[PLEASE NOTE: All my poems are U.S. Copyrighted by date indicated at the bottom of the poem and all world-wide rights are reserved, including the right of translation into any language specifically to each and every poem and only to and for Mary Angela Douglas.] I love poetry past, present, and future. I especially love this website becomes it deeply welcomes all poets and I am very happy to be welcomed here. I have deep respect for everyone writing here. May you never stop writing poetry. It is one of the finest things that can be done in life, but then, you alredy know that, don't you? May your joy in poetry and your poems, every blessed word, live forever, as it is also, your mind, your heart, your soul shining out to others. To anyone and each person specifically who has ever read even one poem of mine or left a kind and beautiful comment, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART. It means so much to me. And I feel like truly whenever I write a poem I am writing in communion with each and every one and together we are all one beautiful bouquet of poetry to the glory of God. We are published in Heaven anytime and everytime we write with our whole heart and soul. I am sure of that. TO POETRY. FOREVER. IN HONOR OF NATIONAL POETRY MONTH APRIL 2021 if I could have written on an endless sky the beginning and ending of your fraught and mysterious syllables and only in clouds that I knew would fade Poetry, still I would have tried. or gone up in flame like the least, scarlet leaf to find one gold remaining song from you in pieces, weeping on the ground- one singing fragment from the ancient past of you still singed. I traded in beauty the poet Sara Teasdale said who left your words to prove long after her evening star had vanished that she lived and suffered here; so had she anchored so many goodbyes. even in a banished Kingdom, in a mere and clouded handful of sighs we still will whisper your name: even in the Kingdom of lies, still shine with your truth: down to the last and ragged shore of our breath form of music; form of the quenchless tremulous soul eluding death lyre unquenchable through all ages: burnished, anguished, raging ineffable heart streaming with all the Maypole ribbons of your art world without end do not leave us orphaned at the core of all speech forever beautiful and just beyond our reach. touchstone, high watermark of God Himself may you prevail. mary angela douglas 16 april 2021
to Ray Bradbury, looking back, or forward
the names of things we held in our heart
when alphabets foundered and worlds came apart
...
to my sister, Sharon,
and all her glistening music
go deeper into the woods soothed my pages,
...
...
my memory's screen door opens to the stars;
there's my Grandfather in the yard
gazing up at the constellations
...
we make useful things: things that won't shatter.
we make useful things, things that Matter.
think of a wave on the sea, I said;
...
song itself came to the back stairs of the castle
in a drenching rain
like the princess in old fairy stories, refrains
...