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Poetry Composition Through Instruction

The Powwow at the End of the World

By Sherman Alexie I am told by many of you that I must forgive and so I shallafter an Indian woman puts her shoulder to the Grand Coulee Damand topples it. I am told by many of you that I must forgiveand so I shall after the floodwaters burst each successive damdownriver from the Grand…
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The Waking

By Theodore Roethke I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know?I hear my being dance from ear to ear.I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of those…
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In a Dark Time

By Theodore Roethke In a dark time, the eye begins to see,I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;I hear my echo in the echoing woodA lord of nature weeping to a tree.I live between the heron and the wren,Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den. What’s madness but nobility of soulAt odds…
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The Dice Changer

By Duane Niatum aven steals your name for an autumn joke:buries you along with it underthe thickest hemlock known to chipmunks.Too bad you were awake for the event.He accuses you of asking allthe wrong questions over and over.You attempt revolt to prove his medicinewheel is cracked and filling up its own pit. He hollers your…
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Consulting an Elder Poet on an Anti-War Poem for Elizabeth Bishop

by Duane Niatum You said to me that day,“There’s nothing you can do,”and spoke of Auden’s line:“Poetry makes nothing happen.”And though I honor you,especially your poems,the objects you dipped in light,then, left in the rainbow,let slip from our sight,I admitted, diving out of self,a sweet woman’s white caress,the hundreds of lives and placesin books, failed…
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Lines for Roethke Twenty Years after His Death

by Duane Niatum (Salish) IYou asked us to hear the softest vocable of wind,whether slow or swift, rising or falling to earth,its fragments will drop in to place in the end.You said, believe, endure, the ironies of birth!If we succeeded in sleeping like thorns on a rose,the nerves awake to the pulse, folklore of the…
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Guantanamo

by Shihab Zeest Hashmi A guard forces you to urinate on yourselfAnother barks out louder than his dogthe names of your sisterswho live in the delicate nestof a ruby-throated hummingbirdEach will be a skeleton he saysWas there someone who gave youseven almonds for memory,a teaspoon of honey every morning?Cardamom tea before bed?Someone who starched your…
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I didn’t apologize to the well…

by Mamoud Darwish I didn’t apologize to the well as I passed by it.I borrowed a cloud from an ancient pine and squeezed itlike an orange. I waited for a mythical white deer.I instructed my heart in patience: Be neutral, as thoughyou were not a part of me. Here, good shepherdsstood on air and invented…
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Fundamentalism

By Naomi Shihab Nye Because the eye has a short shadow orit is hard to see over heads in the crowd? If everyone else seems smarterbut you need your own secret? If mystery was never your friend? If one way could satisfy the infinite heart of the heavens? If you liked the king on his…
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Song Book

by Naomi Shihab Nye Tiny keyboard bearing the massive reverie of the past—press one button, we’re carried away on a country road,marching with saints, leaving the Red River Valley…here is every holiday you hated, every hard time,each steamy summer wish. You closed your eyesin the wooden stairwell, leaning your head against the wall,knowing a bigger…
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