—Anonymous Photos
ENDLESS TIME
—Rabindranath Tagore
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.
—Rabindranath Tagore
Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.
Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.
Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.
We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.
And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.
At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.
TIME IS
—Henry Van Dyke
Time is
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
Too Long for those who Grieve,
Too Short for those who Rejoice;
But for those who Love,
Time is not.
SENTIMENTAL SHARK
—Robert William Service
Give me a cabin in the woods
Where not a human soul intrudes;
Where I can sit beside a stream
Beneath a balsam bough and beam,
And every morning see arise
The sun like bird of paradise;
Then go down to the creek and fish
A speckled trout for breakfast dish,
And fry it in an ember fire—
Ah! there's the life of my desire.
Alas! I'm tied to Wall Street where
They reckon me a millionaire,
And sometimes in a day alone
I gain a fortune o'er the 'phone.
Yet I to be a man was made,
And here I ply this sorry trade
Of Company manipulation,
Of selling short and stock inflation:
I whom God meant to rope a steer,
Fate made a Wall Street buccaneer.
Old Time, how I envy you
Who do the things I long to do.
Oh, I would swap you all my riches
To step into your buckskin britches.
Your ragged shirt and rugged health
I'd take in trade for all my wealth.
Then shorn of fortune you would see
How drunk with freedom I would be;
I'd kick so hard, I'd kick so high,
I'd kick the moon clean from the sky.
Aye, gold to me is less than brass,
And jewels mean no more than glass.
My gold is sunshine and my gems
The glint of dew on grassy stems . . .
Yet though I hate my guts it’s true
Time sorta makes you used to you;
And so I will not gripe too much
Because I have the Midas touch,
But doodle on my swivel chair,
Resigned to be a millionaire.
SONNET 19
—William Shakespeare
Devouring Time blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood,
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet'st,
And do whate'er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading sweets.
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen,
Him in thy course untainted do allow,
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
Yet do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,
My love shall in my verse ever live young.
I had no time to Hate
—Emily Dickinson
I had no time to Hate—
Because
The Grave would hinder Me—
And Life was not so
Ample I
Could finish—Enmity—
Nor had I time to Love—
But since
Some Industry must be—
The little Toil of Love—
I thought
Be large enough for Me—
Today’s LittleNip:
July 13, 1881
Garfield:
"Slept more and still am not rested"
In fact,
"I have not yet had a good and full night's rest"
from the day of the shooting until now
Guiteau:
"I presume
the President was a Christian,
and
he will be happier in paradise than here"
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
(from his long poem, "Eighty Days")
____________________
Our thanks to Michael Ceraolo for adding his voice to today’s unusual collection of poets and their musings about that old butcher, Time.
And Michelle Kunert has sent us a link to add to our Springtime: these are area birds that you might see in passing these days: www.sacramentoaudubon.org/gallery/photochecklist.html/.
Speaking of songbirds, our poetry readings in this area begin tonight at Sac. Poetry Center with a reading by Los Escritores del Nuevo Sol, 7:30pm. Then on Wednesday, Poetry-Off-the-Shelves meets in Placerville at the library on Fair Lane, 5-7pm.
Another library read-around takes place this Thursday at noon in Sacramento at the Central Library on I Street. Then at 8pm that evening, Dave Boles and D.R. Wagner read in Davis at John Natsoulas Gallery, 8pm (plus open mic).
Friday offers two readings: “Healer and Healed” at Sac. Poetry Center at 6pm, featuring Angela James, Charles Halsted and special guest Mary Zeppa. Then later that evening (7:30pm), The Other Voice in Davis presents Beth Suter and Linda Schiller (plus open mic) at the Unitarian Universalist Church.
And don’t forget the Poetry in Placerville offering on Sunday: Bob Stanley will read the work of Mike Owens (plus open mic) at Love Birds Coffee and Tea Co. on Broadway, 1-3pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
Busy week—and aren’t we lucky!
—Medusa
Celebrate time—and poetry!
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