[#RandomPoem 756]

Garment Workers’ Strike

Their fingers rested. Listlessly in the chairs
At all machines their bodies sagged with pain
In one ebb tide. Futility was theirs
[...]
At last they rested. With the work undone
They rose together, quelling even anger
In a fixed crusade and marching out as one
Exploited mass whose hands could work no longer.
A few were pregnant, each with life-starved eyes
Moved with the final strength of one who dies.

[Mary N.S. Whitely]

#poetry #poezie

[#RandomPoem 755]

Lullaby

It was written in the stars:
A child is born.
From that moment on,
I only had eyes for you.

What a diff’rence a day made.
Since I fell for you,
Zing! went the strings of my heart.

You’re so nice to come home to:
Make believe. Tea for two.
Magic moments.
I’m glad there is you.

[...]

You’re my everything.
What is there to say?
All I do is dream of you.
There is no greater love.

[Carole Boston Weatherford]

#poetry #poezie

'Wij alle zijn ijdele kinderen en streven
Omhoog met kracht van leden of zacht-
Vliedende gedachte.'

NINE VAN DER SCHAAF (1882-1973) #botd #29april

uit "Liederen', verschenen in "De Beweging", #1915, in #dbnl: https://www.dbnl.org/tekst/_bew001191501_01/_bew001191501_01_0090.php

@kbnationalebibliotheek #poëzie #gedicht

[#RandomPoem 731]

Dancing

Leaves fly away,
The tree stands still.
Will my dancing hands
Fly away from me too ?

[Judith Perlzweig]

#poetry #poezie

[#RandomPoem 754]

Watching My Mother

Beside the Ford Thunderbird,
a suitcase splayed open.
She collects her clothes
from the driveway.
The yellow jumper collapses
into a million threads of saffron.
She keeps dropping them.
They wither and dissolve,
petal by petal
into pavement.
Her hands are rivers.
Her eyes, mascara bats.
Her hair is crying.
I am five and perfect.

[Jessica Abughattas]

#poetry #poezie

[#RandomPoem 753]

Royalty

One fine morning, in the country of a very gentle people, a
magnificent man and woman were shouting in
the public square. “My friends, I want her to be
queen!” “I want to be queen!” She was laughing and trembling.
[...]

In fact they were regents for a whole morning as
crimson hangings were raised against the houses,
and for the whole afternoon, as they moved toward
groves of palm trees.

[Arthur Rimbaud]

#poetry #poezie