Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Monday, April 25, 2011

POET OF THE DAY: doris davenport


Doris Davenport has been a friend for many years. We've shared our stories and poems, as well as photos of cabbages, clouds, vistas, trees, and each other. Doris never fails to delight with her poems. Here are some new ones from her 8th book of poetry, sometimes i wonder, to wake you up on a Monday morning.




some mornings


these feet have to learn

how to walk

all over again


(i have to learn how

to walk again.)


the feet teach each

other the basic step

step move up to

the ankles, the

legs & knees then to

these recalcitrant thighs

thick lazy things supple in

supinity & slow they learn:

move. now. like. this.


and then some mornings

poems walk

all over me






i agree with the Universe

3-4000 years ago what

did Native Inhabitants

of this place do on

a wet rainy Friday

mountain morning with

no cars in which

to rush off to

jobs, errands and

urgent must-do’s

in tepees, tents,

caves did they

slowly wake and

stretch, thank a

Higher Power, feed

children, themselves

then - sleep more? Meditate

the world into being? Allow

the world to be?

poems outside the window


already across the

street trees

gone from

bud to leaf

from whitish

yellow to glistening bright

new green the air

softly drifts yellow

i long,

now, to read

classic Chinese women

poets in the original.



Copyright 2010 by doris davenport


1 comment:

Vicki Lane said...

Love 'some mornings poems walk all over me'! And I so understands that strange longing to read classic Chinese women poets in the original... in Spring, everything seems possible...