Poem of the moment

Saffron · Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 4:21 am Post subject:

DWill,
I knew you would like the James Wright poem. He is still alive and I assume he must still be writing - if the poets at the Festival are any indication, a poet never stops writing; maybe stop publishing but not writing. James Arlington Wright was born in Martins Ferry, Ohio, on December 13, 1927.

The festival was wonderful. The rain did not come until about 10PM on Thursday night, just as I was crawling into the tent. By Friday morning the rain had let up some and by mid morning it was on and off again misty rain.

I am back.

Saffron

James Wright

DWill · Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2008 7:21 am Post subject:

Saffron,
Great. You're a trouper.
DWill

Saffron · Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2008 10:40 am Post subject: Kay Ryan

The Niagara River
by Kay Ryan

As though
the river were
a floor, we position
our table and chairs
upon it, eat, and
have conversation.
As it moves along,
we notice—as
calmly as though
dining room paintings
were being replaced—
the changing scenes
along the shore. We
do know, we do
know this is the
Niagara River, but
it is hard to remember
what that means.

Saffron · Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2008 5:39 pm Post subject:

The times are nightfall, look, their light grows less
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

The times are nightfall, look, their light grows less;
The times are winter, watch, a world undone:
They waste, they wither worse; they as they run
Or bring more or more blazon man’s distress.
And I not help. Nor word now of success:
All is from wreck, here, there, to rescue one—
Work which to see scarce so much as begun
Makes welcome death, does dear forgetfulness.

Or what is else? There is your world within.
There rid the dragons, root out there the sin.
Your will is law in that small commonweal…

Saffron · Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 6:06 pm Post subject:

Hide And Seek
by Kay Ryan

It's hard not
to jump out
instead of
waiting to be
found. it's
hard to be
alone so long
and then hear
someone come
around. It's
like some form
of skin's developed
in the air
that, rather
than have torn,
you tear.

DWill · Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 6:13 pm Post subject:

That seems so true to how it felt to be playing hide and seek and knowing that the seeker is nearby. You do want to jump out (at least I did) instead of being found. I wonder why. Ryan is good at what she does.
DWill

Saffron · Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2008 6:23 pm Post subject:

The piece of the poem that hit today --

it's
hard to be
alone so long
and then hear
someone come
around.

I agree with you DW, I had the same sensation of wanting to jump out rather than be found. Curious! I guess it is all the pent up excitement wanting to burst out. This poem came from Ryan's collection called The Niagara River. I am enjoying reading her work.

Saffron · Posted: Mon Oct 27, 2008 8:15 pm Post subject: Sappho

A friend has promised to bring me some bittersweet vine to decorate for the Thanksgiving holiday. It put me in mind of Sappho.

With his venom
irresistible
and bittersweet

that loosener
of limbs, Love

reptile-like
strikes me down

Here is another translation of the same piece --

Once again limb-loosening Love makes me tremble,
the bitter-sweet, irresistible creature.

Here is a bit of information on Sappho copied from Poets.org

Sappho is not only one of the few women poets we know of from antiquity, but also is one of the greatest lyric poets from any age. Most of her poems were meant to be sung by one person to the accompaniment of the lyre (hence the name, "lyric" poetry). Rather than addressing the gods or recounting epic narratives such as those of Homer, Sappho's verses speak from one individual to another. They speak simply and directly to the "bittersweet" difficulties of love. Many critics and readers alike have responded to the personal tone and urgency of her verses, and an abundance of translations of her fragments are available today.

Rose Kolarich · Posted: Wed Oct 29, 2008 10:44 pm Post subject:

An old friend of mine recently gave birth to a daughter so I was reminded of this poem by Australian poet Judith Wright:

Woman to Child

You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see
hung upon my dreaming blood.

There moved the multitudinous stars,
and coloured birds and fishes moved.
There swam the sliding continents.
All time lay rolled in me, and sense,
and love that knew not its beloved.

O node and focus of the world;
I hold you deep within that well
you shall escape and not escape-
that mirrors still your sleeping shape;
that nurtures still your crescent cell.

I wither and you break from me;
yet though you dance in living light
I am the earth, I am the root,
I am the stem that fed the fruit,
the link that joins you to the night.

DWill · Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:21 am Post subject:

Rosie, that poem illustrates how different the experiences of the genders are. I generalize, but a father's feelings can't be anything like that. I know mine weren't. Well, women are lucky in that regard. But still men wouldn't be offering to change places!
DWill

Saffron · Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:33 am Post subject:

I wither and you break from me;
yet though you dance in living light
I am the earth, I am the root,
I am the stem that fed the fruit,
the link that joins you to the night.

Wow, I love the last stanza! Thanks, Rose. I am so glad to have more people posting on the poetry forum. I can't wait to share this poem with my daughters.

Saffron · Posted: Fri Oct 31, 2008 7:59 am Post subject: A little Shakespeare

A little Shakespeare for Halloween!

On NPR's All Things Considered second graders take on Macbeth's three witches.
Three Witches on NPR

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

from Macbeth

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder.

Enter the three Witches.

1 WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd.
3 WITCH. Harpier cries:—'tis time! 'tis time!
1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
3 WITCH. Scale of dragon; tooth of wolf;
Witches' mummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;
Root of hemlock digg'd i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Jew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips;
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.
ALL. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
2 WITCH. Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

Saffron · Posted: Sat Nov 01, 2008 4:49 pm Post subject:

I don't really know why but for today two pieces of love poems.
NOTE: I inserted the dashes to represent an open space or indentation; as I can't figure out how to do it any other way.

George Herbert (1593-1633)

Love Bade Me Welcome

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
-Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
-From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
-If I lacked any thing.

And

Ben Jonson (1572-1637)

Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
-And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
-And I'll not look for wine.

Rose Kolarich · Posted: Sun Nov 02, 2008 1:39 am Post subject:

Rose Kolarich · Posted: Sun Nov 02, 2008 1:50 am Post subject:

I love that Herbert poem Saffron, thank you, especially the first two lines:

"Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
-Guilty of dust and sin."

The poem seems to be about communication between different parts of the self: the soul which holds memories of sin, and the new emotion not yet admitted entrance but promising hope- love. Because of the personification of "soul" and "love" I also read the poem as being about communication between two people


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