Faith by Louis Untermeyer

What are we bound for ?
What’s the yield Of all this energy and waste?
Why do we spend ourselves and build
With such an empty haste ?

Wherefore the bravery we boast?
How can we spend one laughing breath
When at the end all things are lost
In ignorance and death? . . .

The stars have found a blazing course
In a vast curve that cuts through space;
Enough for us to feel that force
Swinging us through the days.

Enough that we have strength to sing
And fight and somehow scorn the grave;
That Life’s too bold and bright a thing
To question or to save.

Out Of My Deeper Heart by Kahlil Gibran

OUT of my deeper heart a bird rose and flew skyward.
Higher and higher did it rise,
yet larger and larger did it grow.
At first it was but like a swallow,
then a lark,
then an eagle,
then as vast as a spring cloud,
and then it filled the starry heavens.
Out of my heart a bird flew skyward.
And it waxed larger as it flew.
Yet it left not my heart.
. . . . . .
O my faith, my untamed knowledge,
how shall I fly to your height
and see with you man’s larger self
pencilled upon the sky?
How shall I turn this sea within me into mist,
and move with you in space immeasurable?
How can a prisoner within the temple
behold its golden domes?
How shall the heart of a fruit
be stretched to envelop the fruit also?
O my faith,
I am in chains behind these bars of silver and ebony,
and I cannot fly with you.
Yet out of my heart you rise skyward,
and it is my heart that holds you,
and I shall be content.

Impressions by Alice Dunbar-Nelson

THOUGHT.

A swift, successive chain of things,
That flash, kaleidoscope-like, now in, now out,
Now straight, now eddying in wild rings,
No order, neither law, compels their moves,
But endless, constant, always swiftly roves.

HOPE.

Wild seas of tossing, writhing waves,
A wreck half-sinking in the tortuous gloom;
One man clings desperately, while Boreas raves,
And helps to blot the rays of moon and star,
Then comes a sudden flash of light, which gleams on shores afar.

LOVE.

A bed of roses, pleasing to the eye,
Flowers of heaven, passionate and pure,
Upon this bed the youthful often lie,
And pressing hard upon its sweet delight,
The cruel thorns pierce soul and heart, and cause a woeful blight.

DEATH.

A traveller who has always heard
That on this journey he some day must go,
Yet shudders now, when at the fatal word
He starts upon the lonesome, dreary way.
The past, a page of joy and woe,–the future, none can say.

FAITH.

Blind clinging to a stern, stone cross,
Or it may be of frailer make;
Eyes shut, ears closed to earth’s drear dross,
Immovable, serene, the world away
From thoughts–the mind uncaring for another day.

Love Song by Carol Muske-Dukes

Love comes hungry to anyone’s hand.
I found the newborn sparrow next to
the tumbled nest on the grass. Bravely

opening its beak. Cats circled, squirrels.
I tried to set the nest right but the wild
birds had fled. The knot of pin feathers

sat in my hand and spoke. Just because
I’ve raised it by touch, doesn’t mean it
follows. All day it pecks at the tin image of

a faceless bird. It refuses to fly,
though I’ve opened the door. What
sends us to each other? He and I

had a blue landscape, a village street,
some poems, bread on a plate. Love
was a camera in a doorway, love was

a script, a tin bird. Love was faceless,
even when we’d memorized each other’s
lines. Love was hungry, love was faceless,

the sparrow sings, famished, in my hand.

God Says Yes To Me by Kaylin Haught

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I’m telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

Up-hill by Christina Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
   Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
   From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?
   A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
   You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
   Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
   They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
   Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
   Yea, beds for all who come.

The Tune from The Uncelestial City by Humbert Wolfe

Draw back the bolt; swing the gate;
it is evening. How
shall you refuse the traveller,
gate-warden, now?

He brings nothing with him
but a shadowy burden
that will mix with the darker
shade of your garden.

He walked with love once.
It is evening. Let him
pass where all knew love,
and all forget him.

He has built castles;
they have fallen. Thou
shalt let him rebuild them
of shadow now.

He dreamed, he desired.
Give him the wage
of silence
after pilgrimage.

He has brought his sorrow,
his failure, his sin.
And therefore let him
enter in.

The Whole Mess … Almost by Gregory Corso

I ran up six flights of stairs
to my small furnished room
opened the window
and began throwing out
those things most important in life

First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink:
“Don’t! I’ll tell awful things about you!”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve nothing to hide … OUT!”
Then went God, glowering & whimpering in amazement:
“It’s not my fault! I’m not the cause of it all!” “OUT!”
Then Love, cooing bribes: “You’ll never know impotency!
All the girls on Vogue covers, all yours!”
I pushed her fat ass out and screamed:
“You always end up a bummer!”
I picked up Faith Hope Charity
all three clinging together:
“Without us you’ll surely die!”
“With you I’m going nuts! Goodbye!”

Then Beauty … ah, Beauty—
As I led her to the window
I told her: “You I loved best in life
… but you’re a killer; Beauty kills!”
Not really meaning to drop her
I immediately ran downstairs
getting there just in time to catch her
“You saved me!” she cried
I put her down and told her: “Move on.”

Went back up those six flights
went to the money
there was no money to throw out.
The only thing left in the room was Death
hiding beneath the kitchen sink:
“I’m not real!” It cried
“I’m just a rumor spread by life … ”
Laughing I threw it out, kitchen sink and all
and suddenly realized Humor
was all that was left—
All I could do with Humor was to say:
“Out the window with the window!”

Love, Hope and Faith by Rusty (Ed) Gibson

We live tomorrow
the dreams of today
Our hopes of the future
gives us faith along the way

Love is the river
of this wakened state
Its never out of time
its never too late

It gives us life
as it flows through our lives
It tears through confusion
loneliness and strife

Love cuts a clear path
through the test of time
You can see where it has been
and watch it unwind

Free as a river
that you can’t control
You can’t even say
where it might flow

Hope is a power
that cant be taken away
It can pull you through
even the toughest of days

Hope can keep you going
when everything else fails
It keeps you company
on the loneliest of trails

Faith is ever daring
in the face of defeat
It can bring you courage
that nothing can beat

Faith is never doubting
in yourself or your beliefs
Holding on to what you know
when content is just a dream

Faith can give you strength
to face what the future brings
Combined with hope and love
you only need the three of these

Love is like a River
Hope is like a dream
Faith is just believing
with nothing to be seen

So dream of tomorrow
and Love for today
Hope with all your heart
Let Faith show you the way