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The Poet of Ceder St.
Never mind the long silence, I have enjoyed Hoke’s posts and thoughts on Nietzsche. I plan to take some time with him and his solitudes and renunciations. I have recently been spending some evenings with a fine poet named Warren Carrier, father of Wintry-Minded Ethan. Conversations with him have inspired me to try again to…
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Excelsior!
Excelsior by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, ’mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad; his eye beneath, Flashed like a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents…
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Poeta Loquitur
I haven’t had a chance to listen to much yet, and what I have listened to hasn’t really inspired me to listen to much more, but I figure some of you might be interested: I found a link over at Salon to several downloadable CDs worth of Dylan Thomas reading his and others’ poetry, with…
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I’m in a Drayton mood
It’s so well known that it hardly needs posting… but I’m in a Drayton mood, I have posting privileges, and it should come as no surprise to anyone that I would spend my time doing things that hardly need doing. Idea, LXI by Michael Drayton Since there’s no help, come, let us kiss and part;…
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Les Yeux des pauvres
While reading about the devastation occasioned by Hurricane Katrina, I came across this prose poem by Baudelaire. It, of course, was written long before our southern cities and towns were ravaged, having been first published in 1864, and I’m not sure it has much to contribute to a discussion of the disaster (at any rate,…
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Things…
Nemerov’s quantification of the common man’s life brings this poem to mind. (Honestly, it doesn’t take much to bring this poem to my mind.) Though speech does not enter into it, living seems to be a collection of things, but those things are tricky. The Man on the Dump by Wallace Stevens Day creeps down.…
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epic verse
Words uttered by Heidi after she has begrudgingly agreed to lend her husband a pen: Goodbye noble pen! Ah me, your purchase was bitterness! Why did I, with such dutiful care, select you from among the many inscribers of ink that rested in their caps upon the shelf? If only you could live out your…
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UPDATE
IMPORTANTIt should now be safe to post. Please let me know if you experience any problems with the site. For more details about recent changes, follow the “more” link below.
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Long Winded
Mike’s posting of the Masters poem “Silence” made up my mind to post this Nemerov poem that I just encountered. Life Cycle of Common Man by Howard Nemerov Roughly figured, this man of moderate habits, This average consumer of the middle class, Consumed in the course of his average life span Just under half a…
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Garden Yeats
Down by the Salley Gardens by W. B. Yeats Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a…