Friday Afternoon

A perfect Friday afternoon

The taste of asphalt on the tip of my tongue

Sun beating on tanning skin

Peals of laughter fills the air

Grass stains and pretty weeds

Clouds are picturesque in light blue

Life regresses to an easier time

Wondering on the next free day

-Kel Dayheart


Nine Muses

Of the nine have I not loved?

Lady Clio, have I not loved the past dear enough

That I have lost your favor?

Lady Urania, have I not admired the night sky enough

To have you smile upon me?

Lady Melpomene, have I not wrote enough sorrow

To have you not forsaken me?

Lady Thalia, have I not rang out with enough joy

For you to still find humor in me?

Lady Terpsichore, have I not moved gracefully enough

For you to continue to send your special rhythm?

Lady Calliope, have I not written enough tales

To please your epic appetite?

And of the nine, have I not loved you most dearly Lady Erato?

Lady Erato of love poetry, do I not admire you the most

And hope to win your delicate heart?

Muses nine do I not love thy as highly as a mere mortal could?

-Kel Dayheart

Happy Birthday T. S. Eliot!

S. Eliot is remembered as American- British poet, American by birth and British by choice. I honestly can’t say he’s one of my favorites; however, I do like his stance on poetry which he discusses in “The Music of Poetry”. He believes that meaning and style go hand-in-hand when writing a poem. Sometimes you don’t consciously understand a poem, but you can get feeling from it. As I stated, he’s not one of my favorites there is one poem of his that I like “Virginia”:

Red river, red river
Slow flow heat is silence
No will is still as a river
Still. Will heat move
Only through the mocking-bird
Heard once? Still hills
Wait. Gates wait. Purple trees
White trees, wait, wait,
Delay, decay. Living, living,
Never moving. Ever moving
Iron thoughts came with me
And go with me:
Red river, red river

T. S. Eliot

Happy Birthday Shel Silverstein!

I haven’t loved poetry my whole life but it’s a near thing. One of the first books I remember reading on my own was “The Missing  Piece Meets the Big O” by Silverstein. It wasn’t until later that I began to love his poetry. It’s humorous and whimsical, however many of his works taught valuable lessons. Since it’s his birthday I figured I’d share a favorite of mine. Masks: