,
Befuddled, frail, incompetent,
A child you have to scold.

But inside I'm still mainly me,
The one who made you, you,
Now a husk without a seed
And little left to do.

ALL:

I need to talk to you, I need
All of you to know
The me I think of as myself,
The me I rarely show.

By those I love the most, I find
That I'm most often seen
Through acts I would undo and words
I do not really mean.

I need to tell you everything
That bursts within my heart,
Simply, just the way it is,
With neither craft nor art.

I need you all to see me
With love and sympathy,
And so I need to talk to you --
You need to talk to me?

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 22, 2012 #677

Dear Subscriber:

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

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

Spring surprises us, no matter how
Prepared we are to revel in its bloom,
Returning far too late yet far too soon,
Instantly from bud to blossoming bough.
Nor does it wait for us to take it in,
Gone to green before it well has been.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 15, 2012 #676

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

Some would satisfy their utmost longings,
Always reaching for what lies beyond.
I know well the soul has no belongings,
Neither short-term lease nor long-term bond.
Though I long for You, I know You're with me.
Peace comes through delivery from desire.
All Your love for all burns right through me.
There is nothing left that I require.
Rich in faith, I can be poor in fashion,
Intending but to be Your instrument.
Called to this green land, I preach Your passion.
Kings come to me through You, their crowned heads bent.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 8, 2012 #675

Dear Subscriber:

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

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

“Purim” means “lots,” which wicked Haman drew,
Understanding thus the gods would choose,
Regarding when to massacre the Jews,
Ignorant of whose intent was whose,
More God's lot than any lot he threw.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

March 1, 2012 #674

Dear Subscriber:

This week’s poems of the week are a modified form of sijo.

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

Yours,

Nick Gordon

SIX MODIFIED SIJO

1. The air is sheer perfume! At last it's spring!
Roses bloom late, after the azaleas.
Already, with regret, I fear the fall.

2. There is no substance to my listless longing.
I hunger to be one with One, and yet
I am afraid, I am afraid of death.

3. The little ivy stretches towards the light.
It spills out sunward like a waterfall.
I turn it, turn it, shape it to my liking.

4. The red brick house is buried in azaleas.
The second floor just peeks above the blossoms.
Inside I hear an angry couple screaming.

5. The empty lot is claimed by wildflowers.
The owner waits for prices to recover.
A thunderstorm must finally drive me home.

6. I love to go to Sunday open houses,
Imagining the lives that wait within.
However, I am granted only one.

© by Nicholas Gordon

Poem of the Week

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

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