Author Topic: Poetry Page  (Read 755679 times)

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1720 on: July 29, 2010, 01:04:22 AM »
Celebrate Summer With Us!
The Poetry Page.
Our haven for words that open our hearts.



In The Summer
by Nizar Qabbani

In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me.



Discussion Leaders: BarbStAubrey & Fairanna



Here ya go - thanks for the suggestion...

THINGS SHOULDN'T BE SO HARD
          ~ Kay Ryan

A life should leave
deep tracks:
ruts where she
went out and back
to get the mail
or move the hose
around the yard;
where she used to
stand before the sink,
a worn-out place;
beneath her hand
the china knobs
rubbed down to
white pastilles;
the switch she
used to feel for
in the dark
almost erased.
Her things should
keep her marks.
The passage
of a life should show;
it should abrade.
And when life stops,
a certain space—
however small —
should be left scarred
by the grand and
damaging parade.
Things shouldn't
be so hard.
“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 #1721 on: July 29, 2010, 08:50:52 AM »
I had to go see what a Copper Canyon Daisy looked like, BARB. I
wouldn't have recognized it as a daisy, and I was intrigued to read that
it had an aroma that kept deer away. The perfect solution for people
trying to keep deer out of their gardens.

  I loved the Thomas Hardy. I wish I could take that walk he describes.
And, of course, hear the 'little fifers'.

  Oh, I like that Kay Ryan poem about the traces of a life. Thanks for
finding it for us, BARB.  And thanks to TOME for steering us 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

Tomereader1

  • Posts: 1870
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1722 on: July 29, 2010, 10:46:43 AM »
WHen I first read that Ryan poem, I just sat and cried.  The thoughts of course of my own mother.

I do have it printed out, and I refer to it often.  Even took it to our f2f library group's "poetry night" which we had in February,and I believe I posted here about it.
The reading of a fine book is an uninterrupted dialogue in which the book speaks and our soul replies.


André Maurois

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1723 on: July 29, 2010, 12:23:35 PM »
To be so moved by words - it appears Ryan's words opened  your memories Tomereader - some tears are thankful reminders of the ache in our hearts.

Here is a link to a nice photo of a Copper Canyon Daisy in bloom - they do have a strong and pleasent in an odd way scent - just brushing up against the feathery leaves and your hands or leg or whatever touched the plant carries the scent for hours till you wash. The hotter and dryer the summer the more this plant multiplies till it bursts forth in late October right through till after the holidays and the first real frost.

http://www.maggiesgarden.com/Plant_Profiles/Plant_This/Tagetes_lemonii/tagetes_lemonii.html

I didn't know that Mark Twain wrote poetry - it stands to reason but just never read any of his poetic attempts till I came across this bit...

Warm Summer Sun
          ~ by Mark Twain

Warm summer sun,
    Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
    Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
    Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
    Good night, good night.
“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 #1724 on: July 30, 2010, 08:43:05 AM »
A soft and gentle good-bye.  I wouldn't have thought the acerbic Mark
Twain had that in him.
   This poem is long, but I'm going to post it anyway. I think it is worth reading.

A Litany in Time of Plague     
by Thomas Nashe 

 Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss;
This world uncertain is;
Fond are life's lustful joys;
Death proves them all but toys;
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!

Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade.
All things to end are made,
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye.
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!

Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate,
Earth still holds open her gate.
"Come, come!" the bells do cry.
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!

Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death's bitterness;
Hell's executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply.
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!

Haste, therefore, each degree,
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player's stage;
Mount we unto the sky.
I am sick, I must die.
    Lord, have mercy on us!
"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 #1725 on: July 30, 2010, 12:57:43 PM »
babi:  A reminder that we are going to die.  We are "sick" with life, whose prognosis is always death.In spite of which Life is the only game.  (Have I missed any appropriate cliches?  Please advise.)  The power of this poem, over and above the impact of the words, is the cadence of the refrain, seeming to accumulate more voices with each repetition until, the last verse it seems as if the chorus is almost shouting. 
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 #1726 on: July 30, 2010, 06:16:32 PM »
Oh my - I did not get the crescendo of sound that you heard reading the poem Jackie but the line that got me was, Worms feed on Hector brave; - that line sank me - it reminded me it matters not what we accomplish on this earth we all end up back in the earth except if you believe in a heaven or hell here after -

Given the view we now can take of the universe through these powerful telescopes I have to question where is this heaven we were taught to believe in - certainly its not in the sky -  

Have you ever looked through one of these Telescopes? You can buy through Amazon or Edmund Scientific that sells science toys for children, a card for less than $8 that allows you to dial-up one of these powerful telescopes and maneuver it yourself viewing the cosmos on your computer screen for up to 42 minutes. An amazing experience! But now the question - how to put what was taught in good faith with the knowledge available 2000 years ago into the reality uncovered in the last century or so.

Which for me does open questions - what is it all about.  Yes, earth a player's stage but I see no mounting unto the sky. So far, I am only able to see the benefit of living in the now in a way that as the cliche goes 'does no harm'.

As to goodness - that is a discussion in itself - What is goodness? - We like to think we know but how much of goodness is really socially acceptable behavior - or better, is goodness behavior admired by society - Is what is good in one culture and not necessarily good in another still considered goodness?

As to evil - the big bad horrific and painful treatment of anything that will either directly or indirectly hurt others is easy to label evil but it is all the little things - and then when you observe and ponder a cosmic God with no dualities in first flush it is easy to accept evil is entwined with goodness as all of one therefore, within us we have good and evil therefore, imperfections and failures are an equal part of all that we label good - But then I sink trying to come to terms with some of the horrific events we are all capable of committing and even more, how innocently living within the structure of our society today we all have a hand in committing atrocities to the earth and each others health and the future environment.

Ah yes, the big issues - but I really dwell on these things - It is like I want an orderly understanding of what my life is all about and recently I have questioned as if a teenager all over again. Poems often open the floodgates of chaos that are my questions tumbling forth in a rush plowing everything in its wake after a dam burst.

What I want is what Robert Frost attains in 'Going for water'  but what I get is his 'A Dream Pang' - Maybe it is all a kanundrum and I should sit against a tree as Frost does in his poem, The Demiurge's Laugh

A Dream Pang
          ~ by Robert Frost
 
I HAD withdrawn in forest, and my song
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
And to the forest edge you came one day
(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
You shook your pensive head as who should say,
'I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray--
He must seek me would he undo the wrong.
Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
And tell you that I saw does still abide.
But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.

 
Going for Water
          ~ by Robert Frost
 
THE well was dry beside the door,
And so we went with pail and can
Across the fields behind the house
To seek the brook if still it ran;
Not loth to have excuse to go,
Because the autumn eve was fair
(Though chill), because the fields were ours,
And by the brook our woods were there.
We ran as if to meet the moon
That slowly dawned behind the trees,
The barren boughs without the leaves,
Without the birds, without the breeze.
But once within the wood, we paused
Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,
Ready to run to hiding new
With laughter when she found us soon.
Each laid on other a staying hand
To listen ere we dared to look,
And in the hush we joined to make
We heard, we knew we heard the brook.
A note as from a single place,
A slender tinkling fall that made
Now drops that floated on the pool
Like pearls, and now a silver blade.


The Demiurge's Laugh
          ~by Robert Frost
 
IT was far in the sameness of the wood;
I was running with joy on the Demon's trail,
Though I knew what I hunted was no true god.
It was just as the light was beginning to fail
That I suddenly heard--all I needed to hear:
It has lasted me many and many a year.
The sound was behind me instead of before,
A sleepy sound, but mocking half,
As of one who utterly couldn't care.
The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh,
Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went;
And well I knew what the Demon meant.
I shall not forget how his laugh rang out.
I felt as a fool to have been so caught,
And checked my steps to make pretence
It was something among the leaves I sought
(Though doubtful whether he stayed to see).
Thereafter I sat me against a tree.
“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 #1727 on: July 31, 2010, 09:14:58 AM »
 JACKIE, I felt the same way about the cadence of the poem, and there
was no denying the impact of the words. Your sense of an accumulation of voices is intriguing; I can see where it might do that.

 BARB, I believe it mtters very much what we accomplish on earth, as
that impacts on the people we touched. I believe the future is always
affected by the choices and decisions people make. We leave a mark,
however difficult it may be to discern.
  I do believe there is more to our existence than what we see here.
However, I also am convinced that our images of 'heaven' and 'hell' were are an attempt to turn something beyond our grasp into an image we could relate to. In every culture, 'heaven' is perceived as a place that has all it's people long for here.
  Good and evil I won't even touch here. We would need to sit down for a long talk about that one.  I've found answers that make sense to me
but still hurt in human terms.
"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 #1728 on: July 31, 2010, 05:06:45 PM »
Babi:  Today I needed your affirmation of my sense of the poem more than you can know.  Chronic depression, mostly controlled, has overwhelmed me lately and your kind words are a ray of light in my dark, dark hidey hole.  Thank you lacks the weight of my feeling, but it will have to do since i have no better words.
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 #1729 on: August 01, 2010, 03:29:33 AM »
Ouch not fun Jackie - there seems to be an epidemic of depression just now - I know this sounds like Voodoo and maybe it is given my friends - but I have a couple of psychic friends who all speak of a shift in 2012 - not necessarily good or bad just a shift and the more sensitive among us are already grieving the loss of this time that is 2000 years old.

As I say Voodoo or  not for me the information is making me listen to the earth, the night, the wind in the grass while becoming more of an observer of the madness I note all around us.

Babi would I love to sit at a cafe for an afternoon and listen to your take on good and evil. If  you feel comfortable sharing some of your insight here that would be grand. Of course we get into issues of philosophy and probably a bit of theology which is a step away from just poetry but it would be so neat to hear other thoughts on these subjects that are seldom talked about without someone taking offense because what we say does not match their views... ah so...

Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

          ~ William Shakespeare


Hope Abides
          - Sri Chinmoy

Hope abides; therefore I abide.
Countless frustrations have not cowed me.
I am still alive, vibrant with life.
The black cloud will disappear,
The morning sun will appear once again
In all its supernal glory.


“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1730 on: August 01, 2010, 08:51:26 AM »
   The Sri Chimnoy poem is certainly timely, BARB, and comforting.
I've only had one real experience of depression, JACKIE, and didn't even
realize at the time what it was.  It was only later, when people spoke of
their bouts of depression , that I looked back and realized what had
been happening.  I was fortunate in that mine was a situational depression, that cleared up when the 'situation' left.

  BARB, the key that got me thinking as I do about good and evil was a
a scripture: "Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin! Such things must come,...." (Mt.18:7)  Naturally
my thought was, "Why?".   But then I thought of the often recurring
message that we must choose what is right.  Virtue has
no meaning if there is no other option.  All that we are grows from our
choices; all that makes us worthwhile. 
  That, of course, is a summation...a nugget...but it gives you an idea of
my thinking.
"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 #1731 on: August 01, 2010, 09:59:44 AM »
OK I am hearing you say choice - choice between what can be a good affect and what can be a bad or evil affect - Unfortunatly I get lost in the details.

I have seen many who acted in what they think is good faith only because there really is no other choice - How often do we choose to stay within our budget [a good thing] and purchase fresh foods that is grown with fertilizers and insecticides - by making that purchase we are keeping those farm practices alive and well by keeping those farmers in business - for the innocent reason that we stay within our financial budget -

I know it is a simple example but we now know the evil we are doing to the environment - we are promoting these contaminants to invade our bodies - we are seeing the rise in Cancer and allergies - we know that we would not ingest fertilizer or insecticide and yet, we consume both in our foods and worse we give it to our children who have no voice in their health.  

Then the whole issue of how women are considered second-class citizens all over the world - we are taught to honor and respect the culture and religion of other nations. How do we do that in face of some of the atrocities inflicted on women in these cultures in the name of religion?  

When we were little kids, there was not the communications that allowed us to realize the differences that exist around the world in what is considered good and bad or right and wrong. We may have had a passing understanding of other religions however, the various beliefs in a God and what these religions called evil was beyond our knowledge. We assumed the whole world shared our values of what is good and what is evil - it was easy during WWII to identify what was evil however, by the time Viet Nam rolled over us, it was no longer clear.

We have been learning of a non-dualistic Christ. That the Bible shows Jesus answering always in a non-dualistic manner and it was only the early church that explained good and bad with adhering to Christianity as defined by some as good or else you were labeled a Heretic.

Then to wrap my mind around the realization that within all of us there is the capability with our free will to chose evil and the best folks that bring many advantages and blessings to others often did this by subjecting some to evil treatment -  I wonder what is the purpose of evil? - How is it possible to see a non-dualistic existence with the horrific things that some who choose evil have perpetrated on others which makes me question back to the beginning of my rant – How often have my innocent choices brought evil consequences to others?

Is evil really about shame if shown how we injure and to hang on to our belief in wanting to be good we avoid examining how we have injured with the acceptance that there really is no way we can perfectly live our lives without causing harm - then it becomes a matter of measuring harm - oh dear it goes on and on...
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1732 on: August 02, 2010, 08:57:14 AM »
 Surely, if your choices are innocent,  there is no blame to you.  We can
only try to do what is right, to the best of our ability.  We are not far-
seeing, much less omnipotent.  We have a responsibility to do what we
can to learn, so that we do not act out of ignorance, but we cannot
know everything.  We can only do our best to choose what is right, what is kind,  what is good.  The world of man is not perfect....(how's that for a news bulletin?  :-[ ).   I must accept my limitations; the outcome I must leave to God.
 
"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 #1733 on: August 02, 2010, 10:20:46 AM »
Aha - there is a song something about 'I can see clearly now' - your post uncovered for me the basis of how I have been in circles for years - it does not change what happened or the outcome but now I can see clearly what I have been about.

I too grew up with the belief "Surely, if your choices are innocent,  there is no blame to you." I have been double maybe triple rocked by not just what happened but how the very folks who I spent large sums of money to help me through the pain along with the many in various groups whose focus is on helping members to move  forward were all quick to tell me and some to blame me proving how I was complicit.

I can still feel how my half opened jaw all of sudden was as if made of rock with no sound and only confusion like a head full of criss crossed wires - My head was filled with questions - how was I supposed to have known, guessed? How could I not see I was not to trust the closest relationship with the wellfair of the child we both made? How do you work on loving someone while not trusting them?  Since, I have spent all these years trying to put a microscope on evil and my role as well as society's role in allowing and cooperating with evil.

Well I may not be any closer to how and who and what and when to trust - and I sure hope I am not taking the easy path out of the laboratory and away from the microscope I have hogged for the last 24  years but if there is anything left of my life I need to accept my own truth which means there is no protection from evil or societies view of your role when you are touched by evil.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes
          ~ by Emily Dickinson

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –

This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1734 on: August 03, 2010, 08:19:05 AM »
 I am delighted if I have been of help in breaking up a painful and useless cycle.  Sometimes a
help group can get caught up in their own way of doing things.  Other times they can be helpful
in showing us what we have been unable to see ourselves. 

  This old Johnny Nash song comes to mind.

   I Can See Clearly Now, the Rain is Gone Lyrics:
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
[ Find more Lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.org/fnH ]
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin?for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

Look all around, there’s nothin' but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin' but blue skies

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day
"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 #1735 on: August 03, 2010, 02:41:51 PM »
I can see clearly now what had me tied up in mental knots.  I forgot that there is usually one or more solutions to my problems but sometimes the emotions overwhelm my sensibilities so that there seems to be no way out except more pain and suffering.  I used to keep a journal, very special blank book with a special pen reserved for my journal notes.  I could express my quandary and list the pros and cons of each potential solution.  This helped me get in touch with where my deeply held preferences were so that I had logical reasons for my decisions.  Don't know why I've strayed from this tool
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 #1736 on: August 04, 2010, 07:34:58 AM »
Ouch but here it is...

THE BLADE OF GRASS

by: Dora Greenwell (1821-1882)

H! little blade of grass,
A little sword thou art,
That in thy haste to pass
Hast pierced thy mother’s heart!
 
Oh! little blade of grass,
A little tongue thou art
Of cleaving flame,--alas!
Thou hast cleft thy mother’s heart.
 
Oh! little blade, upcurled
Leaf, sword, or fiery dart,
To win thy Father’s world
Thou must break thy mother’s heart!


After that a bit of our Emily to balance our day...

          ~ Emily Dickinson
 
A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer’s noon —
A depth — an Azure — a perfume —
Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see —

Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle — shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me —

The wizard fingers never rest —
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it narrow bed —

Still rears the East her amber Flag —
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red —

So looking on — the night — the morn
Conclude the wonder gay —
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1737 on: August 04, 2010, 10:02:08 AM »
 Ah, Emily.  She can always sooth and comfort,...or amuse and gladden.
   I wonder if Dora Greenwell was writing of a son going off to war.  The time could fit, and
the poem certainly has that 'feel'.
"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 #1738 on: August 04, 2010, 12:27:56 PM »
YES! That's it - it makes sense now - of course it must be about her son who in order to win in his Father's world would have to use his sword like any good officer at war during the nineteenth century.
“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

Tomereader1

  • Posts: 1870
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1739 on: August 04, 2010, 12:34:13 PM »
I'm sure glad Babi solved that for me.  I couldn't figure out any of it, (Greenwell) now it all makes sense.
The reading of a fine book is an uninterrupted dialogue in which the book speaks and our soul replies.


André Maurois

mrssherlock

  • Posts: 2007
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1740 on: August 04, 2010, 01:28:14 PM »
Huzzah, Babi!  I was as mystified as the rest.
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 #1741 on: August 05, 2010, 05:46:04 AM »
Friendship After Love
          ~ by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires,
There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days
Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,
Comes large-eyed Friendship: with a restful gaze.
He beckons us to follow, and across
Cool verdant vales we wander free from care.
Is it a touch of frost lies in the air?
Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?
We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;
And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete.


St Martin Day is celebrated all over Europe where as this site from Estonia has one of the best explanations http://www.greenpt.com/StMartinDay.htm
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1742 on: August 05, 2010, 08:22:20 AM »
 Thank you, thank you.  No roses, please.   8)

  A small and timely quote from one of our favorite authors:
  "What dreadful hot weather we have!
It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance."
-   Jane Austen   
"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 #1743 on: August 05, 2010, 12:17:49 PM »
Barb:  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 #1744 on: August 06, 2010, 06:25:14 AM »
 A bit of fun for hot sleepless nights...

As Soon as Fred Gets Out of Bed
          ~ by Jack Prelutsky

As soon as Fred gets out of bed,
his underwear goes on his head.
His mother laughs, "Don't put it there,
a head's no place for underwear!"
But near his ears, above his brains,
is where Fred's underwear remains.

At night when Fred goes back to bed,
he deftly plucks it off his head.
His mother switches off the light
and softly croons, "Good night! Good night!"
And then, for reasons no one knows,
Fred's underwear goes on his toes.
“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 #1745 on: August 06, 2010, 08:52:54 AM »
 ;)
"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

roshanarose

  • Posts: 1344
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1746 on: August 06, 2010, 08:25:36 PM »
I can identify with Jane Austen's state of "inelegance".  Imagine eating a hamburger on a hot day?  Now that is inelegant!
How can you prove whether at this moment we are sleeping, and all our thoughts are a dream; or whether we are awake, and talking to one another in the waking state?  - Plato

Babi

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1747 on: August 07, 2010, 08:51:39 AM »
 Not to mention the muggy, fuggy, sweaty part of summers.  (My heartfelt thanks to whomever invented air conditioning.)

  A short ditty from an unknown (to me) poet
Whether the weather be mild or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather whatever the weather,
Whether we like it or not.
 
Aleksandra Lachut

 

"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 #1748 on: August 07, 2010, 11:19:57 AM »
Since the days are impossible lets consider the nights...

Go And Catch A Falling Star
          ~ John Donne

Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.

If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet;
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1749 on: August 08, 2010, 08:05:22 AM »
 Alas, sour John,  such a cynic! 

  Summer nights sounds like a good idea.  Here's one I found by
Paul Laurence Dunbar.

A Summer's Night. 
THE night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,
The skies are bright as are a maiden's
eyes,
Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies
Up from the perfumed bosom of the South.

Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park;
And hither hastening, like rakes that roam,
With lamps to light their wayward footsteps
home,
The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark.

 
"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 #1750 on: August 08, 2010, 01:43:12 PM »
Which reminds me of the Allen Toussaint song

Southern nights have you ever felt a Southern night
Free as a breeze not to mention the trees
Whistling tunes that you know and love so.

Southern nights just as good even when closed your eyes
I apologize to any one who can truly say he has found a better way,
Hey hey.

Southern skies - have you ever noticed Southern skies?
It's precious beauty lies just beyond the eye
It goes running thru your soul like the stories of old.

Old man he and his dog they walk the old land
Ev'ry flower touches his cold hand
As he slowly walked by, weeping willows cry for joy, joy.

Feel so good - feel so good it's fright'ning
Wish I could stop this world from fighting
La dah dah dahhh dahhhh dot dah dah dah dahhh dahhh
Dot dah dah dot dahhh dah dot dahhhh
Mysteries like this and many other in the trees
Blow in the night in the Southern skies


Here is the man himself - my favorite rendition...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGAFOz5GA8I
“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

roshanarose

  • Posts: 1344
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1751 on: August 08, 2010, 11:37:59 PM »
I have always enjoyed the Metaphysical poets, especially Donne.  Then I read his bio - what a letdown!  He married his wife when she was 15 and she died having their twelfthchild.
How can you prove whether at this moment we are sleeping, and all our thoughts are a dream; or whether we are awake, and talking to one another in the waking state?  - Plato

Babi

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1752 on: August 09, 2010, 09:34:12 AM »
 I don't think I've ever heard that song, BARB.  I found myself trying to
fit a melody to it.
  I had pretty much the same reaction, ROSE.  From some of his poetry I imagined a rather noble and high-souled man.  Not!   :-\
   
"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 #1753 on: August 09, 2010, 11:08:30 AM »
Oh dear - how easy it is to use the values of today to measure the values of those who lived 400 years ago - I am remembering even as a child it was the norm to have large families - one of my classmates was from a family of 21 children with many being from families of 11 and 12 children so that it was considered that small families of less than 4 there was something wrong with either the wife's attitude or the marriage itself.

When you read some of the Women's  poetry of subjugation then you realize even in poetry there was an effort to silence the voice of women whose work shed a light on their situation - In recent history Sylvia Path is still considered by many to be more psychotic than having a breakdown because she could not live the life of expectation for a women. The Bronte sisters as late as the 19Th century used male pseudonyms in order to get their first few novels published.

How recent is it that women have full access to education and in spite of the pill, that is only available in the last 50 years, there are still institutions that foster the concept of a marriage as being for the 'comfort' of men. And so, in the name of the rights and "comforts" of men if they stray out of marriage it is the wife's fault and without medical science to control her menstrual cycle many families would still be large.

How many of us even heard of Anne Finch considered to be one of the best poets of her era during the turn of the eighteenth century. http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/finch/finch-anne.html

In poetry early women poets are still ignored - many had large families - A look at most on-line list of women poets starts with Isabella Whitney 1560 - another woman poet we never hear about - here is an excerpt of one of her very long  poems.

The time is come I must depart
from thee, ah famous city.
I never yet, to rue my smart,
did find that thou hadst pity.

Wherefore small cause there is that I
should grieve from thee to go.

But many women foolishly,
like me, and other mo'e,
Do such affixed fancy set
on those which least deserve,
That long it is ere wit we get,
away from them to swerve


However, more to the point - there is no mention of La Compiuta Donzella or Vernica Cambana or Chiara Matraini nor Lura Terracina - on and on from the thirteenth and Fourteenth Century.

Here are excerpts from the poetry of Medesta Dal Pozzo 1553-1592 who did write a few years after Isabella

Women in every age were by nature
endowed with great judgment and spirit,
nor are they born less apt than men to demonstrate
(with study and care) their wisdom and valor.
And why, if their bodily form is the same,
if their substances are not varied,
if they have the same food and speech, must they
have them different courage and wisdom?

Always one has seen and sees (provide that a
woman wanted to devote thought to it)
more than one woman succeed in the military,
and take away the esteem and acclaim from many men.
Just so in letters and in every
endeavor that men undertake and pursue;
women have achieved and achieve such good results
that they have no cause at all to envy men....

If when a daughter is born the father
set her with his son to equivalent tasks
she would not be in lofty and fair deeds
inferior or unequal to her brother,
whether he placed her among the armed squads
with himself, or set her to learn some liberal art.
But because she is raised in other pursuits
for her education she is held in low regard.

If the magician had not proposed the military
to Risamante, not disposed her heart toward it,
she would not in the end have carried out with her own hands
so many glorious feats of valor.

"I enjoy it more when it's held for an impossible thing."
Said the lady, "When I find a way
to expose myself to some dangerous undertaking,
I don't draw back; rather I enjoy it more
when it's held for an impossible thing."        

The woman warrior, who had a soft and humane heart,
seeing she has the better of that quarrel,
runs to him, and with a pitiful hand
she hurriedly frees his head from the bloody helm;
and she demonstrates to everyone her victory
in his deadly pale face, from which she gains triumph and glory.    

"What happened next elsewhere I'll sing."


One of the books of poems I found years ago "The Defiant Muse" is filled with the poetry of these early women. Their poetry is filled with how they felt chained and were impregnated willy nilly by father's, how they are subjected to arranged alliances that sometimes included marriage by their fathers - how they are loved by both thoughtful, usually young lovers and husbands in addition to being essentially raped by husbands or friends of the family -

As Gregory Clark says, in "Human Capital, Fertility And the Industrial Revolution"..."Before the Industrial Revolution four features characterized all societies: high fertility rates, little education, the dominance of physical over human capital, and low rates of productivity growth."

All to say Donne's wife's death was not unusual nor, was the size of his family that in that time in history spoke to the success of a wife to keep her husband's interest. Wasn't it the movie the French Lieutenant's Woman that Meryl Streep, reading bed shares the astonishing number of prostitutes active in London during the 19Th century therefore men were never more than a block away from someone who would provide 'comfort'.

Like y'all, I really get wound up on this issue of woman's basic rights and liberty but I also know that like it or not, history is a stepping stone path to very different attitudes and expectations for women. It is difficult to learn through the news that there are parts of the world were still women are at some distant point in emancipation as European women were prior to the last 50 years when we had available a safe means to control the number of conseptions.



“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 #1754 on: August 09, 2010, 01:24:54 PM »
Barb:  The cover of Time magazine is very telling of the status of women inmany parts of this world.  It is a struggle to the death  of one system or the other.
Jackie
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke

roshanarose

  • Posts: 1344
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1755 on: August 09, 2010, 10:17:05 PM »
Very well put, Barb.  Strange that in the past as Artists women are in the absolute minority.  Australia is in the throes of an election.  One of the candidates for PM is a woman.  Shock!  Horror!  Interesting.  I have been watching the media closely for sexist remarks but haven't seen anything to that effect thus far.  Does anyone know any books on female leadership at a political level?  If you would like to do a search for the candidate,  her name is Julia Gillard. 

As Jackie says horrific acts towards women are "in many pars of this world".  Recently I was commenting on a Forum page about a young Afghan girl who was married off at age 10 to some kind of a monster.  The final act was when he cut her ears and nose off.  The Forum page degenerated into racial slurs and why Australia should not accept any more "ragheads" from boats.  I can't express how angry such attitudes make me.  How lucky, lucky, lucky we are.  As an Iraqi friend of mine always reminds me, "It is an accident of nature" that I live where I live.

I am still not happy with John Donne.   :(
How can you prove whether at this moment we are sleeping, and all our thoughts are a dream; or whether we are awake, and talking to one another in the waking state?  - Plato

BarbStAubrey

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Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1756 on: August 10, 2010, 01:32:44 AM »
Quote
Strange that in the past as Artists women are in the absolute minority
I bought into the 'male' college professor theory that we have fewer women poets or artists of any kind because they were too busy having and caring for families to use their time to create art. ---

Well, of late I am getting a very different picture of why Artistic women are in the absolute minority - in the male dominated world a women's work was not published - we have several authors during the 19Th century who in order to get published presented their work using a male pseudonym - and the more I read I am learning that the work of early women writers is only now being found in the attics trucks and hidyholes since it was never seen in public -

So, I am thinking this may be the story of women in all phases of the art world - we know girls, [unless wealthy and tutored at home or because they read their father's library] were not educated much less allowed to perform in public. And so I think the 'minority' is an imposed representation of what oozed out under the lid closed by a male dominated society going back before the Greeks and Romans.

At least the Greeks and Romans had female goddesses with female priests attending those who worshiped these goddesses where as the Judo-Christian world did their one god bit that was a male. For awhile Catholic Cristians had a devotion to Mary but that has been squashed in recent years. We had a church in New Mexico with the famous statue of Mary stepping on the snake with a sword in her hand - this strong personification of women was considered profane after Vatican II and the church had to remove the statue and rename the church - marvelous - [ that is irony folks ] a perfect example of how we can go backwards while the secular world of justice is finally opening the lid to opportunity for women.
“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

  • Posts: 6732
Re: Poetry Page
« Reply #1757 on: August 10, 2010, 08:59:36 AM »
 You are quite right, BARB.  My reaction to John Donne's 'treatment' of his wife was biased and
unfair.  In all likelihood she considered herself well enough off.  I took a quick look at his bio.,
and he was certainly a very versatile and talented man.
"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 #1758 on: August 10, 2010, 02:06:02 PM »
What a delight is Ann Finch and her poetry.  How lucky she and her husband found one another.  My grandmother, born in 1894. was the youngest of 13.  Her family was well-to-do and there would have been many helping hands, unmarried women being dependent on family for support exchanged their labor for hearth and home.  My mother-in-law was also born in 1894 in the eastern Columbia Gorge community of The Dalles, Oregon, and she had 6 or 7 sibs.  She told me of cooking for the harvest crews when she was 9.   
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 #1759 on: August 11, 2010, 09:06:36 AM »
 I failed to comment in my last post on the rest of your post, BARB.
I like that image of "oozed out under the lid".  I think that expressed it very well.
  I was unaware that the devotion to Mary has been 'squashed' in recent years. My impression of the RC hierarchy of worship has always been God-Mary-Christ.  Perhaps that is because Mary would seem more understanding to women.  I can see, tho', where a Mary
holding a sword and stepping on the snake would be a bit too militant for the usual view of her role.

  Here is a Marian poem by Thomas Merton that I like:

  The Evening of the Visitation - Written in 1947

Go, roads, to the four quarters of our quiet distance,
While you, full moon, wise queen,
Begin your evening journey to the hills of heaven,
And travel no less stately in the summer sky
Than Mary, going to the house of Zachary.

The woods are silent with the sleep of doves,
The valleys with the sleep of streams,
And all our barns are happy with peace of cattle gone to rest.
Still wakeful, in the fields, the shocks of wheat
Preach and say prayers:
You sheaves, make all your evensongs as sweet as ours,
Whose summer world, all ready for the granary and barn,
Seems to have seen, this day,
Into the secret of the Lord's Nativity.

Now at the fall of night, you shocks,
Still bend your heads like kind and humble kings
The way you did this golden morning when you saw God's
Mother passing,
While all our windows fill and sweeten
With the mild vespers of the hay and barley.
 
"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