This is the post where all the inspiration goes. Here are the rules! (They're really more like guidelines. Actually, they're not rules at all, they're just telling you where to put stuff.)
1. Poems, excerpts of prose, etc, go in the comments.
2. Blogspot rules with an iron fist and does not allow pictures in comments. Boo, hiss, etc. However! If you will look to the top right of this page, you will see a square with pretty pictures in it! If you click on it, you can upload photos to it and you do NOT need an account to do so. If the space fills up, tell me and I'll make another album.
3. Please attribute your stuff, or tell me if its source is lost to the mists of time, so I don't spend half my life trying to search for the source myself.
4. If you want to link to music we're all SOL and you will have to just leave a dead link that we can all copy and paste into our browsers like cavemen. Cavemen with internet access.
And that is all! Post away!
To start us off I'll post one of my favorites - actually, it's where the name of this blog came from.
As I Walked Out One Evening
W.H.Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
"Love has no ending.
I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world."
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.
O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.
The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
O look, look in the mirror?
O look at your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbor
With your crooked heart."
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
My taste in art isn't particularly striking or diverse; I just like pretty things. And The Accolade by Edmund Leighton is undeniably pretty:
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| The Accolade by Edmund Leighton, 1901 |
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| Magazine illustration circa early 1900 by J.C. Leyendecker |
We used a W. H. Auden poem as one of the readings at our wedding! (read by my husband's cousin the English teacher for maximum effect)
ReplyDeleteCarry Her Over the Water
Carry her over the water,
And set her down under the tree,
Where the culvers white all day and all night.
And the winds from every quarter,
Sing agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love.
Put a gold ring on her finger,
And press her close to your heart,
While the fish in the lake their snapshots take,
And the frog, that sanguine singer,
Sings agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love.
The streets shall all flock to your marriage,
The houses turn around to look,
The tables and chairs say suitable prayers,
And the horses drawing your carriage
Sing agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love.
That's gorgeous, Thea! What a great wedding poem.
ReplyDeleteI wish I had a good voice for reading poetry, but alas, my cadence is not to be envied.
Also! In the spirit of love poetry... I wanted to post this poem in the original post but it was getting too long. So I'm putting it here!
ReplyDeleteThe Quiet World - Jeffrey McDaniels
In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
Crossing the Clearing to Meet Edward
ReplyDeleteIt must be done carefully.
No one must intercept or
say a word;
no one must see me,
not even the dogs or the deer. To
snare him, I must work fast
and then
tear out of here. Everything's
ready: I have
fast little shoes and a
rose to slip down my front,
a stick of pencil
and two coins of his
I stole. My sister says this ought to work.
She says
take a crumbling charcoal
and blood from
my own cut finger, and
paint his portrait three times: two
on those staggered trees where the ground dips down
and one on a poison-yellow
mushroom cap. And I'll do it too,
because I want him. Because
tonight,
crossing this clearing, I
want him so much
this cold white dress howls
around me
like a monsoon.
by Pamela Miller, Fast Little Shoes, 1986
WOW. I've never seen that before; thanks so much for sharing. That's incredible.
DeleteMy mom bought her poetry chapbook for $4 (still written in pencil on the title page) at a reading about 25 years ago and I stole it from her shortly thereafter. :) If I remember correctly, Ms. Miller may have actually made the books at Kinko's herself. It's excellent poem and I love it.
DeleteI might just have to try to hunt down a copy at ebay or abebooks. That's lovely work.
Delete