Tag Archives: poetry wednesday

Poetry Wednesday 10/22/08: The First Night of Fall and Falling Rain

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The First Night Of Fall And Falling Rain by Delmore Schwartz The common rain had come again Slanting and colorless, pale and anonymous, Fainting falling in the first evening Of the first perception of the actual fall, The long and late light had slowly gathered up A sooty wood of clouded sky, dim and distant more and more Until, at dusk, the very sense of selfhood waned, A weakening nothing halted, diminished or denied or set aside, Neither tea, nor, after an hour, whiskey, Ice … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 09/24/08: A poem by Judith Viorst

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Woman Combing Her Hair Before a Mirror, 1877 by Edgar Degas   I’m Too Young To Be Seventy by Judith Viorst Deep in my heart I believe I’m Too young to be seventy. There are times when I’m wearing my baseball cap and my jeans That I even can imagine that, glimpsed from the rear, I might be mistaken For someone who could still be in her teens. Late thirties? Early forties? Middle fifties? I think I could do the middle fifties just fine, Like … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 03/05/08: I Never Saw Another Butterfly

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During World War II, when Pavel Friedmann was about 11 years old, his family was forced to leave their home in Poland. The Friedmanns and other Jewish families were moved into a walled-off, isolated area called a ghetto. While he was living in the ghetto, Pavel wrote a poem called “The Butterfly.” Part of the poem reads, “Such, such a yellow/ Is carried lightly way up high/ It went away I’m sure because it wished to kiss the world goodbye.” It was the last butterfly … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 01/09/08: Ample Make This Bed

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In 1947, the movie’s narrator, Stingo (Peter MacNicol), a young writer from the American South, travels to post-World War II Brooklyn. He is befriended by Sophie Zawistowski (Meryl Streep), a beautiful Polish immigrant, and her lover, Nathan Landau (Kevin Kline). It is clear to Stingo from the serial number tattooed into Sophie’s forearm that she is no stranger to pain. One evening, Stingo talks with Sophie and learns some more about her past: that she was married but her husband and her father were killed … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday: 07/29/09: Song

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Song By Gwendolyn Bennett I am weaving a song of waters, Shaken from firm, brown limbs, Or heads thrown back in irreverent mirth. My song has the lush sweetness Of moist, dark lips Where hymns keep company With old forgotten banjo songs. Abandon tells you That I sing the heart of race While sadness whispers That I am the cry of a soul. . . . A-shoutin’ in de ole camp-meeting-place, A-strummin’ o’ de ole banjo. Singin’ in de moonlight, Sobbin’ in de dark. Singin’, … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 09/07/08: A Small Green Island

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[mp3j track=”SUSAN_OSBORN-Small_Green.mp3″] For over 30 years, singer and songwriter Susan Osborn has held the high ground of vocal artistry. Her startlingly remarkable voice — powerful and rich with emotional expression — came to world prominence when she was lead singer of the Paul Winter Consort between 1978 and 1985, shining on such albums as “Common Ground”, “Missa Gaia.” and “Concert For the Earth”. Osborn’s voice has such power and soulful presence that she’s performed at the United Nations, the Berlin Wall, the Nagano Winter Olympics, … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 09/23/09: Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond

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Flowers and Hat: Patchen Place By E.E. Cummings Oil on canvas Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond by E.E. Cummings somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look will easily unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 10/14/09: October by Robert Frost

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October By Robert Frost O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; One from … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday: The Sound Of The Trees

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THE SOUND OF THE TREES by: Robert Frost (1874-1963) I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of going But never gets away; And that talks no less for knowing, As it grows wiser and older, That now it … Continue reading →

Poetry Wednesday 10/06/09: The Butterfly

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The Butterfly by: Alphonse de Lamartine (1790-1869) translated from the French byGeoffrey Barto To be born with the spring, and with the roses die, On the wing of the breeze swim through the sky so pure, Balanced on the breast of flowers barely closed, Drinking in their perfumes, the light and the blue sky, Shaking off, still so young, the dust upon its wings, Flying off like a breath to the eternal vault, This is the butterfly’s enchanted destiny! It’s like the desire that is … Continue reading →