Hope

Hope!

Hope is a bird 
With wonderful feathers 
Sits on the boughs of the soul 
And sings the song of how to be remain alive

It sings when the dream breaks
It sings when overturn the ships
You are at the bottom and
Far away is the beach
At that time it teaches you
How to ride from bottom to top
How to swim to reach to the beach
How to rebuild the broken wings of your dream

Then you get an energy inform of a wind in the tune
To be alive strongly better than before
And it will continue to sing till you want to listen.
By Abdul Wahab

April Shower

Children splash and shout in it;
Pretty flowers sprout in it;
Reservoirs revive in it;
Farmlands come alive in it;
Umbrella-makers cheer in it;
And taxis disappear in it.

-Gloria Lawrence in The Wall Street Journal
 "Toward More Picturesque Speech"
 Raeder's Digest April 1976

Election Day

Election Day

Warm sun, quiet air
an old man sits 
in the doorway of
a broken house— 
boards for windows
plaster falling 
from between the stones
and strokes the head 
of a spotted dog

—William Carlos Williams

Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket

Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket

I am unjust, but I can strive for justice.
My life’s unkind, but I can vote for kindness.
I, the unloving, say life should be lovely.
I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness. 
Man is a curious brute — he pets his fancies —
Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury.
So he will be, tho’ law be clear as crystal,
Tho’ all men plan to live in harmony. 
Come, let us vote against our human nature,
Crying to God in all the polling places
To heal our everlasting sinfulness
And make us sages with transfigured faces.

—Vachel Lindsay

The Poor voter on Election Day

The Poor Voter on Election Day

The proudest now is but my peer,
The highest not more high;
To-day, of all the weary year,
A king of men am I.
To-day alike are great and small,
The nameless and the known
My palace is the people’s hall,
The ballot-box my throne! 
Who serves to-day upon the list
Beside the served shall stand;
Alike the brown and wrinkled fist,
The gloved and dainty hand!
The rich is level with the poor,
The weak is strong to-day;
And sleekest broadcloth counts no more
Than homespun frock of gray. 
To-day let pomp and vain pretense
My stubborn right abide;
I set a plain man’s common sense
Against the pedant’s pride.
To-day shall simple manhood try
The strength of gold and land
The wide world has not wealth to buy
The power in my right hand! 
While there’s a grief to seek redress,
Or balance to adjust,
Where weighs our living manhood less
Than Mammon’s vilest dust, —
While there’s a right to need my vote
A wrong to sweep away,
Up! clouted knee and ragged coat!
A man’s a man to-day!

—John Greenleaf Whittier