tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post7649421143841470579..comments2024-03-28T02:36:55.037-04:00Comments on Brooklyn Arden: "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer," by Walt WhitmanCherylhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05972029478350879112noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-18764864921001780192008-04-14T02:45:00.000-04:002008-04-14T02:45:00.000-04:00*sheepishly!* Oh and It's "A coat", not "The Coat"...*sheepishly!* Oh and It's "A coat", not "The Coat"..Sharanyahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10854112156033972511noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-7628845968000298752008-04-13T14:15:00.000-04:002008-04-13T14:15:00.000-04:00That's my favorite Whitman; thanks for reminding m...That's my favorite Whitman; thanks for reminding me of it.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11431700962951592287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-9734436334481469402008-04-13T12:10:00.000-04:002008-04-13T12:10:00.000-04:00Dead poet's Society, is what I was reminded of :) ...Dead poet's Society, is what I was reminded of :) Walt Whitman makes poetry such an exotic adventure.<BR/><BR/>Well, I'm not American and the poem I'm putting down here is not by an American poet but well, it's poetry all the same and I hope, that by reading a poem a day, I can celebrate a Poetry Month too, it's such a WONDERFUL idea..<BR/><BR/>It's by W B Yeats; I first read it in "The Bridges of Madison County". I've read lots of Yeats since but this one (and one called The Coat) remain my favourites till date..<BR/><BR/><BR/>The Song Of Wandering Aengus<BR/><BR/><I> I went out to the hazel wood, <BR/>Because a fire was in my head, <BR/>And cut and peeled a hazel wand, <BR/>And hooked a berry to a thread; <BR/> <BR/>And when white moths were on the wing, <BR/>And moth-like stars were flickering out, <BR/>I dropped the berry in a stream <BR/>And caught a little silver trout. <BR/> <BR/>When I had laid it on the floor <BR/>I went to blow the fire a-flame, <BR/>But something rustled on the floor, <BR/>And some one called me by my name: <BR/>It had become a glimmering girl <BR/>With apple blossom in her hair <BR/>Who called me by my name and ran <BR/>And faded through the brightening air. <BR/> <BR/>Though I am old with wandering <BR/>Through hollow lands and hilly lands, <BR/>I will find out where she has gone, <BR/>And kiss her lips and take her hands; <BR/>And walk among long dappled grass, <BR/>And pluck till time and times are done <BR/>The silver apples of the moon, <BR/>The golden apples of the sun. <BR/></I>Sharanyahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10854112156033972511noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-14986445726054909002008-04-13T11:30:00.000-04:002008-04-13T11:30:00.000-04:00Ya know... as one writing and posting original poe...Ya know... as one writing and posting original poetry every day this month, I often wonder what folks like Whitman or Eliot woulda done in the internet age. And then I figure they'd've posted 30 poems in April of the same caliber as the ones here. And then I drink heavily in depression. But thanks for sharing! :-)Greg Pincushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00449684160718426340noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-25883539082993394792008-04-13T09:54:00.000-04:002008-04-13T09:54:00.000-04:00Beautiful, Cheryl and Christine. My favorite stanz...Beautiful, Cheryl and Christine. My favorite stanza from my favorite poem:<BR/><BR/>And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! <BR/>Smoothed by long fingers, <BR/>Asleep … tired … or it malingers, <BR/>Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. <BR/>Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, <BR/>Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? <BR/>But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, <BR/>Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter, <BR/>I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter; <BR/>I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, <BR/>And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, <BR/>And in short, I was afraid.<BR/><BR/>from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot<BR/><BR/>JonAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-31911808031388754472008-04-13T08:45:00.000-04:002008-04-13T08:45:00.000-04:00This is beautiful.My all-time favorite is John Cla...This is beautiful.<BR/>My all-time favorite is John Clare's "I Am" May I post it here?<BR/><BR/><BR/>I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,<BR/>My friends forsake me like a memory lost;<BR/>I am the self-consumer of my woes,<BR/>They rise and vanish in oblivious host,<BR/>Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;<BR/>And yet I am, and live with shadows tost<BR/><BR/>Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,<BR/>Into the living sea of waking dreams,<BR/>Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,<BR/>But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;<BR/>And e'en the dearest - that I loved the best -<BR/>Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest.<BR/><BR/>I long for scenes where man has never trod,<BR/>A place where woman never smiled or wept;<BR/>There to abide with my Creator, God,<BR/>And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:<BR/>Untroubling and untroubled where I lie,<BR/>The grass below - above the vaulted sky.Chris Eldinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11794946908789120139noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074861.post-73676862593619955882008-04-12T16:07:00.000-04:002008-04-12T16:07:00.000-04:00I told myself that I would do the poem a day thing...I told myself that I would do the poem a day thing, too, and I've yet to post one. So you're one step ahead of me, anyway, with the mid-month mark lingering in the near future. And nice choice!Christinahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15363411079221274431noreply@blogger.com