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A Favorite Poem 
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
Still trying to navigate on my small phone. Strange but i spent ages finding The Darkling Thrush. Read it at the turn of the century. Was walking the dogs this week and the poem suddenly came to mind. Could not remember the name or author. It was the first day of the year not the last. I live in the tropics not in bleak UK.Though the lush summer growth is dying back now. Was morning not evening and was feeling down . Looked up and saw a line of birds quarelling in the trees. Not even the thrushes. Fork tailed drongos. Suddenly I felt better and remembered snatches of this poem


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Wed Jan 02, 2019 11:38 am
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One more post ought to do it.

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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
That’s the lovely thing about poetry; when you read a line or two and the poet describes your feelings and thoughts, whether hurt or joy. It’s like someone reaching out through history and taking your hand.


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Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini


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Harry Marks
Wed Jan 02, 2019 12:35 pm
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One more post ought to do it.

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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
O grant me a house by the beach of a bay,
Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play
With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers!
And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray,
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
Andrew Lang


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Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini


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Harry Marks
Wed Jan 02, 2019 12:42 pm
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One more post ought to do it.

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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
O grant me a house by the beach of a bay,
Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play
With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers!
And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray,
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
Andrew Lang


_________________
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini


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Litwitlou, Saffron
Wed Jan 02, 2019 12:42 pm
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
Yes Penny. I was reading that if Hardy had realised the thrush singing was an aggressive territorial thing he probably wouldn't have used it. I disagree. He probably did know anyway. It wasn't that the song was sweet it was that the thrush bothered and kept going. Just like my drongos quarelling. It's what they do. Life goes on


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Thu Jan 03, 2019 10:59 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
A new favorite poem. Every time I think of it I smile.

High Dangerous
Catherine Pierce

is what my sons call the flowers—
purple, white, electric blue—

pom-pomming bushes all along
the beach town streets.

I can’t correct them into
hydrangeas, or I won’t.

Bees ricochet in and out
of the clustered petals,

and my sons panic and dash
and I tell them about good

insects, pollination, but the truth is
I want their fear-box full of bees.

This morning the radio
said tender age shelters.

This morning the glaciers
are retreating. How long now

until the space-print backpack
becomes district-policy clear?

We’re almost to the beach,
and High dangerous! my sons

yell again, their joy in having
spotted something beautiful,

and called it what it is.



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Thu Mar 07, 2019 8:06 pm
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One more post ought to do it.

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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
Lovely!

My husband couldn’t ever remember the name ‘Magnolia’ and always called our gorgeous specimen, Gengis Khan.


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Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini


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Saffron
Fri Mar 08, 2019 4:30 am
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One more post ought to do it.

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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
Lovely!

My husband couldn’t ever remember the name ‘Magnolia’ and always called our gorgeous specimen, Gengis Khan.


_________________
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini


Fri Mar 08, 2019 4:31 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
There are 3 things that Pierce weaves together in this poem that give it its punch - lovely images of nature, the delightful innocence of childhood and 2 of the threats of our world. I am always stunned by poems that use beauty juxtaposed with one of the difficult, painful, tragic aspects of the human condition.



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Fri Mar 08, 2019 9:30 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
The author of a favorite poem of mine died today, W. S. Merwin. Here is the poem and then following is a link to the NYT obituary for Merwin.

Separation

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.


https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/15/obit ... mFWPrGJlT0



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Fri Mar 15, 2019 7:58 pm
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
I love John Prine and I know he writes lyrics, but they are just as much stand-alone poems. Here is a song/poem from his latest album. I especially like the bolded lines.

Boundless Love
John Prine

I woke up this morning to a garbage truck
Looks like this old horseshoe's done run out of luck
If I came home, would you let me in?
Fry me some pork chops and forgive my sin?

Surround me with your boundless love
Confound me with your boundless love
I was drowning in the sea, lost as I could be
When you found me with your boundless love

Sometimes my old heart is like a washing machine
It bounces around 'til my soul comes clean
And when I'm clean and hung out to dry
I'm gonna make you laugh until you cry


Surround me with your boundless love
Confound me with your boundless love
I was drowning in the sea, lost as I could be
When you found me with your boundless love

If by chance I should find myself at risk
A-falling from…



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Harry Marks
Thu Mar 21, 2019 4:52 pm
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
This is a new poem to me and now a favorite! I just came across what you see below, I am not even sure if this is the who poem. I just saw it and loved it and wanted to post it.

I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

—Rainer Maria Rilke



Fri Jul 26, 2019 9:07 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
I suspected there was more to the poem I just posted. Here is the whole poem -

I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone
Rainer Maria Rilke - 1875-1926


I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.



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Fri Jul 26, 2019 9:13 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
.
.

People at Night
By Rainer Maria Rilke (1875–1926)

THE NIGHTS were not made for crowds, and they sever
You from your neighbour, and you shall never
Seek him, defiantly, at night.
But if you make your dark house light,
To look on strangers in your room,
You must reflect—on whom.

False lights that on men’s faces play
Distort them gruesomely.
You look upon a disarray,
A world that seems to reel and sway,
A waving, glittering sea.

On foreheads gleams a yellow shine,
Where thoughts are chased away,
Their glances flicker mad from wine,
And to the words they say
Strange heavy gestures make reply
That struggle in the buzzing room;
And they say always “I” and “I,”
And mean—they know not whom.


_________________
Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:
But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.
Matthew 5:38,39


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Fri Jul 26, 2019 9:24 am
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Post Re: A Favorite Poem
The Strange Case of Mr. Fortague's Dissapointment
— Ogden Nash

Mr.Lionel Fortague said he would settle down on
Innisfree, the home of iridescent chitchat.
He said he would a small cabin build there, of clay and
wattles made.
Everyone said did he mean he would build a small
cabin there, made of clay and wattles?
Mr.Lionel Fortague said yes,but his way of putting it
was more poetic.
Everyone said maybe, but they were all out of wattles…
He a fierce-looking dog at an annual clearance sale
bought, and it the people of Innisfree one by one
to bite he instructed.
My, he was disappointed:
He had forgotten that a bargain dog never bites.


_________________
Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:
But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.
Matthew 5:38,39


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Saffron
Fri Jul 26, 2019 9:32 am
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