Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Verse First ~ Icy



Welcome to Verse First, where simple notions prompt amazing poems. 

Today's notion?

~ ICY ~

Three letters. One small word.  Myriad meanings and applications. Could be intensely cold, like a stare or a glare or a nasty attitude, or simply the weather. Or maybe it just means something is covered with ice.

Icy is an application that enables users to install and manage other apps on jailbroken iPhones; and Urban Dictionary defines icy as a descriptor for  expensive-looking clothing or jewelry. Icy.


"Fountain Freeze" © Kim Nelson

"Icy Sonora" © Kim Nelson

"Cold & Blue" © Kim Nelson



Take this information, or one of the above images and write away. Post the poem on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it with us. Feel free to leave a comment below, and be sure to enjoy the work of your fellow poets by visiting and commenting on one another's work. 

Looking forward to reading some amazing poems! ~ Kim





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Monday, January 28, 2013

Life of a Poet ~ Libby Meador


  Kids, I have a fascinating tale to share with you today. I recognized a fellow Wild Woman in Libby Meador, of The Blog of DonkeyOkie, and was so curious to hear her story I asked to interview her. I was right. Libby's story, and her life, are amazing. On Libby's site are wonderful poems, and photographs of the land she and her family live on, which is beautiful beyond belief. Come along ~ Libby has invited us to sit by the fire, an invitation I am delighted to accept, on behalf of us all.



P.U.:  Libby, I am so happy to be interviewing you. Let's leap in! What does the name of your blog signify?

                                                                   

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Poetry Pantry #134

Alpine Skiier - Wikimedia Commons
 
The Poetry Pantry
2nd Chance Poems or 1st time shares

Greetings, Poets!   Wonderful to see you this Sunday again. And I am looking forward to seeing what you are bringing to the Pantry to share today!

This is one of my favorite spaces to post during the poetic week.  I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your poem -- either a relatively new one or one from your archives.  Then visit other poets. That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too!  And hey, linking is only one part, visit one another too.

And, as always, please leave a comment in the comment section for us...and if you are an early poster, perhaps check back later and see what others have said! 

Also, if you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.


There are 3 simple rules:

1. Link only 1 poem per week.  If you link more than one, anything after #1 will be removed.

2. Please visit several other poems linked here when you link to yours. Please
don't just link and run, waiting for others to visit you. 
3. Leave a comment after you have posted
your link.  I find that people who leave comments tend to be more participatory.  They wish to be part of the community.  A little of this goes a long way.  It feels good for all.





Saturday, January 26, 2013

Classic Poetry ~ "The Owl and The Pussycat" by Edward Lear

Edward Lear, 1812-1888


When considering the classics, we often maintain a stoic or serious attitude. Today’s post deviates. Our Poets United family boasts a number of light-hearted poets, and it is in their honor that I offer up Edward Lear.

Lear was an artist, illustrator, author and poet who has been referred to as the father of literary nonsense. The twentieth of twenty-one children, Lear was ill during most of his childhood in Middlesex, England, and cultivated drawing and writing skills during convalescence. He utilized those talents, supporting himself as an illustrator and travel writer while seeing much of the world before ultimately settling in San Remo, Italy. Although he proposed marriage more than once (to the same woman nearly 5 decades his junior), he never wed nor had children. 

I’ve selfishly chosen to share “The Owl and The Pussycat” after fondly reflecting back on commutes to and from work when my eldest child, then only two, recited it to me from her carseat. I hope it provides you with a bit of joy as well.


I

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
    In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
    Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
    And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
      What a beautiful Pussy you are,
          You are,
          You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'


II

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
    How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
    But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
    To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
    With a ring at the end of his nose,
          His nose,
          His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.


III

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
    Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
    By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
    Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
    They danced by the light of the moon,
          The moon,
          The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.





Friday, January 25, 2013

I Wish I'd Written This


ARS POETICA? (City without Name)

By Czeslaw Milosz (1911 - 2004)

I have always aspired to a more spacious form
that would be free from the claims of poetry or prose
and would let us understand each other without exposing
the author or reader to sublime agonies.

In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent:
a thing is brought forth which we didn't know we had in us,
so we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out
and stood in the light, lashing his tail.

That's why poetry is rightly said to be dictated by a daimonion,
though it's an exaggeration to maintain that he must be an angel.
It's hard to guess where that pride of poets comes from,
when so often they're put to shame by the disclosure of their frailty.

What reasonable man would like to be a city of demons,
who behave as if they were at home, speak in many tongues,
and who, not satisfied with stealing his lips or hand,
work at changing his destiny for their convenience?

It's true that what is morbid is highly valued today,
and so you may think that I am only joking
or that I've devised just one more means
of praising Art with the help of irony.

There was a time when only wise books were read,
helping us to bear our pain and misery.
This, after all, is not quite the same
as leafing through a thousand works fresh from psychiatric clinics.

And yet the world is different from what it seems to be
and we are other than how we see ourselves in our ravings.
People therefore preserve silent integrity,
thus earning the respect of their relatives and neighbors.

The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.

What I'm saying here is not, I agree, poetry,
as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly,
under unbearable duress and only with the hope
that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their instrument.


Czeslaw Milosz was born and grew up in Lithuania, lived many years in Poland, migrated to the United States in 1960 and became a US citizen in 1970. At the end of his life, he was able to spend time in Poland again, going back and forth from America. A prolific writer (as you can see in his Wikipedia entry if you scroll down to the end, to the list of his writings) he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1980, when it was said of him: "who with uncompromising clear-sightedness voices man's exposed condition in a world of severe conflicts".

I hope it's self-evident why I could wish to have written this. The last three lines alone would be reason enough. Also I like the quirky tone, almost casual despite the wonderful language and imagery; and the way he begins by taking an anti-poetic position which leads us right around to its exact opposite.

You can find lots more of his poems at that ever-useful site PoemHunter.com, and at Poets.org you can have the pleasure of hearing him read some of his own work, including the poem I've chosen for you. It's very interesting to listen to that one, as he uses a translation slightly different from the accepted version you see here. Perhaps it is his own translation.

There is a long list of his books, both poetry and prose, on Amazon.



Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Verse First ~ Fence


Welcome to Verse First, where simple notions prompt amazing poems. 

Today's notion?



FENCE



Language, nothing short of amazing, allows us to accurately communicate ideas and information. Except, of course, when multiple or mixed meanings get in the way.


The word fence, for example,  can refer to a structure, a sporting act, criminal sales or a means of protection. It can mean to ward off, to defend or to avoid giving directions. On the fence indicates indecisiveness, or an unwillingness to make a choice. 

Fence

Fagin's Thieves ~ George Cruikshank
Winter Berries, NYC © Kim Nelson

Enclosure, Alhambra, Spain © Kim Nelson
Fencing
Take this information, or one of the images above and write away. Post the poem on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it with us. Feel free to leave a comment below, and be sure to visit and comment on your colleagues ~ahem~ fence posts. 

Looking forward to reading some amazing poems! ~ Kim




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Monday, January 21, 2013

Life of a Poet ~ the Cheesewolf


Kids, I suspect I asked to do this interview because I am so fascinated by the origin of the Cheesewolf's name - Gavin Jones hails from the U.K., on the Lancashire/Yorkshire border. He makes me swoon when he tells me he can walk on the same moors the Brontes wandered,  their dramatic stories swirling in their heads, their capes flying in the wind. Sigh. It's a bit windy out on the moors, so we'll head straight for Gavin's, where we will be taking tea - two lumps of sugar? -  by a stone fireplace that climbs the cottage wall. Sit by the fire, and warm, while Gavin tells us about the Cheesewolf's journey.



Poets United: Gavin, I finally get to ask you: how did you come up with the name of your blog, and what are its connotations?


the Cheesewolf on board

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Poetry Pantry - #133

The Poetry Pantry
2nd Chance Poems or 1st time shares

Greetings, Poets!   Wonderful to see you this Sunday again. And I am looking forward to seeing what you are bringing to the Pantry to share today!

Just as a reminder:  I am going to be going through the blogroll shortly.  The blogroll is for people who are ACTIVE here at Poets United.  I personally use it sometime when I want to see if any of our members have posted something new, and I then visit the blog.  I know Sherry Blue Sky does this too.  I hope YOU do this too. That's what it's for!  If you are someone who is not active on PU(not participating) for a period of time, eventually your blog will disappear from the list...as it is meant for poets who post here.  Don't let that happen.  Link a poem on Wednesday or Sunday or make a comment somewhere on one of our features.  Be present so we know you are still 'around.'  We really are all about community.

Remember to check back on Wednesday when Kim Nelson will post her prompt under the title Verse First.   I am excited about this and think you will be too.  Let's give her a great send-off Wednesday when Verse First is revealed for the first time.   Drumroll please!!

Meanwhile, this is Poetry Pantry, one of my favorite spaces to post during the poetic week.  I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your poem -- either a relatively new one or one from your archives.  Then visit other poets. That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too!  And hey, linking is only one part, visit one another too.

And, as always, please leave a comment in the comment section for us...and if you are an early poster, perhaps check back later and see what others have said! 

Also, if you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.


There 3 simple rules:

1. Link only 1 poem per week.  If you link more than one, anything after #1 will be removed.

2. Please visit several other poems linked here when you link to yours. Please
don't just link and run, waiting for others to visit you. 


3. Leave a comment after you have posted
your link.  I find that people who leave comments tend to be more participatory.  They wish to be part of the community.  A little of this goes a long way.  It feels good for all.




Friday, January 18, 2013

I Wish I'd Written This


Poems by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)  — or not

Some like it cold, some like it hot,
Some freeze while others smother —
And by some fearful, fatal plot
They marry one another.

I think the above is my very favourite Ogden Nash poem — but I can't find it via Google. I did find what I thought was my second-favourite, the famous:

What a wonderful bird is the pelican.
His beak holds more than his belican.
I wonder how the helican?

— and I also found that it is commonly misattributed to the wonderful Nash but is really by Dixon Lanire Merritt. I am quoting both of these from memory, and it seems the second had a few more lines, too, in the original by Merritt.

On the other hand, it appears that one of my favourite Dorothy Parker poems (so I thought) is really by Ogden Nash:

Candy
Is dandy
But liquor 
Is quicker.

He was greatly loved as America's foremost writer of light verse. Wikpedia tells me: 

'The US Postal Service released a postage stamp featuring Ogden Nash and six of his poems on the centennial of his birth on 19 August 2002. The six poems are "The Turtle," "The Cow," "Crossing The Border," "The Kitten," "The Camel" and "Limerick One." It was the first stamp in the history of the USPS to include the word "sex," although as a synonym for gender. It can be found under the "O" and is part of "The Turtle". The stamp is the 18th in the Literary Arts section. Four years later, the first issue took place in Baltimore on August 19. The ceremony was held at the home that he and his wife Frances shared with his parents on 4300 Rugby Road, where he did most of his writing.'




When I was a kid, my Dad had a book of Ogden Nash's poems. I have no idea what became of it, but it was one of my great favourites when I was growing up. As you can see, the short and pithy ones tickled my funny-bone most of all, but here is a longer, tongue-in-cheek piece I'd also love to have written — all the funnier for me because it concerns what are probably my favourite lines from Byron:


Very Like a Whale

One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by the authors of simile and 
metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can't seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have to
go out of their way to say that it is like something else.
What does it mean when we are told
That that Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?
In the first place, George Gordon Byron had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lot of 
Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and 
thus hinder longevity.
We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were 
gleaming in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a 
wolf on the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy 
there are great many things.
But I don't imagine that among them there is a wolf with purple 
and gold cohorts or purple and gold anythings.
No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was 
actually like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red 
mouth and big white teeth and did he say Woof Woof?
Frankly I think it is very unlikely, and all you were entitled to say, 
at the very most,
Was that the Assyrian cohorts came down like a lot of Assyrian 
cohorts about to destroy the Hebrew host.
But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he 
had to invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate them,
With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers
to people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot of
wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.
That's the kind of thing that's being done all the time by poets,
from Homer to Tennyson;
They're always comparing ladies to lilies and veal to venison,
And they always say things like that the snow is a white blanket
after a winter storm.
Oh it is, is it, all right then, you sleep under a six-inch blanket of
snow and I'll sleep under a half-inch blanket of unpoetical
blanket material and we'll see which one keeps warm,
And after that maybe you'll begin to comprehend dimly
What I mean by too much metaphor and simile. 


You can find more of Nash's poems here and a free down-loadable pdf file here. Also there is a printed selection of his poems on Amazon.



Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Wonder Wednesday #17 Wonder...

Dear Poets,

I was thinking how do I end my last post here on Poets United-when wonder struck me.  For one, I wanted to end on a wondrous note :D !   I have so enJOYed sharing prompts with you. All of your poems have inspired me, lifted and filled me with wisdom and insight.  I will still be writing poetry.  I have a busy family and some other artistic goals, I would like to play around with.  I loved offering prompts and I will miss it, but I will be on the other end-writing poems when the inspiration strikes.   Kim has graciously taken over and will be your new prompter on Wednesdays.  I know she will guide us in new ways and it is always good to have other voices and ideas.  I loved my time here.

For those of you, who don't know I have loved poetry since I discovered e.e. cummings,  in the fourth grade.  The wonder and magic in his words guided me.  High school and college English, also felt like home, when poetry was assigned.  Yet, I didn't write poetry for years.  I collected quotes and circled words in books that I felt struck a nerve.  Poetry wasn't part of my life, till Sherry dared me to write a poem and post it here, at Poets United.  I was so nervous and excited.  I felt like I had jumped into the deep end of the pool and wondered how would I fit in?!   All of you were gracious n' kind and welcomed me.   I have found poets to be like an extended family...a wonderful, warm family!   Thank you for being so generous to me!   Thank you Sherry for the dare ;D !


 And now our prompt-yes wonder, but not the ordinary kind.  I want you to think of the Seven Wonders of the World.  Here are some examples:

The Original Seven Wonders of the World

The Colossus of Rhodes
The Great Pyramid of Giza
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon
The Lighthouse of Alexandria
The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus
The Statue of Zeus at Olympia
The Temple of Artemis at Ephesus

The Seven Wonders of the Modern World

Channel Tunnel
CN Tower
Empire State Building
Golden Gate Bridge
Itaipu Dam
Netherlands North Sea Protection Works
Panama Canal
 

Natural Wonders of the World

In 1997, CNN announced a listing of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World... Grand Canyon
The Great Barrier Reef
The Harbor at Rio de Janeiro
Mt. Everest
Northern Lights
Paricutin Volcano
Victoria Falls

The "New" Seven Wonders of the World

On July 7, 2007 (7-7-07) an organization announced a "new" set of the Seven Wonders of the World based on online voting from around the world... Chichen Itza, Mexico - Mayan City
Christ Redeemer, Brazil - Large Statue
The Great Wall, China
Machu Picchu, Peru
Petra, Jordan - Ancient City
The Roman Colosseum, Italy
The Taj Mahal, India



You do not have to write about these. What I want is for you to write about an eighth wonder.  I see you are shaking your heads, lol!   An eighth wonder is a place that is filled with magic, for you!   It is your personal wonder, a place perhaps you escape to, that you find the most beautiful place on Earth.  Maybe wonder for you is a state of mind, or seeing people being kind.  Wonder is a gift and I would love you to share yours~

Thank you poets for being YOU, you all are the wonder that makes this blog a special place!   A warm thank you to Robert Lloyd who built our home, to Mary for all she does, Sherry for your interviews and insight, Kim and Rosemary and all the poets who have contributed and made this place a wondrous venture!    Thank you!   <3
 
  Sincerely, 
   Ella






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Monday, January 14, 2013

Life of a Poet ~ Simon Grady


 Kids, I'm sure you have made your way to the blog Now Is Never Wrong - writing on non-duality, where Simon Grady's smiling face beams out from the sidebar.  He graciously invited us to drop in for a visit, so we are zipping across the hemisphere to the South Island of New Zealand, where the scenery is spectacular enough to keep anyone smiling. Simon is serving NZ's popular drink, Fresh Up, and seating us near a bowl piled high with kiwi, oranges and avocadoes. Yum!



Poets United: Simon, you live in a very beautiful country. Want to give us a peek into A Day In the Life?



Sunday, January 13, 2013

Poets United Blog Roll

Good evening Poets,

If you are looking for the Poetry Pantry, just click back to the previous post.  It is still there!

I am going to begin next weekend going through the Poets United Blog Roll.  We want this blog roll to reflect CURRENT participants of Poets United.  Current means people who have participated in the last 6 weeks on either the Wednesday prompt or in the Poetry Pantry.

If you have not participated in this length of time, your blog will be dropped from the blog roll....as it is meant to reflect those who are active here.  And truly, it is quite easy to participate in Poetry Pantry which is an open link!

If you are a person who has not been active, I encourage you to participate in today's Poetry Pantry (still open) and / or this next Wednesday's prompt.  Some of you have had your blog roll listed for quite a while with no indication of current interest, so I can only assume you have moved on; and your blog will be taken off the roll.

If you are a new participant in Poets United and would like your blog added, do indicate this by clicking on the 'add blog' link in the upper right hand corner of Poets United!  If you are an active and participatory poet, we are looking for YOU!

Mary

Poetry Pantry #132

The Poetry Pantry
2nd Chance Poems or 1st time shares

Greetings, Poets!   Wonderful to see you this Sunday again. And I am looking forward to seeing what you are bringing to the Pantry to share today!

We are sorry about the technical glitches with Kim's Wednesday prompt.  The glitch is worked out, and it won't happen again.  Kim was new with Mr. Linky and then was heading out of town.  If you were not able to link your poem Wednesday, consider linking today in Poetry Pantry.

We have one more Wonder Wednesday prompt this coming week by Ella who has been prompting here for quite a while.  So when Ella prompts this Wednesday, let's be sure to give her to give her a 'high five' for all the great prompts she has given.  Thanks, Ella. After that, Kim Nelson will be in charge; and from her first prompt last Wednesday you know you have something to look forward to as well.  The name Wonder Wednesday will be changing (stay tuned), but the prompt will still be on Wednesday!  

One more thing.....I am going to be going through the blogroll shortly.  The blogroll is for people who are active here at Poets United.  I personally use it sometime when I want to see if any of our members have posted something new, and I then visit the blog.  I know Sherry Blue Sky does this too.  I hope YOU do this too.  If you are someone who is not active on PU for a period of time, eventually your blog will disappear from the list.  Don't let that happen.  Link a poem on Wednesday or Sunday or make a comment somewhere on one of our features.  Be present so we know you are still 'around.'  We really are all about community.

Meanwhile, this is Poetry Pantry, one of my favorite spaces to post during the poetic week.  I hope you look forward to it too.  Link your poem -- either a relatively new one or one from your archives.  Then visit other poets. That is part of the fun as well.  We really like it if you link back to Poets United too!

And, as always, please leave a comment in the comment section for us...and if you are an early poster, perhaps check back later and see what others have said!

Also, if you are on Facebook, look for us there as well. Join our site.  It is one more way to stay in touch!

And now...here is the procedure:  Each Sunday we start a new post with a New Mr. Linky for you. This is so that you can post a link to a poem in your blog. The link will close Monday at 12:00 p.m. (CDT), but you can still visit the links of those who have posted them.


There 3 simple rules:

1. Link only 1 poem per week.  If you link more than one, anything after #1 will be removed.

2. Please visit several other poems linked here when you link to yours. Please
don't just link and run, waiting for others to visit you. 


3. Leave a comment after you have posted
your link.  I find that people who leave comments tend to be more participatory.  They wish to be part of the community.  A little of this goes a long way.  It feels good for all.





Saturday, January 12, 2013

Classic Poetry ~ " Life " by Charlotte Brontë

Charlotte Brontë, 1816-1855

Best known for her novels (most notably Jane Eyre, first published under the pseudonym Currer Bell); Charlotte  Brontë was also a published poet who, along with her sisters Anne and Emily, contributed to two collections. All three young women achieved significant literary success before dying in their thirties, Emily and Anne of tuberculosis in 1848 and '49, respectively; Charlotte and her unborn child of typhus in 1855. In both poetry and fiction, Brontë was most successful when she broke new ground by presenting a distinctly female first-person perspective to a public readership. 

LIFE

LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly!

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!

Friday, January 11, 2013

I Wish I'd Written This


The Cap and Bells

By W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

The jester walked in the garden:   
The garden had fallen still;   
He bade his soul rise upward   
And stand on her window-sill.


It rose in a straight blue garment,   
When owls began to call:
It had grown wise-tongued by thinking   
Of a quiet and light footfall;


But the young queen would not listen;   
She rose in her pale night-gown;   
She drew in the heavy casement   
And pushed the latches down.


He bade his heart go to her,
When the owls called out no more;   
In a red and quivering garment   
It sang to her through the door.


It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming   
Of a flutter of flower-like hair;
But she took up her fan from the table   
And waved it off on the air.


'I have cap and bells,’ he pondered,   
'I will send them to her and die’;   
And when the morning whitened   
He left them where she went by.


She laid them upon her bosom,
Under a cloud of her hair,
And her red lips sang them a love-song   
Till stars grew out of the air.


She opened her door and her window,   
And the heart and the soul came through,   
To her right hand came the red one,   
To her left hand came the blue.


They set up a noise like crickets,   
A chattering wise and sweet,   
And her hair was a folded flower   
And the quiet of love in her feet.



   I've been in love with the poetry of William Butler Yeats since I first discovered it when I was 17, and I think he was one of the greatest poets of all time. I am not alone in this; he was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1923. 

   He was also one of the most romantic of poets, and I picked this piece for its lovely romanticism. Perhaps it was only in fantasy and allegory that he could bring the sorrows of love to such a fine, romantic conclusion as this. Poor Yeats was unhappy in love most of his life, yearning after the beloved of his youth, who didn't love him back for very long, It was only quite late in life that he found the right wife. So his love poems, though intense, tend to be sad, cynical or both. He was also a very political poet, but again his experiences tend to make his political poems angry or despairing. He was a spiritual seeker, and his spiritual life tended towards the magickal. (He was a prominent member of the Order of the Golden Dawn.) Love poems, political poems, spiritual/magickal poems — no wonder I like him. He even wrote some poems with considerable feminist sensitivity.

   Yet what he creates above all is beauty. He excels at it; there's no-one to touch him. He began as the most lyrical and musical of poets. In his maturity he explored uglier, tougher moods and topics, but never lost that beauty of language in which he is supreme.

   You can judge for yourself by reading some of his poems at Poets.org or buying his Collected Poems from Amazon. 



Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written This’ remain the property of the copyright holders (usually their authors).


Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Wonder Wednesday ~ Upon Reflection

Reflecting Pool, National Arboretum, Washington DC 

Welcome to Wonder Wednesday, where simple notions prompt amazing poems. 

Today's notion?

REFLECTION



 World Financial Center, Battery Park NYC


Consider the word reflection and all its varied meanings. You could write about the action of bending or folding back; or refer to the consideration of an idea or particular subject matter. A reflection can be an image mirrored back to you or an effect produced by an influence. So many angles. So many meanings. So much to reflect upon. In fact, Merriam-Webster suggests this simple word has 9 distinctly different meanings. Which inspires you?

Take this information, or one of the images I've offered up, and create a poem about reflection. Post the poem on your website, then use Mr. Linky to share it with us. Feel free to leave a comment below, and be sure to enjoy the reflective creations of your fellow poets by visiting and commenting on one another's work.  



Candles, Window-side
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Thank You! ~Kim



Monday, January 7, 2013

Blog of the Week - Another Porch

Kids, this week we are happy to feature Janet Martin, of Another Porch, as our Blog of the Week. Janet, a Canadian living in Southern Ontario, writes wonderful poetry, and is very accomplished at writing form poetry, a talent I admire greatly. You will also find magnificent photos on her blog, showing the beauty of her area. She tells us she is a mother and wife, "one husband and four kids rich." Janet describes herself as a "lover of moments in the music of life", and her poetry often features her appreciation of nature's beauty and her gratitude for all of God's Creation. 



Here is one of Janet's poems  that I enjoyed in the last few weeks:




Embrace them,
All those beautiful ordinaries
Shaping our toil and strife
Embrace them
For beautiful ordinaries
Shape a life

Embrace them
The endless clean-up
and clutter
The chatter, the scatter
Of shoes, back-packs,
The scolding of Mother
Embrace them
The beautiful ordinaries
To which we become blind
Because in the still of retrospect
The ordinaries bind
The scattered fragments
Of duty’s strife
To color the pages
Of a beautiful life

© Janet Martin

and another:



There is no sturdy bulwark for the heart
To guard it from the boldness of your sigh
There is no sentinel to stand on guard
Or seal the echo dripping from the sky
Caught in the throat of midnight’s moody breeze
The elements of love and longing seep
For none can thwart the flow of memories
They rise and fall like billows of the deep
As yesterday puts on the muted robe
Of centuries that form the silent dust
The milkweed flings its silk across the globe
Heedless of where its silver seed is thrust
But we, the author of our private woes
Can never its full direness disclose

***

Wrapped in the velvet pleasure of your thought
Is all the goodness of this world I ask
It compensates for all the ‘what-is-not’
The mind is surely a mysterious flask
I lift my glass up to the weeping air
The wine of retrospect is bitter-sweet
The shadow-lull of summer’s empty chair
Are phantom waves receding from my feet
I trace the words you brushed against my cheek
Time cannot steal the laughter from love’s grin
Or snuff the whisper of the thoughts we speak
We seal their touch in vaults beneath our skin
For we, the keepers of love’s kind caress
Must cherish it with sacred tenderness

***

Life paints upon the canvas of our souls
Its intimate and panoramic art
Where none can hear the murmur that consoles
Or runs translucent fingers through the heart
And no one else can see the artist’s brush
The feathering of light against the dark
Or how the colors whirl and swirl and rush
In passion-surge where there is no bulwark
What color are the tears that midnight weeps?
Who shapes the imprint of our deepest sigh?
Or tears the lining from our hidden deep
Who lights the spark of wisdom in our eye?
We are the lone spectators of its whole
As life paints memories upon the soul

© Janet Martin

Isn't that beautiful? and still one more:


What is longing, this inferno
Burning, yearning hunger
This groaning internal reaching
For what?

Is longing
Self-induced affliction
Carnal appetite?
Or is it holy hungry
Of things spiritual,
out of sight?

What is longing?
It cries, un-heard
Un-hushed
Weeping in the dead of night
Moaning in the noon-day rush

What is longing?
Is it folly?
or is it real?
Is it perchance, earth’s lonely sorrow
That only Heaven can heal?

© Janet Martin



There are many more beautiful poems at Another Porch, so do drop by and explore. Janet, thank you for the beauty you remind us is all around, by writing what the view is like from your porch, through your eyes.