I'm feeling a bit too tired to write something new about plainness today. But I'd like to paste in a poem called "Plain Things" I wrote some time ago:
Plain Things
The Sun Light at Dawn
Falling on Gray Pavement,
Old Houses,
New leaves, New Grass.
Raw peas pushed from the pod
With a thumb,
Snapping between the teeth,
Squirting juices in the mouth.
All raw fruits,
Blemished and pure
Sweet, tart, ripe,
Broken from their stems
By human hands.
A washed pane of glass
Passing Light
Between bright days
And this dark room.
A Bald head a gray beard.
A bare throat, no pearls.
A smile made of real teeth.
A human face like yours
With colors, flushes, pallors,
Expressions
Of its own.
- - - Rich Accetta-Evans (May 2002)
Labels: personal poem, plainness, simple poems
6 Comments:
I am always puppies over thy poetry. I often think of thy poem about rain falling on the city.
Thy Friend in the light, and friend in the city,
Lor
oh, wow, rich, this brings tears to my eyes and a glow to my heart. What a beautiful mind thee has. thanks for this.
amanda
Many thanks to Lorcan (aka Larry) and Amanda for their appreciative comments.
I just discovered 'Plain Things.' What a very beautiful poem!
Thank you, msc.
Nice post which bit too tired to write something new about plainness today. But I'd like in a poem called "Plain Things". Thanks a lot for posting this article.
Post a Comment
<< Home