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Poetry

Displaying 51 - 100 of 138. This list includes every page on UUA.org tagged with "Poetry" or one of its subcategories. This page will reload after each filter selection to update the results and the remaining selections.

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  • By David Breeden
    Hope is fine-grained,/ like lavender gone to seed. Gossamer, a moth’s wings. There’s no weight / called hope.
  • By John Daniel
    Among other wonders of our lives, we are alive with one another, we live here in the light of this unlikely world that isn’t ours for long...
  • By John Daniel
    It would be a quieter holiday, no fireworks or loud parades, no speeches, no salutes to any flag, a day of staying home instead of crowding...
  • By Molly Housh Gordon
    This trio of poems in multiple voices imagines the journey of Jesus’ followers, from the gates of the city to the empty tomb. At the Gate...
  • By Megan Dowdell
    I had dreams about anywhere-else-but-here But our faith kept me close. I believed I had done something to deserve it. Our faith shouted, “...
  • By Misha Sanders
    In a sacred place of honor in the temple that is my home stands a gleaming, powerful image of The Venus of Willendorf, proud and naked, her...
  • By David Breeden
    The Solstices teach us that darkness comes, that darkness goes. The Solstices teach us that light comes, that light goes. The Solstices...
  • By Jim Burklo
    “‘God did it’ isn’t an explanation,” said Joseph. He got no account for the baby’s chromosomes, No description of the mechanism that...
  • By Rebecca Parker
    You have to know your body as the home of God And this is the purpose of Christmas. The rose blossoming in the wilderness is the unfolding...
  • By Laura Bogle
    Outside The flags fly Down the highway, hanging on to the back of large trucks or the chest of a man. Outside There is grabbing and taking...
  • By Luke Stevens-Royer
    (written for the Presidential Election, 2016) I walk in, as on pilgrimage. The altar cloths are red, white, and blue the ushers are the...
  • By Jan Richardson
    Go slow if you can. Slower. More slowly still. Friendly dark or fearsome, this is no place to break your neck by rushing, by running, by...
  • By Swiftwalker
    Let’s start with the people we love and those who love us, thankful they are in our lives obliging us to open our hearts. Let open hearts...
  • By Theresa I. Soto
    I know sometimes you get cranky, And sometimes your tea gets cold Before you can drink it. Sometimes The news is too much. The resistance...
  • By Becky Brooks
    we were erased and still we loved we were shamed and still we loved we were expelled and still we loved we were laughed at and still we...
  • By Lynn Ungar
    There is no algebra for death. No life lost cancels out another. The idea that there is some other side to the equation is a lie...
  • By Adam Lawrence Dyer
    That first breath must be delicious. It must be more tantalizing, more intoxicating than any drug, fragrant like no flower will ever be...
  • By Karen G. Johnston
    Inexplicable. How we rise each morning, instead of burying our heads under bedcovers, sewing them shut. Why we keep on welcoming babies...
  • By Robin Tanner
    I wonder Did God’s heart (I mean the love-mushy, endearing part of God) That part The heart that I don’t really believe in as a thing, With...
  • By Elizabeth Coatsworth
    Through the windy night something is coming up the path towards the house. I have always hated to wait for things. I think I will go to...
  • By Peter Friedrichs
    I want not dainty bone china-cupped, oh-so-polite, pinky-extended sips, but guzzle-by-the-gallon, drink-from-the-fire-hose- two-hundred-...
  • By Lynn Ungar
    A man sits on the rubble— not just in the rubble, but on the pile of what remains. No people in the bombed-out houses. No dogs. No birds...
  • By Peter Friedrichs
    Why is this blank page staring back at me, mocking, like an affliction, and fraught with dread? How can it hold such sway, this simple...
  • By Bob Janis-Dillon
    I vote we let the artists win the ones covered in paint from their last attempt to smuggle across the beauty of a bowl of fruit the 14-year...
  • By Peter Friedrichs
    I wish I were like the trees, Who let their leaves go gracefully, without regret. Or the tumbling stream that flushes silt to sea,...
  • By Peter Friedrichs
    What is the history of any thing? This apple, let's say, that my grandson just picked as he sits on my shoulders, feet dangling like...
  • By Joseph Seamon Cotter
    I am so tired and weary, So tired of the endless fight, So weary of waiting the dawn And finding endless night. That I ask but rest and...
  • By Edna St. Vincent Millay
    Now the autumn shudders In the rose's root, Far and wide the ladders Lean among the fruit. Now the autumn clambers Up the trellised frame...
  • By Jeannie Shero
    #‎BlackLivesMatter Let the only burning be the fire of commitment in our hearts, minds, hands, spirits in our community of faith. Live...
  • By Emily Dickinson
    “Hope” is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in...
  • By Mark L. Belletini
    Ah, it’s true. When our ancestors spoke of heaven, they were speaking of this moment. When they went on about nirvana they imagined a time...
  • By Stephen M Shick
    Is the fire going out? Not in your belly, for you are still alive, but in your soul, that place where dreams fuel commitment where longings...
  • By Bob Janis-Dillon
    Sometimes I offer to make a deal with God. “I’ll tell you about my resistance to prayer,” I say, “If you’ll explain the Holocaust.” God...
  • By Bob Janis-Dillon
    Later there were mutterings at the bar, and throughout the law courts, that Jesus only showed at the gay pride parade to love the jewel,...
  • By Ric Masten
    if we show them at all most of us who write our secrets down and call it poetry prefer to slip it under the door and run, and if we must be...
  • By Jean M. Olson
    In what form did the spirit appear to you today, the blossom of a flower, the tug of a child’s hand, the silent twinkling stars, an old...
  • By Janet Hutchinson
    Of course I want the truth, but here’s the rub: Truth doesn’t sit around still as a rock, it breathes and flows and turns inside out. Ever...
  • By Barbara J Pescan
    I am praying again and how does one pray when unsure if anything hears? In the world I know as reliable and finite when time and matter...
  • By Stephen M Shick
    It is not old, Yet it comes through the wisdom of the ages. It is not young, Yet it comes through the passion of innocence. It is not...
  • By Angela Herrera
    You bring yourself before the sacred, before the holy, before what is ultimate and bigger than your lone life bigger than your worries...
  • By Mark L. Belletini
    Barukh atah, Emeth! Blest are you, o Truth. Like the fabled Moses, I too can never claim to have seen you “face to face.” Too often, I’ve...
  • By Ric Masten
    shouting back to Stevie Smith who cried “I’m drowning! Not waving!” I ain’t waving babe, I’m drowning going down in a cold lonely sea I ain...
  • By Gordon B McKeeman
    I stretch forth my hand Knowing not what I shall touch... A tender spot, An open wound, Warmth, Pulsing life, Fragile blossoms, A rock, Ice...
  • By Kathy Fuson Hurt
    In order to get out I must go through. There is no other way. No other way? But there must be another way, an easier path, a well-lit road...
  • By Stephen M Shick
    It hurts to let go of intensity that zapped like electricity yesterday. It hurts to disconnect arcing power, watch it ground and vanish...
  • By Kenneth L. Patton
    I must live my own way, Refusing all that binds. I must know my own mind Among all other minds. I must do my own deeds, And in whatever...
  • By Ralph Waldo Emerson
    Give all to love; Obey thy heart; Friends, kindred, days, Estate, good-fame, Plans, credit and the Muse,— Nothing refuse. ’T is a brave...
  • By Angela Herrera
    This is what one hundred years look like: A rounded wrinkled back, sparkling wet and soapy above the shower bench, and my hand, having ­...
  • By Geoffrey Herbert
    New ­People came this time, and we shared our stories, the familiar truths, about shock and healing and being glad that at last our...
  • By Alicia Forde
    I lift my eyes up to the hills from where will my help come? My help comes from Love abundant. my help comes from the hills my help—my help...

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