Fair river! in they bright, clear flow Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow Of beauty-the unhidden heart- The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter; But when within thy wave she looks- Which glistens then, and trembles- Why, then the prettiest of brooks Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy steam Her image deeply lies- His heart which trembles at the beam Of her soul-searching eyes
NaCl (Sodium Chloride) by Kate and Anna McGarrigle
Just a little atom of chlorine Valence minus one Swimming thru the sea, digging the scene Just having fun She's not worried about the shape or size Of her outside shell It's fun to ionize Just a little atom of Cl With an unfilled shell
But somewhere in that sea lurks Handsome Sodium With enough electrons on his outside shell Plus that extra one Somewhere in this deep blue sea There's a negative For my extra energy yes Somewhere in this foam My positive will find a home
Then unsuspecting Chlorine Felt a magnetic pull She looked down and her outside Shell was full Sodium cried "what a gas, be my bride and I'll change your name from Chlorine to Chloride"
Now the sea evaporates to make the clouds For the rain and snow Leaving her chemical compounds in the abscence Of H2O But the crystals that wash upon the shore Are happy ones So if you never thought before Think of the love that you eat When you salt your meat.
And on non-poetry subject, how everybody's weather? We got blasted, snow, sleet (lots of sleet), and more snow (which is still going). Hard to tell what the total is because the sleet tamped everything but I'm guessing 8-10 inches so far. School's are closed; Jim is happily home (sorry again Lisa).
Morin' on the desert, and the wind is blowin' free, And it's ours, jest for the breathin', so let's fill up, you and me. No more stuffy cities, where you have to pay to breathe, Where the helpless human creatures move and throng and strive and seethe.
Mornin' on the desert, and the air is like a wine, And it seems like all creation has been made for me and mine. No house to stop my vision, save a neighbor's miles away, And a little 'dobe shanty that belongs to me and May.
Lonesome? Not a minute: Why I've got these mountains here, That was put here just to please me, with their blush and frown and cheer. They're waiting when the summer sun gets too sizzlin' hot, An' we jest go campin' in 'em with a pan and coffee pot.
Mornin' on the desert-- I can smell the sagebrush smoke. I hate to see it burnin', but the land must sure be broke. Ain't it jest a pity that wherever man may live, He tears up so much that's beautiful that the good God has to give?
"Sagebrush ain't so pretty?" Well, all eyes don't see the same, have you ever seen the moonlight turn it to a silvery flame? An' that greasewood thicket yonder -- well, it smells jest awful sweet, When the night wind has been shakin' it -- for its smell is hard to beat.
Lonesome? Well, I guess not! I've been lonesome in a town. But I sure do love the desert with its stretches wide and brown. All day through the sagebrush here the wind is blowin' free. An' it's ours jest for the breathin', so let's fill up, you and me.
Since we are in the grip of a snowy storm, here's one for a warmer time.
Millions of Strawberries
Marcia and I went over the curve, Eating our way down Jewels of strawberries we didn't deserve, Eating our way down. Till our hands were sticky, and our lips painted, And over us the hot day fainted, And we saw snakes, And got scratched, and a lust overcame us for the red unmatched Small buds of berries, till we lay down-- Eating out way down-- and rolled in the berries like two little dogs Rolled In the late gold And gnats hummed And it was cold And home we went, home without a berry, Painted red and brown Eating our way down. -- Genevieve Taggard
This is my first memory: A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky wood floor A line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the center Heavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply too short For me to sit in and read So my first book was always big
In the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presided To the left side the card catalogue On the right newspapers draped over what looked like a quilt rack Magazines face out from the wall
The welcoming smile of my librarian The anticipation in my heart All those books—another world—just waiting At my fingertips.
That's a great poem, Maria. Jim and i went to see her do a reading many years ago. It was wonderful. I hope you feel better soon (I find the McGarrigle's French Record very soothing).
Yay for the day off, Lisa. BTW, you didn't mention the author of your poem so I went looking and found this about Katherine Fall Pettey.
Sorry, no time to research poetry - wish I had a bunch of favorites at my fingertips as y'all do.
Freezing rain when I arrived yesterday, on top of piles of black snow. Lots of accidents on the interstate coming in from the airport. Calling for snow again today, but hopefully not as much as you, andi.
Sorry about the migraine, Maria. And yay for no school to the teachers out there! Stay inside and be safe.
I'm off to pack. Thanks for cheering my day with poetry, everyone.
Dense fog here, both out the window and in my head. Like Beth, I don't have a store of poetry to look up, so I'll probably make something up when the (internal) fog lifts.
Working at home today; need to photo up a couple new boxes and throw a manual together to make UL happy.
Me and Billy Shakespeare Stepped out to get a root beer We sat together so near People thought we were queer Punctuated by the big scare We joined the Air Force right there To defend our country first class Who couldn't give a rat's ass Don't you tell me that the White House is my home Leave the lights on till your baby gets home
Feeling kind of bony On the telephoney Talking to Marconi Eating Rice-a-Roni Nominated for a Tony For acting like a phoney Watching Twilight Zoney On my forty-two inch Sony This is just a long song It ain't no poem Leave the lights on till your baby gets home
What's the weather like here? SNOW! Just about everything's closed and I was sent home early because of SNOW! 17" to be exact. Of course, when I got home I couldn't get in the driveway because of SNOW! lol So, here's my contribution, the last part reminds of Andif taking the pups for a walk. (Thanks for Poetry Day, Nancy!)
Snow Day by Billy Collins
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow, its white flag waving over everything...
the government buildings smothered, schools and libraries buried, the post office lost under the noiseless drift...
In a while, I will put on some boots and step out like someone walking in water, and the dog will porpoise through the drifts, and I will shake a laden branch sending a cold shower down on us both.
read the rest at: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=176051
Bono--Holy smokes--17". We go bananas with less than inch of ice. Texans=Terrible winter drivers. Do you have to dig yourself out?
I know somebody has a snowblower(I'm thinking Kelly), but do you guys mostly shovel that sh...uhh snow yourselves? Our ice mostly melted away. Gooooooo Sun. Almost got to 40.
I finished the big scene I was reworking today --Yea.
Shhh--only two chapters left and I'll be at the end of this editing pass.
Lots of people (most) have snow blowers here, Lisa. The rest of us do it the old fashioned way, via snow shovels. :-p I think we just hit a new record for snowfall in January. The old record was like 42" during the blizzard of 1978. Before this latest storm, we had 30". Skiers are having a wonderful year. We have not been free of snow on the ground since early January.
Congrats on putting your day off to such good use!
Saying Goodbye to Very Young Children by John Updike
They will not be the same next time. The sayings so cute, just slightly off, will be corrected. Their eyes will be more skeptical, plugged in the more securely to the worldly buzz of television, alphabet, and street talk, culture polluting their gazes' pure blue. It makes you see at last the value of those boring aunts and neighbors (their smells of summer sweat and cigarettes, their faces like shapes of sky between shade-giving leaves) who knew you from the start, when you were zero, cooing their nothings before you could be bored or knew a name, not even your own, or how this world brave with hellos turns all goodbye.
25 comments:
Exultation in the going
Of an inland soul to sea,
Past the houses--past the headlands--
Into deep Eternity--
Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?
E. Dickinson
Fair river! in they bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty-the unhidden heart-
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter;
But when within thy wave she looks-
Which glistens then, and trembles-
Why, then the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy steam
Her image deeply lies-
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul-searching eyes
Edgar Allan Poe
Mine contribution is a song.
NaCl (Sodium Chloride)
by Kate and Anna McGarrigle
Just a little atom of chlorine
Valence minus one
Swimming thru the sea, digging the scene
Just having fun
She's not worried about the shape or size
Of her outside shell
It's fun to ionize
Just a little atom of Cl
With an unfilled shell
But somewhere in that sea lurks
Handsome Sodium
With enough electrons on his outside shell
Plus that extra one
Somewhere in this deep blue sea
There's a negative
For my extra energy yes
Somewhere in this foam
My positive will find a home
Then unsuspecting Chlorine
Felt a magnetic pull
She looked down and her outside
Shell was full
Sodium cried "what a gas, be my bride and
I'll change your name from Chlorine to Chloride"
Now the sea evaporates to make the clouds
For the rain and snow
Leaving her chemical compounds in the abscence
Of H2O
But the crystals that wash upon the shore
Are happy ones
So if you never thought before
Think of the love that you eat
When you salt your meat.
And here they are performing it [LINK].
And on non-poetry subject, how everybody's weather? We got blasted, snow, sleet (lots of sleet), and more snow (which is still going). Hard to tell what the total is because the sleet tamped everything but I'm guessing 8-10 inches so far. School's are closed; Jim is happily home (sorry again Lisa).
Morning all.
More Cowboy Poetry--
Mornin' on the Desert
Morin' on the desert, and the wind is blowin' free,
And it's ours, jest for the breathin', so let's fill up, you and me.
No more stuffy cities, where you have to pay to breathe,
Where the helpless human creatures move and throng and strive and seethe.
Mornin' on the desert, and the air is like a wine,
And it seems like all creation has been made for me and mine.
No house to stop my vision, save a neighbor's miles away,
And a little 'dobe shanty that belongs to me and May.
Lonesome? Not a minute: Why I've got these mountains here,
That was put here just to please me, with their blush and frown and cheer.
They're waiting when the summer sun gets too sizzlin' hot,
An' we jest go campin' in 'em with a pan and coffee pot.
Mornin' on the desert-- I can smell the sagebrush smoke.
I hate to see it burnin', but the land must sure be broke.
Ain't it jest a pity that wherever man may live,
He tears up so much that's beautiful that the good God has to give?
"Sagebrush ain't so pretty?" Well, all eyes don't see the same,
have you ever seen the moonlight turn it to a silvery flame?
An' that greasewood thicket yonder -- well, it smells jest awful sweet,
When the night wind has been shakin' it -- for its smell is hard to beat.
Lonesome? Well, I guess not! I've been lonesome in a town.
But I sure do love the desert with its stretches wide and brown.
All day through the sagebrush here the wind is blowin' free.
An' it's ours jest for the breathin', so let's fill up, you and me.
Andi--
BAH HUMBUG --I gotta go in two hours late.
And I don't think our ice will be melted by then.
Ah the brainy powers that be.
REFRAME--Got some extra time for writing this morning.
Waves and thanks to all contributing. Fun reading all day.
Stay warm and toasty.
Nancy, thank you for Poetry Day and just because.
Wonderful Weds. to All.
Since we are in the grip of a snowy storm, here's one for a warmer time.
Millions of Strawberries
Marcia and I went over the curve,
Eating our way down
Jewels of strawberries we didn't deserve,
Eating our way down.
Till our hands were sticky, and our lips painted,
And over us the hot day fainted,
And we saw snakes,
And got scratched, and a lust overcame us for the red
unmatched
Small buds of berries, till we lay down--
Eating out way down-- and rolled in the berries like two
little dogs
Rolled
In the late gold
And gnats hummed
And it was cold
And home we went, home without a berry,
Painted red and brown
Eating our way down.
-- Genevieve Taggard
My First Memory (of Librarians)
This is my first memory:
A big room with heavy wooden tables that sat on a creaky
wood floor
A line of green shades—bankers’ lights—down the center
Heavy oak chairs that were too low or maybe I was simply
too short
For me to sit in and read
So my first book was always big
In the foyer up four steps a semi-circle desk presided
To the left side the card catalogue
On the right newspapers draped over what looked like
a quilt rack
Magazines face out from the wall
The welcoming smile of my librarian
The anticipation in my heart
All those books—another world—just waiting
At my fingertips.
Nikki Giovanni
Morning, all - the weather here is atrocious. Snow turned into sleety ice and slush, all frozen and ick today.
I spent most of last night with a migraine, so am staying home today and just sleeping. (I am a total barometer!)
Andi! Love the McGarrigle sisters and have enjoyed that song numerous times.
I'm enjoying the heck out of the rest of the poetry. :)
Great day, all.
One shoe on when phone rang and intelligence prevails.
NO SCHOOL TODAY.
JOIN ME FOR HOT COCOA, CUBAN COFFEE, TEA OF CHOICE.
POETRY PARTY!!!!
Yeah Jim came!!!
Maria, I've got a quiet corner set up just for you. Soft cushions and snuggly quilt. Will dote.
Love the Tree picture today.
Need a little straight and strong.
That's a great poem, Maria. Jim and i went to see her do a reading many years ago. It was wonderful. I hope you feel better soon (I find the McGarrigle's French Record very soothing).
Yay for the day off, Lisa. BTW, you didn't mention the author of your poem so I went looking and found this about Katherine Fall Pettey.
Sorry, no time to research poetry - wish I had a bunch of favorites at my fingertips as y'all do.
Freezing rain when I arrived yesterday, on top of piles of black snow. Lots of accidents on the interstate coming in from the airport. Calling for snow again today, but hopefully not as much as you, andi.
Sorry about the migraine, Maria. And yay for no school to the teachers out there! Stay inside and be safe.
I'm off to pack. Thanks for cheering my day with poetry, everyone.
Lisa M: Welcome to the Club of Weather Bound Teachers.
Nancy: Thanks for declaring a poetry day.
Maria Lima: Incredible that Nikki Giovani and I must have gone to the same library. I remember the chairs that never fit the tables too.
Kim: I don't recall ever reading that Poe(m) before - loved the rhythm and phrasing.
Lowering the tone, here's one (can't remember the author)I tried out on a five year old the other day, with a satisfying fit of giggles as the result:
I eat my peas with honey
I've done so all my life.
It makes the peas taste funny
But it keeps them on the knife.
(Possibly by comedian Spike Milligan)
JimF, I LOVE that, thanks for sharing it. Happy snow day!
Morning all!
Dense fog here, both out the window and in my head. Like Beth, I don't have a store of poetry to look up, so I'll probably make something up when the (internal) fog lifts.
Working at home today; need to photo up a couple new boxes and throw a manual together to make UL happy.
John Prine:
Me and Billy Shakespeare
Stepped out to get a root beer
We sat together so near
People thought we were queer
Punctuated by the big scare
We joined the Air Force right there
To defend our country first class
Who couldn't give a rat's ass
Don't you tell me that the
White House is my home
Leave the lights on
till your baby gets home
Feeling kind of bony
On the telephoney
Talking to Marconi
Eating Rice-a-Roni
Nominated for a Tony
For acting like a phoney
Watching Twilight Zoney
On my forty-two inch Sony
This is just a long song
It ain't no poem
Leave the lights on
till your baby gets home
Weather is horrid here, in Boise, January is the cruelest month, methinks.
Love the poems, here's my contribution:
MY CANDLE burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!
-Edna St.Vincent Millay
There once was an author in a race
He pounded the keys at a brutal pace
Though headway he made
For it he paid
When his brain took off into space
Or something like that. 21,000 words in 11 writing days so far and 45,000 more to go. Bizy, backson.
Drive by hi. That is a wonderful photo, Andi!
What's the weather like here? SNOW! Just about everything's closed and I was sent home early because of SNOW! 17" to be exact. Of course, when I got home I couldn't get in the driveway because of SNOW! lol So, here's my contribution, the last part reminds of Andif taking the pups for a walk. (Thanks for Poetry Day, Nancy!)
Snow Day
by Billy Collins
Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,
its white flag waving over everything...
the government buildings smothered,
schools and libraries buried, the post office lost
under the noiseless drift...
In a while, I will put on some boots
and step out like someone walking in water,
and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,
and I will shake a laden branch
sending a cold shower down on us both.
read the rest at:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=176051
Bono--Holy smokes--17".
We go bananas with less than inch of ice. Texans=Terrible winter drivers.
Do you have to dig yourself out?
I know somebody has a snowblower(I'm thinking Kelly), but do you guys mostly shovel that sh...uhh snow yourselves?
Our ice mostly melted away.
Gooooooo Sun. Almost got to 40.
I finished the big scene I was reworking today --Yea.
Shhh--only two chapters left and I'll be at the end of this editing pass.
Lots of people (most) have snow blowers here, Lisa. The rest of us do it the old fashioned way, via snow shovels. :-p I think we just hit a new record for snowfall in January. The old record was like 42" during the blizzard of 1978. Before this latest storm, we had 30". Skiers are having a wonderful year. We have not been free of snow on the ground since early January.
Congrats on putting your day off to such good use!
I shovel the walks if it's less than five inches and ignore the driveway. Everything over that meets the snowblower.
Saying Goodbye to Very Young Children
by John Updike
They will not be the same next time. The sayings
so cute, just slightly off, will be corrected.
Their eyes will be more skeptical, plugged in
the more securely to the worldly buzz
of television, alphabet, and street talk,
culture polluting their gazes' pure blue.
It makes you see at last the value of
those boring aunts and neighbors (their smells
of summer sweat and cigarettes, their faces
like shapes of sky between shade-giving leaves)
who knew you from the start, when you were zero,
cooing their nothings before you could be bored
or knew a name, not even your own, or how
this world brave with hellos turns all goodbye.
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