Author Topic: Poetry Page  (Read 755707 times)

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1520 on: June 03, 2010, 01:22:54 PM »


Cuttings


~ Michael P. Garofalo

Ahh, the wide almond groves in full white flower
Stunning in the morning sun.
Old naked Winter in
his garb of grays and browns has run.
Forsythia blooms
Come and go in the blink of a yellow Eye,
Then, suddenly, mysteriously,
Green erupts; and we sigh.



We would love you to Join us
As we celebrate Spring!


Discussion Leaders: Barb & fairanna

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1521 on: June 03, 2010, 08:38:22 PM »
Barb:  Each translation has some charm  but they all miss the mark somehow.  I suspect that there is too much adherence to the literal leaving out the soul.  Although maybe it is the original which lacks substance.  The scheme of repeated lines is an interesting extra.  As always, you have provided us with fascinating intellectual stimulation.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1522 on: June 03, 2010, 08:48:06 PM »
Yes, it is type of poetry that I have forgotten its name - but  you take every other line and repeat them as the first and third line in the next stanza and so forth... I need to look it up... reading the poem in French there is a lovely ending to the lines that just is not coming through in the translations. English is so much more guttural than French and it is poetry that calls our attention to the difference.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1523 on: June 03, 2010, 08:53:02 PM »
here we go - the poem form is called Pantoum

Quote
Brought to the West by Victor Hugo, the pantoum is derived from a Malaysian form of interlocking four-line stanzas in which lines 2 and 4 of one stanza are used as lines 1 and 3 of the next. The lines may be of any length, and the poem can go on for an indefinite number of stanzas. Usually the paired lines are also rhymed. The form may be resolved at the end either by picking up lines 1 and 3 of the first stanza as lines 2 and 4 of the last, thus closing the circle of the poem, or simply by closing with a rhymed couplet.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

Babi

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1524 on: June 04, 2010, 09:03:42 AM »
 I think I prefer the Stevenson to the Baudelaire.  That repeated pick=up of
previous lines rather annnoyed me.  A personal quirk, I think. I never
liked retracing my steps or repeating my words.
"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1525 on: June 05, 2010, 08:06:17 PM »
Sub Rosa
           ~ Niko Tiliopoulos

I missed the Spring.
I fell asleep under the shadows of my desires,
with mandolin sounds for lullabies
and my grandfather’s pipe,
in dreams dressed in herbal smoke and honey scents
and the beauty of my loved ones.

I missed the Spring.
I was late for my soul,
too late for a song,
deceived by the lotus flowers
and the smiles of the sirens,
their seductive bodies waving my sanity away.

I missed the Spring.
The ring of oblivion was Time’s gift,
a nursery rhyme’s forgotten curse,
here like now, absent like never,
a colourless rainbow reflection
on eyes of sadness.

I missed the Spring.
I woke up in the slumbers of my regrets,
by tribal drumbeats for breakfast
and my grandmother’s tales,
in a reality stripped of hope and home warmth,
well worth the loneliness of a poem.

I missed the Spring.
 
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1526 on: June 05, 2010, 08:10:03 PM »
Summons         
          -  Ann McGough,

Wisteria woke me this morning,
And there was all June in the garden;
I felt them, early, warning
Lest I miss any part of the day.

Straight I walked to the trellis vine.
Wisteria touched a lifted nostril:
Feelings of beauty diffused, to entwine
My spirit with June's own aura.

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1527 on: June 05, 2010, 08:11:34 PM »
In June
          -   Nora Perry

So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

Babi

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1528 on: June 06, 2010, 08:32:42 AM »
 Here's my contribution...another place, another time...

  "I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel
The full deliciousness of this bright day,
That's like a heart with nothing to conceal;
The young leaves scarcely trembling; the blue-grey
Rimming the cloudless ether far away;
Brairds, hedges, shadows; mountains that reveal
Soft sapphire; this great floor of polished steel
Spread out amidst the landmarks of the bay.

I stoop in sunshine to our circling net
From the black gunwale; tend these milky kine
Up their rough path; sit by yon cottage-door
Plying the diligent thread; take wings and soar--
O hark how with the season's laureate
Joy culminates in song! If such a song were mine!"

-   William Allingham, On a Forenoon of Spring

 

"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1529 on: June 06, 2010, 01:27:25 PM »
All of the above?  Sublime.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1530 on: June 06, 2010, 02:24:44 PM »
Remember this sing song from early grade school...?

Summer is coming
Summer is coming
How do you think I know?
I found some pussy willows
So I know it must be so.


And of course that was always followed by

I know a little pussy
her coat is silver gray
Who lives down in the meadow
Not very far away.
She'll always be a pussy,
She'll never be a cat
For she's a pussy willow
Now what do you think of that.

All part of the fantasy of what June was supposed to be as compared to the typical high 90s in Texas with the last of the garden growing before we nurse it along shading it and ourselves from the searing hot sun.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1531 on: June 12, 2010, 12:17:58 PM »
Summer's Coming
          ~ Sophie Shaw

In my head I hear a humming,
Summer, summer summer's coming,
Soon we're going on vacation,
But there is a complication,
Day by day the problem's growing,
We don't know yet where we're going,

Mother likes the country best,
That's so she can read and rest,
Dad thinks resting is a bore,
He's for fishing at the shore,
Sister says swimming's cool,
Swimming in the swimming pool,
I don't care,
I'd be happy anywhere,

In my head I hear a humming,
Summer, summer, summer's coming,
Soon we're going on vacation,
But we have a complication,
Day by day the problem's growing,
Where oh where will we be going?



“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1532 on: June 12, 2010, 12:24:29 PM »
Down by the Salley Gardens
          ~ W.B. Yeats

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her did not agree.
 
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.


"Salley" is an anglicisation of the Irish saileach, meaning willow. Willows are known as "salleys", "sallies" or "salley trees" in parts of Ireland
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1533 on: June 12, 2010, 12:30:16 PM »
He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
         ~ W.B.  Yeats

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread upon my dreams.


“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1534 on: June 12, 2010, 12:55:07 PM »
Summer in the South
by Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
Timid, and hesitating.
The rain comes down in a torrent sweep
And the nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1535 on: June 12, 2010, 01:43:42 PM »
Only a week away from Summer and already we have rain in torrents - not the deaths, thank goodness, of Arkansas but several nearby communities are stripping out what is left after a couple of rivers and creeks raced over their banks because of 12" of rain in a couple of hours.

Haven't had raisin pie in years - not cooking and baking as I did at one time there are many dishes I forget about making -

Raisin Pie
          ~ Edgar Guest

THERE'S a heap of pent-up goodness in the yellow bantam corn,
And I sort o' like to linger round a berry patch at morn;
Oh, the Lord has set our table with a stock o' things to eat
An' there's just enough o' bitter in the blend to cut the sweet,
But I run the whole list over, an' it seems somehow that I
Find the keenest sort o' pleasure in a chunk o' raisin pie.

There are pies that start the water circulatin' in the mouth;
There are pies that wear the flavor of the warm an' sunny south;
Some with oriental spices spur the drowsy appetite
An' just fill a fellow's being with a thrill o' real delight;
But for downright solid goodness that comes drippin' from the sky
There is nothing quite the equal of a chunk o' raisin pie.

I'm admittin' tastes are diff'runt, I'm not settin' up myself
As the judge an' final critic of the good things on the shelf.
I'm sort o' payin' tribute to a simple joy on earth,
Sort o' feebly testifyin' to its lasting charm an' worth,
An' I'll hold to this conclusion till it comes my time to die,
That there's no dessert that's finer than a chunk o' raisin pie.



“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

Babi

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1536 on: June 13, 2010, 08:22:01 AM »
Love the Dunbar poem.  For some reason the Yeats poem puts me in mind of the epitaphs of an old New England couple.  I don't remember
exactly how his went, but it was on the order of "Here lies John __,
poet, philosopher, dreamer."  Beside him his wife's read: "Here lies
Elizabeth ___, long-suffering wife of John ___".

  Remember this one?

  Who Ever Felt as I

Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true;
All other men may use deceit:
He always said my eyes were blue,
And often swore my lips were sweet
- Walter Savage Landor
"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1537 on: June 13, 2010, 11:06:41 AM »
Having trouble with my Browser; I wanted to post Houseman's poem which starts:
When I was one-and-twenty . . .
The Landor suggested it though I'm not sure I understand Landor.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

bellemere

  • Posts: 862
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1538 on: June 13, 2010, 12:03:40 PM »
I spent Friday afternoon with a friend touring Emily Dickinson's garden in Amherst.  A small crowd was doing the house tour and we had the garden to ourselves, with audio wands commenting on the grounds as they were: Richard Wilbur reciting appropriate poems; and a landscape architect identifying some of the plantings.  Sad to say, the garden is overgrown, weedy, almost nothing in bloom.  Her house connects, by way of a wooded path, to her brother's. who , with his wife, constituted Amherst's "high society" of the time, while Emily became more and more reclusive.

Within my Garden rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel-
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a traveling Mill.

He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose-
\Partakes without alighting
\And praises as he goes.
Till every spice is tased
And then his Fairy Gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres
And I rejoin my Dog.

Ane he and I perplex us
If positive were we
Or bore the Garden in the Brain
This Curiosity.

But He, the best Logician
Refers my clumsy Eye
To just vibrating blossoms!
An Exquisite Reply.

Well, there's Emily .  Obscure as usual.  As far as I can figure out, she and the dog try to figure out where the humjmingbird went and the ony clue is the trembling blossoms. I guess you could spend a lifetime figuring out her metaphors.  I so like her final words on her deathbed: "I must go in.  The fog is rising."

After an hour listening to that rhythm, I was inspired to tell the rectitionist why my friend was late in returning her audio wand

She lingered on the Wodland Path-
She did not note thetime.
Her Stomach does not feel the Pangs
Of Hunger, as does mine.

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1539 on: June 13, 2010, 12:17:23 PM »
Here it is:

When I was one-and-twenty
  I heard a wise man say,
`Give crowns and pounds and guineas
  But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
  But keep your fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty
  No use to talk to me.
 
When I was one-and-twenty
  I heard him say again,
`The heart out of the bosom
  Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
  And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty
  And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

A E Houseman
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1540 on: June 13, 2010, 01:50:04 PM »
 Bellemere I saw In TV that the NY Botanical Gardens has re-created Emily's garden - sounds like they needed to dispatch some of their experts to liven up her garden in Massachusetts.

So glad  you found the Houseman Jackie - The heart...was never given in vain. Lovely thought that  brings hope and courage to say what is in our hearts.

Ouch Babi - sounds like she is grieving a betrayal and looking for comfort from mom.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1541 on: June 13, 2010, 02:37:58 PM »
Houseman seems to be aware of age - here  is another speaking to age.

"Loveliest of Trees"
 
LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now   
Is hung with bloom along the bough,   
And stands about the woodland ride   
Wearing white for Eastertide.   
   
Now, of my threescore years and ten,         
Twenty will not come again,   
And take from seventy springs a score,   
It only leaves me fifty more.   
   
And since to look at things in bloom   
Fifty springs are little room,   
About the woodlands I will go   
To see the cherry hung with snow.

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1542 on: June 13, 2010, 02:42:04 PM »
I thought I knew Robert Lewis Stevenson - lo and behold I found this...

Spring Carol
           ~ Robert Louis Stevenson (1918)
 
When loud by landside streamlets gush,
And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush,
With sun on the meadows
And songs in the shadows
Comes again to me
The gift of the tongues of the lea,
The gift of the tongues of meadows.

Straightway my olden heart returns
And dances with the dancing burns;
It sings with the sparrows;
To the rain and the (grimy) barrows
Sings my heart aloud—
To the silver-bellied cloud,
To the silver rainy arrows.

It bears the song of the skylark down,
And it hears the singing of the town;
And youth on the highways
And lovers in byways
Follows and sees:
And hearkens the song of the leas
And sings the songs of the highways.

So when the earth is alive with gods,
And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,
And the flowers smile in the shadows,
Sits my heart at ease,
Hearing the song of the leas,
Singing the songs of the meadows.

 
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1543 on: June 13, 2010, 02:54:25 PM »
This is written by Rita Dove, the current United States Poet Laureate. Her work seems almost as obscure as the work of our prolific Emily.

The Fish in the Stone

The fish in the stone
would like to fall
back into the sea.

He is weary
of analysis, the small
predictable truths.
He is weary of waiting
in the open,
his profile stamped
by a white light.


In the ocean the silence
moves and moves
and so much is unnecessary!


Patient, he drifts
until the moment comes
to cast his
skeletal blossom.


The fish in the stone
knows to fail is
to do the living
a favor.


He knows why the ant
engineers a gangster's
funeral, garish
and perfectly amber.
He knows why the scientist
in secret delight
strokes the fern's
voluptuous braille.




“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

bellemere

  • Posts: 862
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1544 on: June 13, 2010, 04:21:09 PM »
I loved the Stevenson poem , so full of joy, no forebodings or regrets!  and what is Rita Dove's fish in the stone? maybe a fossilized imprint of a fish? 
I would love to get down to thebotanical Garden to see that garden exhibit.  Just too far to drive for me.  and Amtrak doesn't stop in the
Bronx.

Babi

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1545 on: June 14, 2010, 08:20:10 AM »
 JACKIE, to me the Landor is, in a nutshell, a girl seduced and finding,
like many before her, that seducer's are deceitful. The Houseman poems are both old favorites.

 May I say I greatly enjoyed your post, BELLE. Especially the impromptu
verse at the end.
  Would you believe I didn't even know we had a U.S. Poet Laureate now?
 Oh, yeah. The fish, the ant and the fern...all fossilized.
"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1546 on: June 15, 2010, 12:35:10 PM »
Palestinian Spring in the Mist of Time
          ~ By Genevieve Cora Fraser

It is late the moon glows
Warmly among the stars
A Palestinian man sits quietly
Sipping tea pouring seeds
Through his fingers
Sifting through thoughts
Calculates planting
Hope for a season
Of peace
 
His wife hovers nearby
Concerned for his safety
As he slips out planting
In the dimly lit field
Dreams cast danger
From his task at hand
A settler watches
From a distance
Strike now
Or wait
 
Behind the hill
A caterpillar
Revved to life
Flashes bright
Lights
Blasts past
The grove
Bears down
The field
To the man
Sowing
Caught
In the headlight
A bullet flashes
Death against
The spring
Emerging
His wife
Clutches
Their child
As the walls
Collapse
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1547 on: June 15, 2010, 12:38:35 PM »
The Dark Day
           ~ William Carlos Williams.

A three-day-long rain from the east--
an terminable talking, talking
of no consequence--patter, patter, patter.
Hand in hand little winds
blow the thin streams aslant.
Warm. Distance cut off. Seclusion.
A few passers-by, drawn in upon themselves,
hurry from one place to another.
Winds of the white poppy! there is no escape!--
An interminable talking, talking,
talking . . .it has happened before.
Backward, backward, backward.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1548 on: June 15, 2010, 03:05:55 PM »
Barb:  Are you all right?  Those poems are mournful cries of woe.  I hope the woe is only in the newspaper headlines and not coming from your heart.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1549 on: June 15, 2010, 07:57:42 PM »
Jackie I've been in a funk that is added to by the general atmosphere and news on every front - the vitriolic nature of so many who cannot see past the tip of their own nose is beyond disturbing - I feel as if I am caught in the oil at the bottom of the gulf shore with no relief in sight.

I've also been experiencing a crisis in faith as I am in the middle of heavy research of the first 1000  years of the Christian church - had no idea it is all based in politics - never really understood state religion and how that mingles the power of church and state and how in the name of politics both have perminantly altered what we are taught is truth.

I have to make some decisions to change where and how I live. Without a clear picture of who I am anylonger I am scrapping the barrel. Plus my eyes are becoming more of a problem - actually i can be thankful that I am not plagued with many of the typical illnesses that is part of the daily challenge for many seniors.

And so yes, I see and find poets have spoken to the sadness and terminal pain, anger, oppression, reactive aggression, losses that here lately have reared up from just under the surface into broad daylight.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

Babi

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1550 on: June 16, 2010, 08:41:20 AM »
Oh, Barb, that Fraser poem is a real downer. I'm sitting here with my
face all screwed up in dismay. And then Williams writes of 'no escape'.
Oh, dear. 
  I understand your dismay about the history of the Church.  I've been
aware of this for many years now, but also learned to make a distinction between the man-made institution and the faith that gave
rise to it.
 
"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1551 on: June 16, 2010, 01:55:49 PM »
Although I am not religious I take comfort the "church is a hospital for sinners and not a museum for saints."  So I guess you could say my faith is in the spirit of religion and not in the letter since so few people seem to live literally y the words of Jesus.  I agree with Babi that institutions are creations of men and subject to the same failings that men in general are prey to.  I would also say that you may trust in yourself and your experiences of the past umpty-uump years.  You are an intelligent woman and at your core you are strong and wise else you would not have survived your life until now.  Do not deny the essential Barb, she is in there, waiting for you to see what is in front of your own eyes.  And know that you have faithful companions who believe in you, namely Babi and I.  Though we are separated by distance, you are in my heart.  The grandeur and beauty of Nature is my greatest comfort, the inevitability of the sea and its tides. the beauty of the sun-rise and -set, the majesty of plants and flowers, the interconnectedness of all life, it is a beautiful world and though we are trying to destroy it, Nature will triumph.  You are not alone.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

bellemere

  • Posts: 862
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1552 on: June 16, 2010, 06:33:24 PM »
I'm on the same journey Barb.  As Julian Barnes says,
"I don't believe in God, but I miss him"
the role that Jackie assigns to Nature, I find in music as well. 
Institutionalized religion has lost all appeal for me, and I have been doing a lot of studying and thinking. Barnes is one; The Consolations of Philosophy Another; Fifty Reasons People Give for Believing in a god, still another.  Of course, I realize that reading and informing myself of the thoughts of others on this subject does not mean enlightenment.  But as my devout friends say  " Faith is a gift."
But isn't doubt a gift also?

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1553 on: June 16, 2010, 10:51:58 PM »
When you feel that you have lost your support system, concentrate on what you know is true and that will help you reintegrate your beliefs with the real world.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

Babi

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1554 on: June 17, 2010, 08:46:10 AM »
  I can gratefully say that I do believe in God and I don't think He is at
all bothered when we question what we are taught.  If I question, then
I study and explore and come out with a better and firmer understanding. 

  The beginning of wisdom is found in doubting; by doubting we come to the question, and by seeking we may come upon the truth.
Pierre Abelard
 

"I go to books and to nature as a bee goes to the flower, for a nectar that I can make into my own honey."  John Burroughs

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1555 on: June 17, 2010, 03:21:50 PM »
Thanks for all  your words of wisdom - poetry outside of the humanities does not seem to be our makeup and I am grateful.

I had come to terms with what brought me peace and acceptance of my earthly limits that included the realization I could not change others - I turned to St. John of the Cross' 'Dark Night of the Soul' and 'Ascent on Mount Carmel' along with writings from and about the Tao and I set aside regular time for contemplation. This was my bedrock through the times with life hit me a blow I was unprepared for and had to deal with.

I wish now I had left well enough alone - however, a knee jerk reaction that I did not see coming - only in hindsight have I realized, I did it again. I have a very good friend who is easily angered because the Pope, the Bishops or this belief and that belief - on and on her reaction is to angrily blame. Well when folks are blaming and I know just enough to be dangerous, rather than disagree I need all the facts and so I started to read, one book after the other. I even purchased from the Teaching Company sets of tapes on the history of the Popes and the History of the Bible, the History of the New and Old Testament - so far I have read almost 2 dozen books - the kind you cannot get through without a dictionary next to you and in some cases I had to fish out my old Latin Dictionary. Glory only knows what I did with my high school Greek dictionary but I could have used it.

While reading my mouth dropped over and over as I learned how politics is the basis for most of our Christian beliefs. The politics is unbelievable brutality during the first 700 years of Christian to Christian toward those who did not share the current views Especially explaining the Trinity and who Jesus was in relationship to God, the Word and the Blessed mother.

I was startled with some of the early cannons - I had no idea that many of the Deacons who were most often the personal in charge of maintaining the physical buildings, things, finances were eunuchs and how a Canon written during Chalcedon in 451 said only those eunuchs that it was done to them or it was a health care choice could be ordained as priests.  Not sure what I think but certainly not what I expected.

Then the Bible and what books were included and how the names Mathew, Mark, Luke and John were simply added and how the Mathew was written only 2 years after the total sacking of Jerusalem in 69/70 AD. It would be like someone in Germany after WWII - not someone from the allied forces but the looser, Germany - writing about a revered leader during WWI when Germany was also a looser. Difference the years between WWII and WWI were less than 40, which is the time between the Roman Persecutions at the time of Jesus and the sacking of Jerusalem. I suspect the circumstances would bring a tone to the author's memory

I know, this is not a religious discussion but all of this and more has me by the tail - at least I know the things that many folks blame the Pope and church for were actually as a result of the king or emperor, other raids and the history of the Mediterranean.  I realized the common stories of today have been exaggerated - However, to learn that not only the church but what we are taught as truth is man-made as a result of politics and the brutal treatment to death and the destruction of property for those with another viewpoint makes me question if the entire Church is a house of cards - I think the straw breaker is to learn of the closing and sacking of Plato's school in Rome so that the only reason we have his writings to day is because some Persians whisked the tablets and scrolls off and translated them which were hundreds of  years later found and translated again.

I could go on and on with all I have learned and it sounds like Babi you indicated you found this out some years ago. No, I did not faithfully attend church services but there were certain books and authors that gave me a perspective on life as well as a connection to my inner self. I know, because of this search I can at least paste a smile on my face when others rile knowing half the time they are going off half-cocked.

Difficult in all this is scrapping off yet one more piece of myself - there has been much of me built on faith and trust in others and what I was taught or told - I navigated my life based on this trust and the teachings I incorporated into my basic DNA, to use a current allegory. I have little time or use of blame, hurt or anger and just want to get on with identifying who I am. It looks like Jackie I need to decide what is true and now I am doubting so much I have to pick through the rubble and gather the small bits.

Ah yes, Bellemere, Boethius - and the Fifty Reasons... we are all on in a different place in our journey - I have a comfortable justification of God which for me is a cosmic power without duality. What I want is a way to celebrate or offer adoration - which is really more about me than injecting an influence toward a cosmic power.

It is like celebrating 4th of July - each town has its own traditions and ceremony although, we are all united in our dependence and gratification for the work incorporated in the Declaration of Independence. If we learn shocking untold aspects of how that document came about and the character of those engaged at the time and how some of the traditions were to put-it-up someone's nose who disagreed with chosen wording it takes the tarnish off the day's celebration and the question becomes not only what does this nation stand for but, what is it I am pledging to when I pledge my Allegiance. And yet, where I would be amazed and disjointed learning about the politics of our nation's independence it is not as much of a blow. I believe it has something to do with how I did not expect our beliefs about God were political agreements.
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1556 on: June 17, 2010, 08:27:29 PM »
I was raised loosely as a Methodist, Sunday School for my sister and me while parents stayed in bed.  Typical teen-age rejection of organized religion followed by degree in sociology cemented my convictions.  My sister married into the Catholic Church and was a dedicated convert until the sex scandals broke out.  She has left the Church and found comfort in the Episcopal church, similarities to the rituals she is comfortable with but clean of scandal.  As a feminist I find it positive that the priests are allowed to marry and that women may become priests show not blind obedience but careful consideration of peoples' needs and the changes that occur society.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1557 on: June 17, 2010, 11:39:37 PM »
Jackie I am beginning to think that is the obstacle - the times we live in as compared to what folks believed about themselves and the alignment of power during the first couple of centuries. I bet if I read all the material I 'consumed' a couple of hundred years ago I would not be so shocked and floored the way folks act toward each other and how the come to an understanding and accept the thinking of a majority or a powerful minority.

It is difficult to read without jaundiced eyes the behavior of folks over 1500 years ago as compared to today - in fact, accepted behavior of 150 years ago often shocks us never mind as your sister has made her statement about the out of control mouth dropping, outrageous behavior of today.

One interesting  book I read explained how for the most part western society operates in four cultures. Some of us include aspects of all four and others of us mix or match from the four. The book includes when in history the culture was most prevalent and how the culture is expressed –

An example of Prophetic culture today is the Martin Luther King Jr. speech ‘I have a Dream” as if throwing across a divide what will be - excluding a plan or examined reason.

The culture of scholarship - The production and the transmission of knowledge – basic to Universities, Creativity, The Law, Science including  physical, chemical and the natural universe disciplines.

The humanities – a culture of scholarship that is centered in the human experience that cover subjects such as literature, philosophy, foreign languages

The Arts – how we express ourselves – Poetry, music, theater, architecture, sculpture. Defining and creating beauty in a beautiful way.

The example offered - after spending several years studying in Rome the author was returning to the  US and brought to the Vatican post office – used by most Italians because of its competence – He brought a box of books and other mementoes that he expected to have the proper outside packaging arranged at the post office. The service worker – in typical Roman style - shook his head and with an easy flourish, as if watching a ballet he lightening fast wrapped in paper tied with raffia using attractive knots each and every item – it was so beautiful that when the box arrived in the US everyone had stopped to admire the box and its contents - He did not want to dismantle the box of his belongings till he had his fill of taking in the beauty and the memory of the creation.

Of those four cultures, I realize I am not strong in a prophetic view of the world but the others are up my alley and I also see why I miss so the old Latin Mass that was like theater. We did not have TV and movies were not attended regularly – but the Mass with the glorious music, candles, incense, beautiful vestments in a ballet like performance overlaid with Latin echoing through the building – ah yes, my childhood theatre. . .
“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ~ Goethe

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1558 on: June 18, 2010, 02:25:35 PM »
Barb:  The book on the four cultures sounds like one I really want to read, much like sociology.  Is it scholarly, with data and statistics, or like pop science, no footnotes, etc? 

My sister left the Church because of the lying and cover-ups. As reprehensible as the abuse was, it was the coldly calculated assessment that the Church counted for more than the victims, the children, whose lives had been ruined.  Her appetite for ritual and pageantry found a home in Episcopalia.

It seems to be universally true of the Western religions that the institution must be maintained and expanded at the cost of the individual.  Eastern philosophies, though I know little about them, are much more appealing to me.  I do know some Buddhists and they are gentle and non-judgmental about their fellows. 
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1559 on: June 18, 2010, 02:57:55 PM »
Some zen poems:

Enlightenment is like the moon reflected on the water.
The moon does not get wet, nor is the water broken.
Although its light is wide and great,
The moon is reflected even in a puddle an inch wide.
The whole moon and the entire sky
Are reflected in one dewdrop on the grass.
Dogen

If you want to be free,
Get to know your real self.
It has no form, no appearance,
No root, no basis, no abode,
But is lively and buoyant.
It responds with versatile facility,
But its function cannot be located.
Therefore when you look for it,
You become further from it;
When you seek it,
You turn away from it all the more.
- Linj

Do not go after the past,
Nor lose yourself in the future.
For the past no longer exists,
And the future is not yet here.
By looking deeply at things just as they are,
In this moment, here and now,
The seeker lives calmly and freely.
You should be attentive today,
For waiting until tomorrow is too late.
Death can come and take us by surprise--
How can we gainsay it?
The one who knows
How to live attentively
Night and day
Is the one who knows
The best way to be independent.
-   Bhaddekaratta Sutra
    In the Pocket Buddha Reader, edited by Anne Bancroft

There is more faith in an honest doubt,
Believe me,
than in half the creeds.

-   Alfred Lord Tennyson

He who owns a garden,
However small it be,
Whose hands have planted in it
Flower or Bush or Tree;
He who watches patiently
The growth from nurtured,
Who thrills a newly opened bloom
Is very close to God
-   Katherine Edelman, He Who Owns a Garden

And, finally:

Pippa's Song

The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven--
All's right with the world!

Robert Browning
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke