eleneariel | Entries tagged with poetry

From the chapter called "Got Marjoram?" or Why I Don't Have Any Poetry

"I own about five thousand books, but until I researched and wrote this chapter, among them was not a single volume of poetry of any kind. The reason is that I have never cottoned much to poetry. Most of it bores me, although I feel a little guilty about this, and in an idealized version of myself in my mind, I spend the occasional evening poring over a book of verse, cat on my lap, and a hot cup of tea close at hand."

There are certain poets who can capture my interest and stir my soul, but for the most part I can echo McWhorter's sentiment. I'd like to enjoy poetry, and I'd like to learn more about it - and I plan to in that mythical, idealized "someday" version of myself.

I would just like to point out, for any who haven't noticed yet, that today is Friday the 13th.

ALSO, I just heard on the radio that the world was supposed to end today, but apparently it hasn't.

It was also supposed to end yesterday, but I guess that didn't work out either.

Which means that I have to go to work.

And under the "So good, it should be posted twice, and also because it fits with the theme of this post" category, I once again give you:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

(Robert Frost)

I love Valentine's Day -- it's also my parent's anniversary. Twenty-seven years today!

( Two of my favorite love poems )

When I was six, my dad and I memorized "Paul Revere's Ride." I can still quote large chunks of it, and oh, it brings back such good memories.

But on the occasion of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's 200th birthday, I offer this:

A Psalm Of Life

Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

( Life is real! Life is earnest! )

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Here I depart, then, to be up and doing. Carpe diem!

For

ruthette's Valentine's Day Poetry Drive:

Most of the poem is under the cut, but I can't bear to hide the last stanza ...

( Variations on the Word Sleep )

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

-- Margaret Atwood

Where ever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.

...

"Lets frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted, "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!" --and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."

...

So where ever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two
Can stick together," says Pooh, says he.
"That's how it is," says Pooh.

_{A.A. Milne}

I have ringlets in my hair and pink and red flowers strewn over my black clothes, and to celebrate the day I'm going to go sit in the coffee shop drinking carmel mocchiato and eating a bar of World's Finest Chocolate while reading a tiny red-covered book of love poetry.

Yes, for lunch.

Happy anniversary to my parents today!

The library director has asked for my suggestions on what new poetry books to order (he, er, thinks I'm well-read poetry wise...?), and especially would like poetry on the subject of love. So. Any suggestions on great poets who wrote great love poetry--or even moderately good love poetry--would be appreciated. I'm thinking along the lines of Poe's love poems, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, etc.

*is still joyful*

I can't help but find this beautiful:

Quando morro' lungo la terra mossa,
Non piantate il cipresso e la mortella,
Io la mia tomba non la voglio bella,
Ma giovevole altrui piu'che si possa...

Piantateci una vite. Il sui giocondo,
Il suo celeste grappolo spremuto,
diverra' vino ghiotto e rubicondo.
E cosi' benche' morto, il mio tributo
Ai vivi paghero', rendendo al mondo
Qualche goccia del vin che gli ho bevuto.

[When earth's disturbed upon my death
Plant not myrtle on my grave
Nor cyprus beauty will I have
But joyful use of mother earth.

Plant there a vine
Whose heavenly fruit, when squeezed
Yields ruby drops of wine.
Thus my tribute to the living,
I, though dead, can still repay
To the world my wine I'm giving.]

(written by someone named Olindo Guerrini. He was, of course, Italian.)

Current Mood: anxious

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Joie de vivre

i thank you God for most this amazing day

Entries tagged with poetry

Year of the Book: A tid-bit from "Doing Our Own Thing" by John McWhorter

Public Service Announcements

<3

Happy birthday, Mr. Longfellow

A Psalm Of Life

One of my favorite love poems

Friendship

In honor of the day

query - for poetry type people

Morbid thought of the day

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July 2011

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