Author Topic: Poetry Page (Read 755833 times)

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #800 on:** October 13, 2009, 03:16:03 AM »

Welcome to our Autumn Poetry Page.
A haven for those who listen to the words
that open hearts, imagination, and our feelings
that we share about the poems we post - Please Join Us.

Poetry can be part of life
   rather than a thing apart.

Share with us
   Poems about the end
   of the natural year.

Tell us
   How you celebrate
   a poet's life and poems.

Autumn holidays -
   Tell us about Poetry in
   Fall parties and gift giving.

A few Poetry Links:

Discussion Leaders: BarbStAubrey & Fairanna

Lovely - What a treat in Poetry tonight

You must be witnessing the first snowfall of the season Jackie - of all the poems the one written by Tommy Smith hit my heart but then it may be that the other poems only softened me up for the hit.

Interesting how we admire a snow covered world and yet snow like any blanket or quilt can cover a sick and broken body and at other times, like a quilt tucked around us it makes us feel snug and safe in its muffled stillness.
I feel of late as if there is something in the air and I am waiting for the other shoe to drop - I am seeing this town go quiet - no one is driving again except to and from their jobs - the stores are empty including Wal-Mart. I had a old client call me Sunday. She has all sorts of patents in specialized computer technology that went with her advanced degrees in Math and Science however, she was fired last year and she called to tell me she finally found a job; Part Time at the local HEB which is a Texas Grocery chain earning $10. an hour making the salads.

With that heavy dense and soggy feeling poetry is like Alice's rabbit hole and Babi the language in a Hopkins poem swirls around my tongue and then encircles my head - I am in awe of his use of language and what reading his work does for my spirit.

Babi · « **Reply #801 on:** October 13, 2009, 08:50:45 AM »

Poetry can do that, can't it, Barb? It speaks for us when we haven't the
words to speak for ourselves. Both the Wilbur and the Gluck poems are sad, heavy. But Autumn is often like that, isn't it, especially when it turns
wet and chill.
The stores here still seem to be busy, but they are cutting staff and people are losing jobs, or hours. The smaller, marginal businesses are failing. I am surprised that your friends high-tech patents are not able to support her. I simply assumed that anything in that line must be highly profitable. I have noticed, in my lifetime, that things constanly fluctuate.
Like a pendulum, a constant upswing to downswing. It does help me,
in the bad times, to be confident that the upswing will come.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #802 on:** October 13, 2009, 10:05:46 AM »

Patents in the High Tech industry are useful for 10 minutes - there is always a new young fresh from a college campus techie who comes up with something even better - what having patents does show is the level and investment in someones education and t heir competency that was used up in 15 to 20 years max by a large company and then thrown on the heap. Thanks goodness she never married and has no family but this is the same tale for many a family where the techie is in their 40s with school age children. We thought the tech industry was immune to this free fall in the economy but not so.

Pantoum Of The Great Depression
Donald Justice

Our lives avoided tragedy
Simply by going on and on,
Without end and with little apparent meaning.
Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.

Simply by going on and on
We managed. No need for the heroic.
Oh, there were storms and small catastrophes.
I don't remember all the particulars.

We managed. No need for the heroic.
There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows.
I don't remember all the particulars.
Across the fence, the neighbors were our chorus.

There were the usual celebrations, the usual sorrows
Thank god no one said anything in verse.
The neighbors were our only chorus,
And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.

At no time did anyone say anything in verse.
It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us,
And if we suffered we kept quiet about it.
No audience would ever know our story.

It was the ordinary pities and fears consumed us.
We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.
What audience would ever know our story?
Beyond our windows shone the actual world.

We gathered on porches; the moon rose; we were poor.
And time went by, drawn by slow horses.
Somewhere beyond our windows shone the actual world.
The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog.

And time went by, drawn by slow horses.
We did not ourselves know what the end was.
The Great Depression had entered our souls like fog.
We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues.

But we did not ourselves know what the end was.
People like us simply go on.
We had our flaws, perhaps a few private virtues,
But it is by blind chance only that we escape tragedy.

And there is no plot in that; it is devoid of poetry.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #803 on:** October 13, 2009, 10:35:46 AM »

Instructions for Living - Lakota

Friend do it this way - that is,
whatever you do in life,
do the very best you can
with both your heart and mind.

And if you do it that way,
the Power Of The Universe
will come to your assistance,
if your heart and mind are in Unity.

When one sits in the Hoop Of The People,
one must be responsible because
All of Creation is related.
And the hurt of one is the hurt of all.
And the honor of one is the honor of all.
And whatever we do effects everything in the universe.

If you do it that way - that is,
if you truly join your heart and mind
as One - whatever you ask for,
that's the Way It's Going To Be.

- Spoken wisdom by White Buffalo Calf Woman -

mrssherlock · « **Reply #804 on:** October 13, 2009, 01:13:33 PM »

It is not yet snowing here, but watching a baseball playoff game at the Colorado Rockies stadium, a game that had been snowed out the day before, it seemed like time. Snow has already fallen on Mt Hood, but didn't last. The glacier is visibly shrinking. Forecast of snow this week lifts my spirit. The cycle will continue, at least for a while longer.

The Lakotas, as if wishing could make it so.

Babi · « **Reply #805 on:** October 14, 2009, 08:57:40 AM »

"And whatever we do effects everything in the universe."
Isn't it interesting that a development in scientific thought can be
found in a Lakota philolosophy?

Hmmm. Wishing isn't going to make it so, JACKIE, as we well know. But
I think the Lakota had something more focused in mind. They see it as a
tap on some 'Power'. Actually, it reminds me of a scripture, "If two of
you shall agree on earth concerning anything, it will be done for you."
That might not be an exact quote, but it's close.

mrssherlock · « **Reply #806 on:** October 14, 2009, 11:55:31 AM »

Quote

If two of you shall agree on earth concerning anything, it will be done for you.

Funny how my mind converted that into "wishing can make it so"

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #807 on:** October 14, 2009, 01:42:29 PM »

I think the ticket is the last lines -
   if you truly join your heart and mind
   as One - whatever you ask for,
   that's the Way It's Going To Be.
- in that the prayer has more to do with us as individuals than waiting, or looking, or expecting others to be as we would like them to be.

As to nature, who knows what power we have but to believe with heart and mind - that maybe enough to alter the universe. We have learned that the flutter of the wings of a butterfly in Madagascar affects the weather in the US and so if our hearts and minds prompt us towards movement the air around us will push out and affect the weather in the Atlantic. I am not sure of the air streams to know the story but it would be easy enough to look up.

But then prayer has been proved to work and so to wish is like a silent prayer - again the power of a wish/prayer can make something happen. http://1stholistic.com/Prayer/hol_prayer_proof.htm

And so to me if we are alive we are in the hoop therefore, we have the power to make a difference which means, with our thoughts/prayers that come from our unified heart and mind we affect the universe. We just have to get our hearts and minds to line up and pray.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #808 on:** October 14, 2009, 02:27:44 PM »

Circle of Seasons
by wolvscry

Everythings calm in the forest,things in a deep slumber
The green man had put everything away for the end of summer
I hear nothing as I sit,no chirp,no stir
In the groves where I lay,the rocks and vines making a calming twine around the focal point
The perfect cradle of warmth and life lay in a willow joint
the long green tears of the willow make a curtain around me
and I as I lay deep in trance I listen to the world come to life around me
the leaves rustle in the newly re-born wind
I hear the pitter patter of paws,
the scraping of claws
I hear the nearby waves crash upon the shore
light and life burst out from the forest core
and then back to its normal state snow falls,
the forest has started winter a little late,
the newly awoken beings will soon go back into slumber
and again nothing will stir,
only to be brought back to life again by lifes allure
the seasons go on is a circle

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #809 on:** October 14, 2009, 02:34:17 PM »

Everyone Needs Someone

People need people and friends need friends
And we all need love for a full life depends
Not on vast riches or great acclaim,
Not on success or on worldly fame,
But just in knowing that someone cares
And holds us close in their thoughts and prayers-
For only the knowledge that we're understood
Makes everyday living feel wonderfully good,
And we rob ourselves of life's greatest need
When we "lock up our hearts" and fail to heed
The outstretched hand reaching to find
A kindred spirit whose heart and mind
Are lonely and longing to somehow share
Our joys and sorrows and to make us aware
That life's completeness and richness depends
On the things we share with our loved ones and friends.

-Helen Steiner Rice

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #810 on:** October 14, 2009, 02:43:36 PM »

Circle of Life

Music by elton john - Lyrics by tim rice - from the Lion King

From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There’s more to be seen than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done

Some say eat or be eaten
Some say live and let live
But all are agreed as they join the stampede
You should never take more than you give

In the circle of life
It’s the wheel of fortune
It’s the leap of faith
It’s the band of hope
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle, the circle of life

Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with the scars

There’s far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

mrssherlock · « **Reply #811 on:** October 14, 2009, 03:28:52 PM »

How fortunate I feel to have found this community where I can express much of my inner self and know that there is a caring ear and heart to hear me. Much more intimate than my other associations is this one, so dear to me and so sadly missed when I thought it was lost.

Babi · « **Reply #812 on:** October 15, 2009, 08:40:15 AM »

I'll drink to that, JACKIE. (Is milk acceptable?

)

MarjV · « **Reply #813 on:** October 15, 2009, 11:53:12 AM »

I know first hand the tech industry is not immune - my younger son in mid 40s lost his
computer software design job 2 weeks ago! Not nice at all. Sorry your friend had to take a job like that, Barb. But- anything is better than nothing the way our economy is going. So what is the Dow Jones went over 10,000. Doesn't affect the bad job situation here in Michigan.

Barb, you wrote: And so to me if we are alive we are in the hoop therefore, we have the power to make a difference which means, with our thoughts/prayers that come from our unified heart and mind we affect the universe. We just have to get our hearts and minds to line up and pray

To that I add AMEN!

The Lakota Woman is fantastic!

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #814 on:** October 15, 2009, 01:03:24 PM »

What I find difficult it getting my heart and mind on the same track - there is that tiny voice that alwasy wants its say - and then to get a positive vibe going is another trick when there is so much need - but then there has always been need it is just now the need is closer to home.

Well onward - Here is Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare (1609)

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #815 on:** October 15, 2009, 01:12:22 PM »

Oh here is a winner in my book...

Autumn Movement
Carl Sandburg (1918)

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Babi · « **Reply #816 on:** October 16, 2009, 08:12:11 AM »

Oh, thanks for remembering one of my favorite Shakespearean sonnets,
BARB. "Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang". He is still
the Master. And Sandburg is another!

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #817 on:** October 17, 2009, 01:39:40 PM »

An Autumn Rain-Scene by Thomas Hardy

There trudges one to a merry-making
With sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.

To fetch the saving medicament
Is another bent,
On whom the rain comes down.

One slowly drives his herd to the stall
Ere ill befall,
On whom the rain comes down.

This bears his missives of life and death
With quickening breath,
On whom the rain comes down.

One watches for signals of wreck or war
From the hill afar,
On whom the rain comes down.

No care if he gain a shelter or none,
Unhired moves on,
On whom the rain comes down.

And another knows nought of its chilling fall
Upon him aat all,
On whom the rain comes down.

Babi · « **Reply #818 on:** October 18, 2009, 09:49:43 AM »

What an interesting poem. I can just imagine someone sitting at a
window, watching the passersby.

Here's a brief one on rain that suits me well:

Souls And Rain-Drops by Sidney Lanier

Light rain-drops fall and wrinkle the sea,
Then vanish, and die utterly.
One would not know that rain-drops fell
If the round sea-wrinkles did not tell.

So souls come down and wrinkle life
And vanish in the flesh-sea strife.
One might not know that souls had place
Were't not for the wrinkles in life's face.

mrssherlock · « **Reply #819 on:** October 18, 2009, 09:12:40 PM »

Oh, Babi, I like that comparison of wrinkles.

Babi · « **Reply #820 on:** October 19, 2009, 08:27:34 AM »

Me, too, Jackie. I was just thinking. The wrinkles on my face generally follow
laugh lines. But what do I call the ones on my body?

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #821 on:** October 19, 2009, 03:06:09 PM »

Wrinkles And Crinkles

They say that behind
every line and wrinkle
there lays a story to be had there.
With all the wrinkles and crinkles
that line my face,
there should be
a couple of novels worth there.

David Harris

Oh this is a fun web page on being wrinkled - have a laugh http://www.lovethissite.com/wrinkle/

mrssherlock · « **Reply #822 on:** October 19, 2009, 03:36:16 PM »

Barb: Someone has been spying on me! How else could this describe my life in such detail? Love it.

MarjV · « **Reply #823 on:** October 19, 2009, 07:43:10 PM »

"Autumn Movement" is just wonderful. I want to hug it.

JoanK · « **Reply #824 on:** October 19, 2009, 09:49:25 PM »

Great site. She's obviously moved on to my house.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #825 on:** October 22, 2009, 01:34:48 AM »

Autumn Daybreak by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud
At dawn, a fortnight overdue,
Jostling the doors, and tearing through
My bedroom to rejoin the cloud,
I know—for I can hear the hiss
And scrape of leaves along the floor—
How may boughs, lashed bare by this,
Will rake the cluttered sky once more.
Tardy, and somewhat south of east,
The sun will rise at length, made known
More by the meagre light increased
Than by a disk in splendour shown;
When, having but to turn my head,
Through the stripped maple I shall see,
Bleak and remembered, patched with red,
The hill all summer hid from me.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #826 on:** October 22, 2009, 01:42:04 AM »

A Song of an Autumn Night. by Wang Wei

Under the crescent moon a light autumn dew
Has chilled the robe she will not change --
And she touches a silver lute all night,
Afraid to go back to her empty room.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #827 on:** October 22, 2009, 01:43:58 AM »

Living in the Mountain on an Autumn Night by Wang Wei

After fresh rain on the empty mountain
comes evening and the cold of autumn.
The full moon burns through the pines.
A brook transparent over the stones.
Bamboo trees crackle as washerwomen go home
and lotus flowers sway as fisherman's boat slips downriver.
Though the fresh smell of grass is gone,
a prince is happy in these hills.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #828 on:** October 22, 2009, 02:00:18 AM »

Magnolia Hermitage by Wang Wei

The autumn hills hoard scarlet from the setting sun.
Flying birds chase their mates,
Now and then patches of blue sky break clear --
Tonight the evening mists find nowhere to gather.

Babi · « **Reply #829 on:** October 22, 2009, 08:36:51 AM »

I was bemused by the image of window in the Millay poem, open not only to the wind but to the leaves as well. It's hard to imagine a window without a screen, isn't it? But of course, at one time all windows must have been like that. How else could our heros and heroines lean out of their windows?

Interesting. In the first poem, Wang depicts the crescent moon as
chilling; in the second the full moon burns. I like his imagery.

mrssherlock · « **Reply #830 on:** October 22, 2009, 12:21:04 PM »

Barb: Four for four! It is rare that I can be so moved by all the poems we post lin a day but this set hits all my buttons. maybe a phrase, maybe an image, maybe the whole, there's something in each one that I will treasure. Thank you.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #831 on:** October 23, 2009, 06:02:30 AM »

Here is a great run down on how to memorize a poem
http://poetry.about.com/cs/textarchives/ht/howmemorizepoem.htm?nl=1

serenesheila · « **Reply #832 on:** October 27, 2009, 07:08:19 PM »

Hi, everyone. I am here for the first time. It is a wonderful site. When I first saw it listed, I assumed it was for people to share poetry they had written. Glad I was wrong!

My father recited poetry all of his life. I memorized much of it, just by hearing him. As a result I fell in love with poetry. He had a book, called: ''1001 Favorite Poems". A few years ago, I looked for that book, but apparently it is out of print.

I am happy to have found you.
Sheila

PatH · « **Reply #833 on:** October 28, 2009, 01:03:20 AM »

Hi, Shiela, I'm glad you found the site. Stay around and talk to us.

Barb, thanks for the Shakespeare, which I've always loved, and the Hardy, which is new to me. Here's one I like:

The Oak

by Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)

Live thy life,
Young and old,
Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
Living gold;

Summer-rich
Then; and then
Autumn-changed,
Soberer hued
Gold again.

All his leaves
Fall'n at length,
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough,
Naked strength.

Babi · « **Reply #834 on:** October 28, 2009, 09:02:00 AM »

Seems like all I'm finding lately are winter poems. Or very, very long
poems which I'm too lazy to type. Not to mention my fingers are cold.
It's between weather here; some wet days, some nice days, too warm to turn on the central heating, chill enough to bring out the area heater
at night.

mrssherlock · « **Reply #835 on:** October 28, 2009, 01:10:32 PM »

We've gotten into the fall rainy season; snow level on Mt Hood getting lower each new storm.

Hope this is not a repeat but it's worth it if it is:

James Whitcomb Riley. 1853–1916

"When the Frost is on the Punkin"

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,     5
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here—     10
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—     15
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;     20
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps     25
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!...
I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me—     30
I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #836 on:** October 28, 2009, 01:13:26 PM »

So Glad You Found us serenesheila - sometimes we do share a poem we have written but mostly we share poems that we read that we would like others to know about and enjoy.

Babi I know - I have had the heat on several days this week - we need the rain so badly but the cold grey days have slowed me down.

Pat Tennyson's Oak sounds like a kaleidoscope of color doesn't it. Tucked among the Live Oak in this part of the country we do have some Post Oak and Red Oak that bring us color. They have not turned yet but when they do the color is a deep maroon. I like to cut a small branch of leaves and add a few pine cones and pears to the center of my table - starts to get me in the mood for the Holidays that are just around the corner.

Jackie just saw your post - I love it - "And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;" how much f un. Another wonderful line "And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;"

BarbStAubrey · « **Reply #837 on:** October 28, 2009, 01:25:48 PM »

Here is a poignant poem about an Oak...

The Fallen Oak
Giovanni Pascoli

Where shade once was, the oak tree in a sprawl
Of death no longer writhes against the wind.
The people say: I see now. It was tall!

And here and there slight nests of spring now find
Themselves dependent on a severed height.
The people say: I see now. It was kind!

The people praise. The people cut. Twilight
Comes and they haul their loads off. Through mid-air
A cry... a blackcap crying out in flight,

Seeking a nest that is no longer there.

JoanK · « **Reply #838 on:** October 28, 2009, 03:02:19 PM »

Hi, Sheila: great to see you here.

mrssherlock · « **Reply #839 on:** October 28, 2009, 07:08:23 PM »

After Apple-Picking

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

Robert Frost

This poem validates Frost's authenticity in farming subjects. It pokes a big hole in romantic fantasies of growing your own food, getting close to the land

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Author Topic: Poetry Page (Read 755833 times)