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The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

A platform to express and share your enthusiasm and passion for poetry. What are your treasured poems and poets? Don't hesitate to showcase the poems you've penned yourself!
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Penelope

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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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giselle:

I looked up 'gorm' because I wasn't sure if it is a word .. it is but means basically the same as 'gormless'. So you could have said 'my being gorm' and it would still make sense.
Yes, I was completely without gorm. LOL

I loved that last poem so much. Having been on the guided tour of the Highlands and having been to Culloden and heard about the Jacobite rebellion and Bonnie Prince Charlie so recently; this poem reminded me of Flora MacDonald so forelornly waiting for Charlie's promised return.

It is lovely though. I like the line about her Mother 'locking the stable door after the horse has bolted' rephrased.

The traffic signs in the highlands are in Gaelic as well as English so we heard and learned a bit about the Gaelic Language. Scottish Gaelic differs somewhat from Irish Gaelic it seems. Scottish Gaelic being more Germanic, so we were informed.

You have taken the east from me, you have taken the west from me;
you have taken what is before me and what is behind me;
you have taken the moon, you have taken the sun from me;
and my fear is great that you have taken God from me!


Oooh, how heartrending. It reminds me of the song by S&G which I also thought very beautiful in its bleakness.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.



Kathy's Song:

I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls.

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies.

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day.

And as a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I.
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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realiz

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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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"Gormless is now mainly an informal British English word that describes somebody foolish, lacking sense or initiative. This comes from a defunct term, usually spelt gaum, a dialect word meaning care or attention; in turn this derives from an Old Norse word gaumr. Though rarely recorded, at one time gaum-like was also around, for someone with an intelligent look about them. Curiously, the verb to gorm also existed, which meant to stare vacantly, implying almost the opposite; but this may be related to the Irish gom for a stupid-looking person and so may be unconnected with the other sense of gorm."

So, when you gorm you're not very gaum-like.

You have taken the east from me, you have taken the west from me;
you have taken what is before me and what is behind me;
you have taken the moon, you have taken the sun from me;
and my fear is great that you have taken God from me!

Oooh, how heartrending.
I agree, very. And I like the song as well.


And here is our next poem:

THE DONKEY
G.K. Chesterton

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.


There was something about this poem that I do not like. I thought I knew what the message is supposed to be, that we are all worthwhile inside, that god sees the value in even the lowest creatures of earth, but it still felt negative to me. I read a few analyses on this poem and was surprised at what I read. Particularly, I disagreed with what was said about self-worth and this poems message about self-worth: "Chesterton’s poem teaches us a lesson about self-worth. ....Simply put, Chesterton’s words are a timeless reminder to never give up even when life is at its darkest because our moment of greatness could be just around the corner and it would be a shame to miss it."

To me, this is not what self-worth is all about, finding a moment where you can be adored by others, or finding a moment you can finally 'show' others you are worthwhile. It is about accepting and loving yourself for who you
are and being content with being the best you can be. Dreaming about having your moment of fame, especially coming from being 'chosen' by others, is the result of very low self-worth or self-esteem.

I think if I turn this poem around and view it from the Jesus side, his choosing of the donkey, then I can see if differently. It is the choosing that matters, not the being chosen. Now it is better.
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giselle

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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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So perhaps Penny was more ‘gaumless’ than ‘gormless’ … or maybe she was too busy ‘gorming’ (verb) and fell down the stairs as a result … ?

“Donal Og” is a compelling poem that really conveys deep heart break, loss, disappointment and loneliness. I like the comparison with Simon and Garfunkel, they wrote so many songs of this ilk, like Scarborough Fair, Sounds of Silence and The Boxer. It also reminds me of the Pierre Berton book that my kids loved – ‘The World of Og’, really fitting given the meaning of Og in Irish.

Chesterton was certainly an interesting guy. Found following interpretation of The Donkey on a Christian site: “Chesterton captures Palm Sunday from the perspective of the donkey that Jesus rode.”(Journey with Jesus)

This interpretation makes sense to me. The donkey rose from unlikely beginnings as an unlikely creature in appearance and otherwise, always carrying inside secret potential for greatness, which it realized by giving Jesus a ride that day. I can see this connects with ‘self-worth. The donkey is saying I am what I am, regardless of roots or appearance and I have the potential for greatness, which others do not or cannot even know. And really the donkey is right, beyond bearing Jesus, it is one of the world’s greatest beasts of burden and working animals and has performed untold service for humans. Given this, I’m really not sure why the donkey has acquired such a lowly image.
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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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Well, I don't know whether it is strictly scriptural, but a donkey carried Mary to Bethlehem where she gave birth to Jesus.. So a donkey is depicted as carrying the Lord to his birth, and to his death.

The charm of a donkey is that it looks meek and gentle. I don't agree with Chesterton about its having a monstrous head, although its bray, I agree, is quite alarming.

The point, I suppose, is that one cannot look proud and pompous whilst riding a donkey. As one would on a horse or even a camel.

The whole idea about Jesus is that he was meek and lowly, son of a carpenter, or illigitimate. Born in a squat. Whereas Buddha was highborn but rejected his riches. It is interesting to compare the attitudes implied in these stories.

I'm thinking that horses are proud and beautiful......and camels are quite lofty looking. But donkeys are dear and loveable.

I agree with Liz, Chesterton is missing the point in the symbolism of the donkey. Well, I think so anyway...
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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giselle

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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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yes, and the wise men are depicted arriving on camels not donkeys ... and they do look lofty, at least if one takes those nativity scenes to heart! I guess the camel is higher on the pecking order than the donkey, maybe due to its height and sort of dignified bearing, but they are stubborn and they spit, which is kind of nasty ... :x
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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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Here is one that I think we have looked at before, or at least I have.

Code: Select all

Don’t Let That Horse ...
Don’t Let That Horse ...
By Lawrence Ferlinghetti b. 1919 Lawrence Ferlinghetti 
Don’t let that horse 
                              eat that violin 


    cried Chagall’s mother 


                                     But he   
                      kept right on 
                                     painting 


And became famous 


And kept on painting 
                              The Horse With Violin In Mouth 


And when he finally finished it 
he jumped up upon the horse 
                                        and rode away   
          waving the violin 


And then with a low bow gave it 
to the first naked nude he ran across 



And there were no strings   
                                     attached

Good poem, although not really sure what it means. It reminds me of my adult son telling me of a memory of his from his growing up years: I had told him that he should not run with scissor because he might fall and so he took the pair of scissors outside and ran up and down the driveway until he was satisfied that I was wrong and came back inside.

Here is a link to some paintings by Marc Chagall.
http://www.chagallpaintings.org/
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Penelope

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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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I found this image of one of Chagall's paintings and it is a bit like the poem:-

http://www.artneedlepoint.com/artists/c ... by-chagall

incomprehensible, but somehow, I like both.
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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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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I suspect we're dealing with surrealist poetry about a surrealist painter .. of course, that is a contradiction because surrealist poem could not be 'about' anything, by definition, but rather a poem that deals with logical or reason based 'things' that are not typically associated, like Chagall's mother, horse, violin, nude. But I think there is some logic here. According to Wiki, Chagalls mother did not want him to be a painter because it wasn't practical (i.e. he's going to be poor) but he continued anyway and became very successful. Also, Chagall did paint all those 'things' listed and the author has strung them together in what resembles a silly tale, but the tale is only silly if we apply standard measures of reason. If we are prepared to be surprised, to let go of reason even momentarily and let things athat are normally not associated be associated, then there is a chance to explore the poem or a Chagall painting. The physical structure of the poem might also suggest surrealism, where the words form improbable sequences and almost suggest geometric shapes .. I think Ferlinghetti is having a bit of fun with this too. His closing lines have double meanings and twist back on themselves.
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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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I suspect we're dealing with surrealist poetry about a surrealist painter .. of course, that is a contradiction because surrealist poem could not be 'about' anything, by definition
Bravo, Giselle, I think you've got it. It is a surrealist painting in poetic form.
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Re: The Rattle Bag: The D & E Poems

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The Dream About Our Master, William Shakespeare[/b]

This midnight dream whispered to me:
Be swift as a runner, take the lane
Into the green mystery
Beyond the farm and haystack at Stone.
You leave tomorrow, not to return.


Hands that were fastened in a vise,
A useless body, rooted feet,
While time like a bell thundered the loss,
Witnessed the closing of the gate.
Thus sleep and waking both betrayed.

I had one glimpse: In a close of shadow
There rose the form of a manor-house,
And in a corner a curtained window.
All was lost in a well of trees,
Yet I knew for certain this was the place.

If the hound of air, the ropes of shade,
And the gate between that is no gate,
Had not so held me and delayed
These cowardly limbs of bone and blood,
I would have met him as he lived!

HYAM BLUTZIK
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