This is what you shall do

I read Whitman’s poem last night. Really a worthwhile read.

This is what you shall do:
Love the earth and sun and the animals,
Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks,
Stand up for the stupid and crazy,
Devote your income and labors to others,
Hate tyrants, argue not concerning God,
Have patience and indulgence toward the people,
Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown,
Or to any man or number of men,
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons,
And with the young and with the mothers of families,
Read these leaves in the open air,
Every season of every year of your life,
Reexamine all you have been told,
At school at church or in any book,
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul,
And your very flesh shall be a great poem,
And have the richest fluency not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
And in every motion and joint of your body.

Subtle Part of the Forest

In his story,
My student wrote:
“our parents decided to move to a more suttle part of the forest.”

Yes, he misspelled the word. 
And he was misusing it even if he spelled it right.

But I'm not taking points off.

Because now I want to move
To a more subtle part of the forest.
A place off the path,
But just off the path,
A place that everyone passes 
But not everyone sees.

A clearing bounded 
by pine needles and leaves.
Within, giving loamy earth.
The air
is the mingling scents of green. 

Sun light rays down 
Defining trees
Giving them their shadows.
Forest dust shapes the sun shafts
that shooting-star bugs plunge through.

Wires Tangle

A poem inspired by tangle wires
Wires tangle 

Like lives 

Like loves. 

Electricity twists wires 

Like lies twist minds. 

Wires twirl into one another 

Like legs intertwined.  

Wires find each other 

Like the time 

Even on that first day  

You just know  

You'll be best friends