Mary Angela Douglas

Mary Angela Douglas Poems

1001. Coming Back To The Hedges In Bloom 6/12/2016
1002. For Sharon In Summer 6/12/2016
1003. The Rose Down Of The Sun Shall Ride 6/13/2016
1004. The Secret 'i' 6/13/2016
1005. Slides 6/16/2016
1006. Advice For The Dedicated Reader Much Maligned 6/16/2016
1007. Time Is The Picture Book You Said 6/17/2016
1008. Saints With Their Roses 6/18/2016
1009. Leaving 6/18/2016
1010. In A Much Better Mood 6/19/2016
1011. Then Earth Remembers You 6/19/2016
1012. Why Does Enchantment Keep Wearing Off 6/20/2016
1013. Think Of Your Future 6/20/2016
1014. I Promised You What Could Not Happen 6/20/2016
1015. Summers, At The Beginning 6/21/2016
1016. Screens 6/22/2016
1017. Yesterday, In A Green Garden 6/23/2016
1018. Will You Travel With A Suitable Heart 6/23/2016
1019. How To Read Another Poet's Poem 4/5/2016
1020. Cats Do Not Trust Me 4/5/2016
1021. Brushstrokes Of Snow On The Silentist Sky 4/5/2016
1022. Cherry Trumpets 4/6/2016
1023. I Bless The Little Cobbling Cells That Mend My Wounds 4/6/2016
1024. O Won't You Remember The Popsickle Days 4/6/2016
1025. To Certain Persons, Poets Who Use Christ As A Fashion Accessory Or Throw-Away Cultural Aside 4/7/2016
1026. I Remember A Tv Program Called Queen For A Day 4/7/2016
1027. But The Snows... 4/7/2016
1028. Thread 4/8/2016
1029. Is Sean Hannity Irish American Or What 4/8/2016
1030. April In Fairy Tale Weather 4/8/2016
1031. Maybe I Have Invisible Friends 4/9/2016
1032. Witnesses 4/11/2016
1033. Will There Be A Cottage There 4/11/2016
1034. You Imagine Yourself On Dry Land Sometimes 4/11/2016
1035. Could We Help It That We Thought 4/11/2016
1036. This Is My Confession To The Roses 4/12/2016
1037. We Never Did 4/12/2016
1038. The Kingdom Of Left Behind 4/12/2016
1039. Up Close 4/15/2016
1040. The Math Of Stars, The Distances 6/24/2016

Comments about Mary Angela Douglas

  • Prabhata Kumar Sahoo Prabhata Kumar Sahoo (5/8/2017 11:54:00 PM)

    I love your poet'page.I am tempted to read more about your works after going thru a few.

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Is It Poetry James Mclain Is It Poetry James Mclain (11/15/2016 10:55:00 AM)

    Few have the honesty
    As do you
    To have like you the truth
    As you speak in your
    Biography .. James

  • Mary Angela Douglas Mary Angela Douglas (7/2/2016 4:10:00 PM)

    Thank you for your kind comment Odiete. I believe that poetry and being a poet is from God. If there is any vastness in my poems it comes from my being happy to think about the vastness of God. We are all vast in Him I like to think too. My versatility comes from having a scattered, butterfly like brain that likes to flit from flower to flower in terms of topics to think about (why I always had trouble with writing research papers in school at the last minute; not from procrastination, just from liking too much to research and keep finding things out without drawing conclusions. Heaven will be at least in part, for me, I think, the joy of NEVER AGAIN HAVING TO DRAW CONCLUS9ONS! God bless you a abundantly in your continuing (and already eternal) life as a poet. Thank You. Mary Angela Douglas

  • Ovi-enita Odiete Ovi-enita Odiete (7/2/2016 3:44:00 PM)

    You are such a Vast, Versatile and talented Poetess.....

Best Poem of Mary Angela Douglas

The Names Of Things

to Ray Bradbury, looking back, or forward

the names of things we held in our heart
when alphabets foundered and worlds came apart
and the clouds drifted over mindless borders

and were crucified.
the names of things, the orange and the lemon
the midnight zither and the bluebird plans

the tissue paper birthdays at a secret command
all disappeared, their ribbons curling.
all but the names we taught our children to revere and

year past year,
never to split the silver from the rains,
to refrain from negating the Soul.

and ever to stow the...

Read the full of The Names Of Things

Praising The Book People

'the faint whisper of a turned page'
-Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

would you sell your heart's desire
would you chop it up for
firewood in the bitter cold

or throw it over the bridge,
sparking futile distances,

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