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Poetry Exchange

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Post  Admin Tue Oct 01, 2013 11:46 am

Nobel Prize hmmm...sounds good to me he can certainly write some pretty inspiring lyrics/poetry.

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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty found the link

Post  Greatheart Tue Oct 01, 2013 6:33 pm

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/29/opinion/sunday/knock-knock-knockin-on-nobels-door.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Actually there are other articles on this subject, search for 'bob dylan nobel prize'.

This sure would make a whole generation of old hippies smile ;-)

(And for my money they could give it to him just for 'Blood on the Tracks.' One of the all time great albums.)
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Post  Admin Wed Nov 20, 2013 1:00 pm

Found this online today thought I would share it here.

Pirouetting Autumn

The tree blushed - a rude blast of air
Betrayed a shapely bough.
My saddened heart aware
That Nature's clock was chiming,
I froze upon the twelfth
Clanging tone, caught alone,
Staring at a creaking door -
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn,
Pirouetting in her leaves,
While agitated summer creatures
Backed away resignedly,
Sighing in protracted breves.
I turned; gave company;
We stood together, watching
Summer slowly blow away.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009

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Post  SleeperSell Wed Apr 09, 2014 12:56 am

Very nice everyone. :<)

A part apart
It aches it sings
The longing that
It's absence brings


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Post  Admin Wed Apr 09, 2014 8:36 pm

Hello SleeperSell.

(Sonnet 98)
by William Shakespeare

From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him,
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odor and in hue,
Could make me any summer's story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty As someone once said, Shakespeare knew it all

Post  Greatheart Thu May 29, 2014 7:43 pm

SONNET 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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Post  Admin Mon Jun 09, 2014 11:49 am

I've been wondering why the don't teach poetry the way used to when I used in school. I mean my nieces and nephews have had a few cursory moments of the subject but the teachers seem more focused on obscure authors/playwrights that oft times I've never even heard of. It is sad that not enough young people these appreciate the beauty of a good poem.

Thanks for the sonnet Greatheart, always like to read them.

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Post  Greatheart Thu Jun 12, 2014 4:58 am

The problem with teaching poetry, I think, is that they make you -read- it. I'd conduct a class in poetry by having the class listen to great readings, done by people who do it well. The average student doesn't get it, and can not speak it. Yet.

Ignore the music, just listen -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4AWcixNpAs
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Post  Admin Fri Jun 13, 2014 9:40 am

Oh thank you Greatheart I used to watch that show and always loved it when he read. I do know what you mean about teaching poetry the kids bring home their assignments when they do a poetry lesson and they are at a total loss as to how to read it. Maybe I can find some time to read some out loud for them and then get them to try it and see if that helps.

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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty 'Norman's Poem'

Post  Greatheart Sun Jun 29, 2014 5:30 am

Not poetry, exactly, but a great reading by Craig Scheffer from 'A River Runs Through it.' Prose does sometimes rise to the level of poetry.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFO-vjXiKBc

I could put this one under 'movie adaptations' Very different from the book, but an excellent film. I started fly fishing right around the time it came out, but never learned to cast all that well or gracefully. Luckily the fish lack artistic judgement! ;-)

And there is a short poem hidden in ARRTI -

"The river was cut
By the world's great flood
And runs over rocks
From the basement of time."

(I once got a magazine article out of that one ;-) )

Robert Redford, who produced, directed and narrated the movie, does it in this sequence -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OsDnrFBpsBk
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Post  Admin Thu Jul 10, 2014 9:37 am

This is the original Latin poem that Catullus wrote for Clodia:

Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum seueriorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
soles occidere et redire possunt:
nobis cum semel occidit breuis lux,
nox est perpetua una dormienda.
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
aut ne quis malus inuidere possit,
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

The English version by Richard Crashaw:

Come and let us live my Deare,
Let us love and never feare,
What the sowrest Fathers say:
Brightest Sol that dyes to day
Lives againe as blith to morrow,
But if we darke sons of sorrow
Set, then, how long a Night
Shuts the Eyes of our short light!
Then let amorous kisses dwell
On our lips, begin and tell
A Thousand, and a Hundred, score
an Hundred, and a Thousand more,
Till another Thousand smother
That, and that wipe off another.
Thus at last when we have numbered
Many a Thousand, many a Hundred;
Wee'l confound the reckoning quite,
And lose our selves in wild delight:
While our joyes so multiply,
As shall mocke the envious eye.

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Post  SleeperSell Tue Mar 03, 2015 10:15 pm

Just a shout out to the universe. I miss my father who passed away 15 years today. Wrote a poem for him. Absolutely true story. Doctor Who, and #11, will always hold a special place in my heart.

The Sorcerer's Signature

Just after winter solstice
In the year two thousand ten
My father who had been long gone
Resurfaces again

I'll not soon forget the day he
Reached through the glassy veil
The family was all settled in
To watch a winter's tale

It was a Christmas Carol
Retold by Doctor Who
A show that as a child had been
Special amongst us two

It started out with coincidence
Nothing to turn my head
Our new heroine shares the name of
My newborn daughter in her bed

At Christmas with her family
Is where his bullet struck
It was subtle and cut later
But I caught it with some luck

I sat as if dumbfounded
As the episode unfolds
My magician's signature trick
Is the card the Doctor holds

My father had played the castle
To get into the guild
With a trick of his design
Where anticipation builds

He seems to get it wrong
Only to later get it right
Imagine my surprise to see
That trick performed that night

But the greatest gift comes later
For soundman he was by trade
At the special's very ending
His last great point is made

Father/Daughter stand together
He reaches round to mike her score
Just like his favorite story
His arms around Dorothy Lamour

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Post  Admin Mon Mar 09, 2015 4:50 pm

Very nice SleeperSell. I'm sure he knows you are thinking of him.

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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty Love it!

Post  Greatheart Fri Apr 03, 2015 10:05 am

Very well done, SleepeerSell.
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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty Dancing Barefoot

Post  Greatheart Sat Apr 25, 2015 1:11 pm

A Patti Smith tune - Dancing Barefoot - performed by First Aid kit - absolutely knockout performance -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rJkbShz3c9Q&list=PLrNNiYMdWwvVv4265CcXJqPf7prWy3ThT&index=2

Lyrics - "Dancing Barefoot"

She is benediction
She is addicted to thee
She is the root connection
She is connecting with he

Here I go and I don't know why
I fell so ceaselessly
Could it be he's taking over me...

I'm dancing barefoot
Heading for a spin
Some strange music draws me in
Makes me come on like some heroine

She is sublimation
She is the essence of thee
She is concentrating on
He, who is chosen by she

Here I go and I don't know why
I spin so ceaselessly,
Could it be he's taking over me...

[chorus]

She is re-creation
She, intoxicated by thee
She has the slow sensation that
He is levitating with she ...

Here I go and I don't know why,
I spin so ceaselessly,
'til I lose my sense of gravity...

[chorus]

(oh god I fell for you ...)

The plot of our life sweats in the dark like a face
The mystery of childbirth, of childhood itself
Grave visitations
What is it that calls to us?
Why must we pray screaming?
Why must not death be redefined?
We shut our eyes we stretch out our arms
And whirl on a pane of glass
An afixiation a fix on anything the line of life the limb of a tree
The hands of he and the promise that she is blessed among women.

(oh god I fell for you ...)
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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty Red Dirt Girl

Post  Greatheart Sun May 08, 2016 8:36 pm

Read this, then go watch First Aid Kit sing it at the Polar Music Prize, for laureate Emmylou Harris

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJy_MQQhnog&index=23&list=LLx1H-NQj_MKbr1aFGmooPGQ

Me and my best friend Lillian
And her blue tick hound dog Gideon,
Sittin on the front porch cooling in the shade
Singin every song the radio played
Waitin for the Alabama sun to go down
Two red dirt girls in a red dirt town
Me and Lillian
Just across the line and a little southeast of Meridian.

She loved her brother I remember back when
He was fixin up a '49 Indian
He told her 'Little sister, gonna ride the wind
Up around the moon and back again"
He never got farther than Vietnam,
I was standin there with her when the telegram come
For Lillian.
Now he's lyin somewhere about a million miles from Meridian.

She said there's not much hope for a red dirt girl
Somewhere out there is a great big world
That's where I'm bound
And the stars might fall on Alabama
But one of these days I'm gonna swing
My hammer down
Away from this red dirt town
I'm gonna make a joyful sound

She grew up tall and she grew up thin
Buried that old dog Gideon
By a crepe myrtle bush in the back of the yard,
Her daddy turned mean and her mama leaned hard
Got in trouble with a boy from town
Figured that she might as well settle down
So she dug right in
Across a red dirt line just a little south east from Meridian

She tried hard to love him but it never did take
It was just another way for the heart to break
So she dug right in.
But one thing they don't tell you about the blues
When you got em
You keep on falling cause there ain't no bottom
There ain't know end.
At least not for Lillian

Nobody knows when she started her skid,
She was only 27 and she had five kids.
Coulda' been the whiskey,
Coulda been the pills,
Coulda been the dream she was trying to kill.
But there won't be a mention in the news of the world
About the life and the death of a red dirt girl
Names Lillian
Who never got any farther across the line than Meridian.

Now the stars still fall on Alabama
Tonight she finally laid
That hammer down
Without a sound
In the red dirt ground
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Poetry Exchange - Page 2 Empty They did it!!!

Post  Greatheart Thu Oct 13, 2016 11:21 am

Several posts and a few years back I mentioned that Bob Dylan was being considered for the Nobel Prize in Literature.

It has happened!!!!!!!!

YES!!!!!
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