Mary Angela Douglas

Mary Angela Douglas Poems

1401. How Beautiful They Stand 3/31/2018
1402. Folger's Theatre April 4,1988 8 P.M. Washington D.C. 3/31/2018
1403. Throwback 4/14/2018
1404. There Must Have Been A Reason 4/19/2018
1405. To My Mother By The Screen Door Of Heaven, Looking Out 4/27/2018
1406. To Ray Bradbury, Six Years Gone 4/28/2018
1407. The Spain Of My Mind, The Wind Of Gold 4/30/2018
1408. Morning Glory, Morning's Vine 5/1/2018
1409. There's An Angel For Going Out 5/17/2018
1410. On The Removal Of Certain Statues 5/20/2018
1411. Blue Light Scatters, Apart From The Rose Of Day 5/21/2018
1412. For Ireland Always 5/22/2018
1413. Dressed For The Occasion 5/25/2018
1414. Sometimes In My Dream There Is A Boat 5/28/2018
1415. Angels In Their Cloudy Dispositions 5/29/2018
1416. Lost Letter To Rilke 5/29/2018
1417. Song To Be Sung In An Overpoliticized Age 3/1/2017
1418. Who Knows When 3/4/2017
1419. To Oz From An Evergreen Distance 3/4/2017
1420. Secret Flights 3/6/2017
1421. If The Apple Blossom, The Cherry Or The Plum 3/9/2017
1422. On Beautiful Imagination 3/9/2017
1423. Imagination, Memory's Dower 3/9/2017
1424. Were You The Earthquake They Predicted 3/14/2017
1425. Continents (On The Music Of Josh Groban) 6/5/2018
1426. Trees And Their Shadows 6/21/2018
1427. The Study Of History As Being Out Of Place 6/22/2018
1428. My Grandmother's Studio, Late Afternoon 6/23/2018
1429. Station Break For The Guardian Angels 6/23/2018
1430. Lemonade Shade 6/30/2018
1431. A White Dress, The One Netted With Stars 7/6/2018
1432. Wanted: A Small Room 9/1/2018
1433. Something For Arthur Rubinstein 9/1/2018
1434. Gazing At Flowers In My Faded Floral Dress 9/1/2018
1435. To Our Lady Poverty 9/1/2018
1436. When I Was Queen Of The Paper Doll Stage (My Sister Too) 9/1/2018
1437. As I Stood Before The Looking Glass Wood 9/1/2018
1438. And The Incoming Tide 9/1/2018
1439. The Beautiful Things Not Playing Their Part 9/2/2018
1440. Seed Pearl Not The Rose 9/2/2018

Comments about Mary Angela Douglas

  • Ann Buermann Wass (7/6/2018 5:47:00 AM)

    Was thinking about you recently and wondering if I could find you. Remember our days at Fontbonne together?

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  • 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.

  • 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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