Stay Connected“You feel right to me,” she said. “Like naked on cashmere.”
Atticus presents a daily poetry reading of all his poems you know and love, and some you have yet to discover.
This is a moment to pause. A space for self-reflection. A chance for you to rediscover the poetry in life. We hope it’s going to feel really good — like naked on cashmere.
Copyright: © 2019 Naked on Cashmere by Atticus - Produced by Podcast Nation
She took stamps
from the drawer in the kitchen
her father saw but didn’t say
they drove
and she watched out the window
fingering them carefully
in her pocket
together they climbed the grassy hill
up to the acorn tree
stopping at a rock
perfectly carved
with a woman’s name—
for a long time
and a careful time
she looked and thought
but never cried.
“Papa?”
she finally said,
“How many stamps
does it take to reach heaven?”
“One will do,
my love—“
And so,
she put one stamp on
and placed one inside
and left the letter
by her mother’s side.
xx Atticus
Other poems read today:
Tell me,
she said,
about our house
our children
our garden
about the lives we will have --
but he never could
and it wasn't until she was gone
that he understood
that she never needed the house
she only needed the dream.
xx Atticus
"I dream’d in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the
attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth;
I dream’d that was the new City of Friends;
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust
love—it led the rest;
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of
that city,
And in all their looks and words."
- “I Dreamed a Dream” by Walt Whitman
xx Atticus
He was a brother
I never had,
different than the others,
and he carried in his eyes
and on his arms
the tattoos
and scars
of being famous young,
he wore the face
of a star
but all I saw
was a poet
drowning
in someone else’s dreams
who wished only
to sink
into the quiet sea
or fade
into any painted wall of Brooklyn.
xx Atticus
"I Have Fallen" by Christopher Poindexter
I have fallen
in love many times.
Have you ever sat in a bar
and watched a lonely man
or woman by themselves,
their tired eyes shaken,
fixed on nothing but
the glass in front of them?
Can't you taste their sadness
from across the room?
Those people.
I fall in love
with those people.
To me there are few things
more real.
Follow Christopher @christopherpoindexter
xx Atticus
Somewhere
sitting on a cloud
deep in the sky
there is a secret list
written by an angel
that holds
all the wonderful moments
your life
has yet to come.
xx Atticus
"Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold Fast to dream
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow."
- “Dreams” by Langston Hughes
xx Atticus
There is an island I know
I shouldn’t even mention—
it’s a fairy tale, you see
where no one wears shoes
and no one needs to—
the houses are hobbit-like
with grass on the roofs
and the food is fresh from a nearby farm
every morning the tea sits steeping
on long wooden counters
with toast and jams from local berries—
the crickets always crick here
and the birds call, the kind
that make you stop and say,
“Now that is a beautiful song”—
the sun is hot
without a cloud in the sky
and the beach runs out for a mile
in silky white sand
so that when the tide flows back in the afternoon
it heats up, warm as a bath,
when it rains
you build puzzles, and paint, and read
and light fires that crackle
and smell like cedar saunas
and each night, rain or shine,
you drink wine
and listen to records
while you play games—
and sometimes
you’ll lay in long grass
and chase the stars around the sky
heads close together with the ones you love—
each day is the same
you do what brings you peace—
and the wildest part of it all
is the island is real
my toes are in its sand.
Other Poems Read Today:
xx Atticus
She wanted to be rich
and she looked good on a yacht
but I wanted a girl
that looked good by a campfire
with freckles like sparks
to stain
the ashy sky.
xx Atticus
Somewhere
in the great landscape of time
there is a garden growing
the most beautiful rose
that has ever been
and that will ever be -
you are that rose,
forever to me.
xx Atticus
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