Summer Eden Poetry Center
A site for sharing poetry -- mine and others'. Kick back and relax, sip a cuppa tea or a cold brew, and browse through the offerings.
Sunday, July 17, 2022
Fern Hill - Dylan Thomas
Thursday, June 23, 2022
Available Now - "Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women" Anthology
Thursday, June 16, 2022
Official Anthology Launch Date: June 18, 2022
“Award-winning
authors, Pushcart nominees, emerging poets, voices of women and men, come to
the fore in this stunning, powerful, and unique anthology. Their poems testify
to the challenges that women face in our society, and to their power to
overcome them. A memorable collection of over 200 poems by more than 100
authors, this anthology is a must-have for anyone. We all can benefit from the
poetry of survival, and of healing. We all can benefit from the experiences so
beautifully evoked in this book. We can all come together to emerge triumphant
from pain.”
Editor and Curator: Gabriela Marie Milton
Publisher: Experiments in Fiction/Ingrid Wilson
Artwork: Nick Reeves
Get YOUR copy soon!
Dawn Pisturino
Friday, June 10, 2022
"Wounds I Healed" Anthology Acceptance
Dawn Pisturino
June 10, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Tuesday, May 31, 2022
Joyful Krishna: The Ten Incarnations
from Jayadeva's Gitagovinda:
Joyful Krishna
"Clouds thicken the sky.
Tamala trees darken the forest.
The night frightens him.
Radha, you take him home!"
They leave at Nanda's order,
Passing trees in thickets on the way,
Until secret passions of Radha and Madhava
Triumph on the Jumna riverbank.
Jayadeva, wandering king of bards
Who sing at Padmavati's lotus feet,
Was obsessed in his heart
By rhythms of the goddess of speech,
And he made this lyrical poem
From tales of the passionate play
When Krishna loved Sri.
Umapatidhara is prodigal with speech,
Sarana is renowned for his subtle flowing sounds,
But only Jayadeva divines the pure design of words.
Dhoyi is famed as king of poets for his musical ear,
But no one rivals master Govardhana
For poems of erotic mood and sacred truth.
If remembering Hari enriches your heart,
If his arts of seduction arouse you,
Listen to Jayadeva's speech
In these sweet soft lyrical songs.
In seas that rage as the aeon of chaos collapses,
You keep the holy Veda like a ship straight on course.
You take form as the Fish, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Where the world rests on your vast back,
Thick scars show the weight of bearing earth.
You take form as the Tortoise, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
The earth clings to the tip of your tusk
Like a speck of dust caught on the crescent moon.
You take form as the Boar, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Nails on your soft lotus hand are wondrous claws
Tearing the gold-robed body of black bee Hiranyakasipu.
You take form as the Man-lion, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Wondrous dwarf, when you cheat demon Bali with wide steps,
Water falls from your lotus toenails to purify creatures.
You take form as the dwarf, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
You wash evil from the world in a flood of warrior's blood,
And the pain of existence is eased.
You take form as the axman Priest, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Invited by gods who guard the directions in battle,
You hurl Ravana's ten demon heads to the skies.
You take form as the prince Rama, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
The robe on your bright body is colored with rain clouds,
And Jumna waters roiling in fear of your plow's attack.
You take form as the plowman Balarama, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Moved by deep compassion, you condemn the Vedic way
That ordains animal slaughter in rites of sacrifice.
You take form as the enlightened Buddha, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
You raise your sword like a fiery meteor
Slashing barbarian hordes to death.
You take form as the avenger Kalki, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
Listen to the perfect invocation of poet Jayadeva,
Joyously evoking the essence of existence!
You take the tenfold cosmic form, Krishna.
Triumph, Hari, Lord of the World!
For upholding the Vedas,
For supporting the earth,
For raising the world,
For tearing the demon asunder,
For cheating Bali,
For destroying the warrior class,
For conquering Ravana,
For wielding the plow,
For spreading compassion,
For routing the barbarians,
Homage to you, Krishna,
In your ten incarnate forms!
~ Translated by Barbara Stoler Miller ~
Monday, May 9, 2022
Trees by Joyce Kilmer
(Photo by Brian Green)
Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
~ Joyce Kilmer ~
BIO: Alfred Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918) died at the tender age of 32, but his poem, Trees, is one of the most treasured in America. It was originally published in 1914 in his poetry collection, Trees and Other Poems, by George H. Doran Company. Kilmer fought in World War I and received the War Cross from the French government for bravery. He died from a sniper bullet on July 30, 1918. An old growth forest in North Carolina is named for him.
Plant trees! Support the National Arbor Day Foundation.
Friday, April 22, 2022
Spring Poems
(Photo by Reimar/Shutterstock)
Spring Poems
by Dawn Pisturino
~
April Showers
I looked into the heavens
And saw the face of God.
He was a kindly gentleman
And not too very loud.
He wore a watch upon his vest
Which gave the time of day.
He looked at it: "The time has come,"
Was all he had to say.
And soon a gentle rainfall
Came from the April sky.
It kissed my wondering up-turned face
And poked me in the eye.
But then a very curious thing
Did happen at my feet.
A tiny flower sprouted up,
All blooming and complete.
It opened up its tiny leaves,
Embracing fast the rain,
And if I ever doubted God -
I never did again.
~November 25, 1985~
Spring
Spring! The vigor of new life soars in my veins!
I am free and alive and wonderful,
Free as the silly sparrow twittering in the tree-top,
Too gaily alive.
Alive as the new-sprung fountain of youth in the riverbed,
Which knows not that it is bound by grassy banks,
But runs down the waterway in a mad race for the finish.
And, wonderful as the tiny petals of a flower,
First opening up to the Father Sun
Like a virgin bride in the marriage bed.
Sun gives new life to the blood,
And blood gives new life to the body,
And the body gives new life to the soul,
Ad infinitum, ad infinitum, ad infinitum.
But every Spring plays its part as a new beginning,
And we never tire of the encore.
~1987~
Robin Red-Breast
When Robin Red-breast comes to town,
All the children dance around,
Clapping hands and stamping feet,
Happy with their little treat!
~February 2, 1987~
Dawn Pisturino
Copyright 1985-1987 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.