Reciting Project in May: Green
Every May, when all the leaves return, I think about my love/hate relationship with green. In the past I’ve gathered a few poems by others about green. This year to become better acquainted with the poems, I’ve decided to memorize and then recite them on my run.
- The Trees/ Phillip Larkin (started may 10, 2020)
- Instructions on Not Giving Up/ Ada Limón (started may 14, 2020)
- What Would Root/ Katie/Farris (started may 18, 2020)
May 7th-May 25th
Entries describing running while reciting green poems.
More Green, Later in the Summer
- Summer/ Carlo Betocchi
- Surrender/ Geraldine Connolly
- More Than Enough/ Marge Piercy
lines of green
Katie Farris
it’s all green, really; even the red is anti-green
The land spread itself greenly for me and I wished I had seed to toss into that green, just to see what would root.
Phillip Larkin
Their greenness is a kind of grief
Carl Phillips
green as water, the willow’s motion, green as oblivion, the willow’s indifference
Robert Frost
Nature’s first green is gold
Ada Limón
It’s the greening of the trees that really gets to me.
the green skin growing over whatever winter did to us
Emily Dickinson
The Color of the Grave is Green –The Outer Grave – I mean – You would not know it from the Field –Except it own a Stone –
Gwendolyn Brooks
Graves grow no green that you can use. Remember, green’s your color. You are Spring.
Jericho Brown
I grow green with hope
Inspired by Rita Dove’s Ode to My Right Knee:
Ode to Green/ Sara Lynne Puotinen
Greedy gorge gobbler grifting
vistas. Vanishing views.
Overrunning overlooks. Orchestrating
take-overs–trees tressed,
scenes stolen, senses smothered. Stop.
Yield your yearly
domination. Dress down. Decide
against always
exuding excess.
Oh overabundant obstruction,
we want windows, ways
out, openings, other
perspectives, possibilities. Please
share some space. Surely
room remains
for faithful friends forever
craving crowd-less calm
where water waits, wants witnessing? Where
labored lungs longing
to take
bigger, bug-less breaths beside
river’s rim reach relief?
Or, in this form:
Greedy gorge gobbler grifting vistas. Vanishing views. Overrunning overlooks. Orchestrating take-overs–trees tressed, scenes stolen, senses smothered. Stop. Yield your yearly domination. Dress down. Decide against always exuding excess. Oh overabundant obstruction, we want windows, ways out, openings, other perspectives, possibilities. Please share some space. Surely room remains for faithful friends forever craving crowd-less calm where water waits, wants witnessing? Where labored lungs longing to take bigger, bug-less breaths beside river’s rim reach relief?
Or, in this form:
Greedy gorge gobbler grifting
vistas. Vanishing views.
Overrunning overlooks. Orchestrating
take-overs–trees tressed,
scenes stolen, senses smothered. Stop.
Yield your yearly
domination. Dress down. Decide
against always
exuding excess.
Oh overabundant obstruction,
we want windows, ways
out, openings, other
perspectives, possibilities. Please
share some space. Surely
room remains
for faithful friends forever
craving crowd-less calm
where water waits, wants witnessing, where
laboring lungs long
to take
bigger, bug-less breaths beside
river’s rim?
Which form works better?