tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post2441311261869896486..comments2024-03-17T03:42:21.277-05:00Comments on LEARNING CURVE ON THE ECLIPTIC: Memorable Moments in PoetryTwilighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-11061661790589586522015-03-19T09:37:26.134-05:002015-03-19T09:37:26.134-05:00DC ~ Oh - I do like this one - and its very mean...DC ~ Oh - I do like this one - and its very meaningful end message. <br />:-) Thank you!<br /><br />I don't "do" Facebook, though I have been known to access some parts of it, probably due to once signing up to join but almost immediately deciding it was a mistake and de-activating myself. I did try your link, but no that gate was closed. :-/Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-92161258211076027942015-03-19T00:45:55.329-05:002015-03-19T00:45:55.329-05:00Were you afraid of the dark as a child?
I admit, I...Were you afraid of the dark as a child?<br />I admit, I often was.<br />The dark seemed awful, cold and wild,<br />it frightened me because...<br /><br />The things that made me safe weren't there,<br />the dark contained no light.<br />No depth, and often cold and bare,<br />with phantoms I might fight.<br /><br />Now I see some around me now,<br />behaving in this way.<br />Not knowing who to trust, or how,<br />they know not night from day.<br /><br />I want to help them understand,<br />that love, can cure their fear.<br />I'll guide you there, just take my hand,<br />your fear will disappear.DChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03404195170822950372noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-41500153696287786482015-03-19T00:38:36.821-05:002015-03-19T00:38:36.821-05:00Thanks Annie!! ...that means a lot coming from you...Thanks Annie!! ...that means a lot coming from you :)<br />....if you like here's my FB...that is, if you do FB...if not it's ok too :)<br /><a href="https://www.facebook.com/michael.vansant.395" rel="nofollow">here</a>DChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03404195170822950372noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-55761721757906699112015-03-18T17:44:29.245-05:002015-03-18T17:44:29.245-05:00DC~ Oh goody!! A real poet - thank you for sharin...DC~ Oh goody!! A real poet - thank you for sharing your lovely words here, I enjoyed your two pieces a lot. :-)<br /><br />Yes, it must be the Pisces poetry god getting to us right now, either urging us to either read or write for him/her. <br /><br />I have Jupiter in Pisces exactly to the degree semi-sextile my Aqua Sun, so I look on them as Siamese twinnies, alternately helping and annoying one another. Your Sun is close to my husband's - his b'day is coming up on 22nd (1 degree Aries). I haven't noticed any poetic inspirations from him recently though, in spite of his Merc and Saturn being in Pisces. ;-)<br /><br />Putting up with it?? Tsk - I'm overjoyed to have you sharing it DC. <br /><br />Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-4780425762186274912015-03-18T16:46:30.536-05:002015-03-18T16:46:30.536-05:00...so strange to find this post today....I've ......so strange to find this post today....I've been writing poems the past week....I always dabbled but lately they have really rocketed.....interesting....here's 2...<br />"I met the young good morning,<br />my darkness, it made bright.<br />Together we were forming,<br />word-clouds engulfed in light.<br /><br />Discussing our attachments,<br />with words direct and true.<br />We shared our re-enactments,<br />as stars they often do."<br /><br />It's light seems never ending,<br />yet evening always comes.<br />Hold-tight the truth it's sending,<br />like cavalcades of drums."...<br /><br />"It happened unexpectedly<br />I met the rain today.<br />We shared a smoke selectively<br />through language none can say.<br /><br />It's beauty touched me to the core<br />a scent so fine and true.<br />And though I knew love not before<br />but after that, I knew."....I won't bore you with the others...a half dozen more...strange, but what I noticed more than anything was that the people around me....especially the last 2-3 days....have been my inspiration...maybe since I have natal moon in Aquarius (social)....that could be some sort of clue considering the Pisces thing too....which I am highly connected with (venus & merc in Pisces) as well as Sun only 2-3 degrees Aries :)..it's been a poetic week for me....really gratifying tho...Thanks for putting up with it Annie!DChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03404195170822950372noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-42960315755233513932015-03-17T15:43:17.798-05:002015-03-17T15:43:17.798-05:00Anon/kidd ~ Thanks for the translation. I enjoye...Anon/kidd ~ Thanks for the translation. I enjoyed the read and the pictures the poem conjures up. :-)<br /><br />I "Googled" Michael D. Higgins afterwards - I hadn't realised that he is THAT Michael Higgins - an illustrious figure in Ireland, President as well as poet, and with multiple other interests. Impressive!Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-64508509787550045822015-03-17T15:01:25.569-05:002015-03-17T15:01:25.569-05:00Bank manager faints at the mayor's ball"....Bank manager faints at the mayor's ball"...<br /><br />The mayor was dancing with her golden chain<br />not dangling, but nestling on her ample bosom<br />when she turned to the bank manager and said:<br />“Come on outta that and give us a dance!”<br />He was a frightened man but he knew his duty<br />“We’ll make it a slow one,” she said and he trembled.<br />Three brandies later for the benefit of the bank and a safe branch,<br />his call came.<br />“Hold me tight,” she said, “I love a tight squeeze for the waltz,<br />and I’ve no time for this highfalutin stuff.”<br />The first citizen and the bank danced cheek-to-cheek,<br />every usurious fibre was tested<br />as she breathed on his bald head.<br />She joked occasionally as she laughed and missed a step.<br />“Oh, if I had you in my time on the kitchen floor,” she said<br />“I’d give you a one-two-three you’d never forget.”<br /><br />The perspiration beaded his brow, his legs turned to jelly,<br />his eyes blurred as he sank to the floor.<br />“Dear Jesus, he’s fainted!” the first lady said.<br />“What lack of respect for the dignity of my office.<br />But then I’ve never trusted the banks.”<br />They picked him up and said he needed air<br />but, taking her handbag and walking away,<br />she coldly looked at ’em all and simply said,<br />with all the dignity of the office:<br />“It’s a poor thing at the mayor’s ball<br />when the Chain can’t waltz with safety<br />with those who for our own account<br />bought the little box we carry it in.<br />It isn’t air he needs, but a box.”<br />Blowing her nose, she laughed,<br />and the band played on at the mayor’s ball.<br /><br />(...I Think?)<br /><br />- Michael D. Higgins<br /><br />kidd.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-35588578980638495772015-03-17T13:37:16.047-05:002015-03-17T13:37:16.047-05:00Anon/kidd
Awww - Robin Williams at his best - lov...Anon/kidd<br /><br />Awww - Robin Williams at his best - lovely clip, thank you!<br /><br />I think I need a glass or two of something stronger than this English Breakfast Tea to properly understand Mr Higgins! :-)<br /><br />Awwww - again! - Love that movie and that scene, and that poem, they never fail to bring tears, which this time plopped right into my tea! <br /><br />Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-23053194187921984392015-03-17T12:35:34.341-05:002015-03-17T12:35:34.341-05:00- What will your verse be?
https://youtu.be/R_zsM...- What will your verse be? <br />https://youtu.be/R_zsMwCOoEs<br /><br />- come on outa that and give us a dance!<br />https://youtu.be/AIlH1bNEU34<br /><br /><br />- silence the pianos, and with muffled drum ...<br />https://youtu.be/b_a-eXIoyYA<br /><br /><br />kidd.<br /><br /><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-37094032395215277882015-03-17T12:08:58.571-05:002015-03-17T12:08:58.571-05:00Anon/Kidd ~ Hmmm - some interesting contributions...Anon/Kidd ~ Hmmm - some interesting contributions, many thanks! They're mostly new to me, fodder for future investigations. :-) I especially like the style of the first one by Frank O'Hara...the surprise in the last line. <br /><br />Reminded me, a bit, of Billy Collins' style - this is my favourite of Collins:<br /><br /><i>Walking Across The Atlantic<br /><br />I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach<br />before stepping onto the first wave.<br /><br />Soon I am walking across the Atlantic<br />thinking about Spain,<br />checking for whales, waterspouts.<br />I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.<br />Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.<br /><br />But for now I try to imagine what<br />this must look like to the fish below,<br />the bottoms of my feet appearing, disappearing. </i>Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-14805318632048779132015-03-17T11:53:54.209-05:002015-03-17T11:53:54.209-05:00mike ~ Thanks for those. Yes I forgot to mention ...mike ~ Thanks for those. Yes I forgot to mention the Irish connection to poetry today (St. Pat's). Oliver Goldsmith was Irish-born too, as well as W.B. Yeats from among my culled lot. :-)<br /><br />Your mention of C.S. Lewis' "tingling taste of oranges" sent me scurrying around the net trying to recall a poem I liked, though hadn't memorised - it mentioned oranges....Took me while, but here it is, by Louis MacNeice also Irish, (who compiled a good volume about "Astrology" too, it has been mentioned among my posts here and there.<br /><br />The "orange" poem - actually turns out it was a tangerine - is this:<br /><br /><i>Snow <br />by Louis MacNeice<br /><br />The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was<br />Spawning snow and pink rose against it<br />Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:<br />World is suddener than we fancy it.<br /><br />World is crazier and more of it than we think,<br />Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion<br />A tangerine and spit the pips and feel<br />The drunkenness of things being various.<br /><br />And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world<br />Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes --<br />On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands--<br />There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses. </i><br /><br />What a great line:<br /><i><b>The drunkenness of things being various.</b></i><br />Twilighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14138621610593773784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-29452839506123253222015-03-17T10:51:02.035-05:002015-03-17T10:51:02.035-05:00... I was trotting along and suddenly
it started r...<br /><br /><br />... I was trotting along and suddenly<br />it started raining and snowing<br />and you said it was hailing<br />but hailing hits you on the head<br />hard so it was really snowing and<br />raining and I was in such a hurry<br />to meet you but the traffic<br />was acting exactly like the sky<br />and suddenly I see a headline <br />LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!...<br /><br />- Lana Turner has collapsed!, Frank O’Hara<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />... You do not do, you do not do<br />Any more, black shoe<br />In which I have lived like a foot<br />For thirty years, poor and white,<br />Barely daring to breathe or Achoo ...<br /><br />- Daddy, Sylvia Plath<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />... Round many western islands have I been<br />Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.<br />Oft of one wide expanse had I been told<br />That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;<br />Yet never did I breathe its pure serene<br />Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold ...<br /><br />- On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer, John Keats<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />... I will not eat them here or there<br />I do not like then anywhere!<br />You do not like green eggs and ham?<br />I do not like them Sam-I-Am.<br /><br />- Green eggs and ham, Doctor Seuss<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />... Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,<br />for ever blest, since here did lie<br />and here with lissome limbs did run<br />beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,<br />Lúthien Tinúviel<br /><br />more fair then mortal tongue can tell.<br />Though all to ruin fell the world<br />and were dissolved and backwards hurled<br />unmade into the old abyss,<br />yet were its making good, for this---<br />the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea---<br />that Lúthien for a time should be."<br /><br />- Beren's Song, J.R.R. Tolkien <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />... "He's sick!" wailed all the hipsters, <br />and the Squares, too, sang out "Sick!"<br />But a nod from Daddy Casey, and the cats got off that kick.<br />They dug the way he sizzled, like his gaskets were of wax;<br />They were hip that Casey wouldn't let the ball get by his ax.<br />The cool look's gone from Casey's chops, his eyes are all popped up;<br />He stomps his big ax on the plate, he really is hopped up.<br />And now the pitcher cops the ball, and now it comes on fast,<br />And now the joint is jumping with the sound of Casey's blast ...<br /><br />- Cool Casey, Mad Magazine (after Ernest Thayer)<br /><br /><br /><br />kidd.<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16659850.post-87126413195396097712015-03-17T10:27:49.484-05:002015-03-17T10:27:49.484-05:00Today being an Irish special, I nominate C.S. Lewi...Today being an Irish special, I nominate C.S. Lewis and Oscar Wilde, but only due to my limited exposure of Irish poets...you have Yeats in your post.<br /><br />C.S. Lewis, "On Being Human"<br />"... The nourishing of life, and how it flourishes On death, and why, they utterly know; but not The hill-born, earthy spring, the dark cold bilberries. The ripe peach from the southern wall still hot Full-bellied tankards foamy-topped, the delicate Half-lyric lamb, a new loaf's billowy curves, Nor porridge, nor the tingling taste of oranges. <br /><br />An angel has no nerves.<br /><br />Far richer they! I know the senses' witchery Guards us like air, from heavens too big to see; Imminent death to man that barb'd sublimity And dazzling edge of beauty unsheathed would be. Yet here, within this tiny, charmed interior, This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares With living men some secrets in a privacy Forever ours, not theirs."<br /><br />Oscar Wilde, "Apologia"<br />"... Many a man hath done so; sought to fence<br />In straitened bonds the soul that should be free,<br />Trodden the dusty road of common sense,<br />While all the forest sang of liberty,<br /><br />Not marking how the spotted hawk in flight<br />Passed on wide pinion through the lofty air,<br />To where some steep untrodden mountain height<br />Caught the last tresses of the Sun God's hair.<br /><br />Or how the little flower he trod upon,<br />The daisy, that white-feathered shield of gold,<br />Followed with wistful eyes the wandering sun<br />Content if once its leaves were aureoled.<br /><br />But surely it is something to have been<br />The best beloved for a little while,<br />To have walked hand in hand with Love, and seen<br />His purple wings flit once across thy smile.<br /><br />Ay! though the gorged asp of passion feed<br />On my boy's heart, yet have I burst the bars,<br />Stood face to face with Beauty, known indeed<br />The Love which moves the Sun and all the stars!"mikenoreply@blogger.com