Your poetry is so moving and powerful Scottie. I hope you saw my reaction to Fear Of Clowns. This seems to be about a child watching an elderly relative making Christmas cards. Within it I sensed the wonder that was witnessed long ago. Another superbly atmospheric write
Hi Mr M.
Thanks for your comments - and the comments of others.
I always find it fascinating to read people's interpretations of poems and how they can vary - perhaps the poems touch a personal experience. When I wrote 'Brilliance' I had a particular image in my mind, different, but not altogether too different, from those it conjured up for others.
Not quite relevant, but has anyone else noticed that Poetry Please on Radio 4 has been more like Prose Please for about a year? Also, there's plenty of plugging, especially from McGough. :mad:
As Musty says I've commented on this before, but I've also realized that to fully appreciate poetry, I have to read it (not out loud but in my head).
Isn't it funny how some poems get interpreted differently Biz? The limerick above is going to be changed and there's a good page describing John Aubrey on Wikipedia
I was hoping that Scottie would elucidate, but some authors like to keep people guessing.
I'll no doubt be reading the new version in the future.
I read that page, and John Aubrey seems to have been a bit unworldly - to lose all his inherited property and end his life relying on friends.
I dream I'm fully aware,
but I'm sat in my memory chair.
The content of my daydreams is a little different, but I like the idea of you getting rid of all the dangerous belligerents in the world and leaving everyone in peace.
The content of my daydreams is a little different, but I like the idea of you getting rid of all the dangerous belligerents in the world and leaving everyone in peace.
I hope life is treating you well these days.
Thanks Biz. I don't think your world is on my list though. Any 1 in their right mind would steer well clear of a world with war, religion _and_ nonsensical drug laws...
A stray antelope supped the pond unaware
Of a danger that moved not an ounce;
A tiger crouched there who was ready to snare
With an instinct to naturally pounce.
The ear-splitting roar and the terrible jaw
Of the hunter was due to be shown,
Then a strange thing occurred when the hungry cat saw
An image he’d never once known.
The antelope seemed such a beautiful thing
And the sunset so golden and wide
That he fell and rolled over and if he could sing
Nature's glory he might just have tried.
Now the antelope prayed for she'd constantly grade
Cats as killers yet somehow the stir
Of empathy grew when she saw how he played
Or stretched with a lovely warm purr.
When the rest of the herd noticed what had occurred
The antelope got ordered out
And the tiger's own pack turned their back when they heard,
Banned his stripes, didn’t want him about.
But this pair didn't mind, with enjoyment to find
They felt like two peas in a pod;
In the jungle, on plains, they had simply defined
How foes that can change are not odd.
And the tiger who shielded the antelope's life
Was grateful for her kindly ways
And the antelope thanked him for easing the strife
So two friends could share hot hazy days.
Thanks Biz. I don't think your world is on my list though. Any 1 in their right mind would steer well clear of a world with war, religion _and_ nonsensical drug laws...
Call me a cynic Archiver, but I don't think we'll see (no, I know we wont't) your ideal world in our lifetimes...........and perhaps it will never materialize. One thing's sure if it does we'll be fast asleep forever and never know about it.
Of course you might manage to travel to another universe and find it - who knows.
I've booked the B&B for the Avebury photographic weekend. It's going to be in August and I'm praying for sunshine. Rain or an overcast sky is going to rule any essential snaps out. Fingers crossed
I've booked the B&B for the Avebury photographic weekend. It's going to be in August and I'm praying for sunshine. Rain or an overcast sky is going to rule any essential snaps out. Fingers crossed
We'll hope for a repeat of this glorious weather Musty. Fingers crossed.
I Googled "columbine" to combine perhaps
some gen to that already privy to my mind,
to research a bit and see what I might find.
What offered first, such things which trend,
was of course all about the awful shooting
routing one to every grim detail of horrors
off the scale. I felt then disinclined to bend
towards more knowledge of the tragic sad
outcome of a people’s constitutional right.
Preferring to uproot a subject that’s sweet.
Delightful and flighty flower so named after
its resemblance to a of lovey-dovey covey
of doves a bird symbolical and of a feather
with Peace. Am inclined to tweet on Twitter
to any who care to listen: "hashtag irony."
It's an interesting thought - but possible? Hmmmm.
Definitely impossible Biz - wishful thinking on my part. As much as I love nature I can't watch documentaries on the wild, the killing upsets me too much. I know it's what has to happen though.
I Googled "columbine" to combine perhaps
some gen to that already privy to my mind
An irony indeed Frank and another incisive poem by you. You've also solved a mystery. I have a friend who lives near addresses like Juniper Lane, Rose Close and Heather Avenue. Columbine Road makes sense now
An old man in his chair sat and stared at the wall,
The doctor declared it was due to his fall.
He didn't move for hours, nor stop at his gaze,
‘I’ll give him some pills, to stave off his daze’.
The old man refused them, cried ‘What’s all the fuss !’
‘I’m watching a spider, I’m not catching a bus’.
‘All of you young ‘ens run around all day long,
Once I was the same, but now know it was wrong’.
‘I like watching insects and at last have a chance,
To study their habits with more than a glance’.
‘And now that I can, you all think that I'm ill,
You send for the doctor and force feed me a pill’.
Those stood around him at once felt a shame,
They hadn't considered we aren't all the same.
So they each took a chair and stared at the wall,
All sat in waiting for the spider to crawl.
Not long were they seated when the old man smiled,
He new he had foxed them and somehow beguiled .
He took off his glasses and gave eyes a rub,
‘Enjoy all your evening, I'm off to the pub’.
So when in your dotage, disguise contemplation,
Or the well meaning carers might bring medication!
Indeed state it clearly, that would be the best.
Have ‘I love doing nothing’ tattooed on your chest.
Indeed state it clearly, that would be the best.
Have ‘I love doing nothing’ tattooed on your chest.
Hi BB, what a marvellous story I'm not a tattoo fan but I fancy that one! I thoroughly enjoyed this take on old age, it made me smile Welcome to Part 4 by the way BB
Thanks as always for the comments.
I don't get much opportunity for 'contemplation' , but I try to make a contribution every now and then to help with the cause
And the tiger who shielded the antelope's life
Was grateful for her kindly ways
And the antelope thanked him for easing the strife
So two friends could share hot hazy days.
Inspired by his first solo flight in a spitfire - climbing to beyond 30,000ft - this poem was written by 19 year old Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee in December 1941 - and posted to his parents in Canada, in an effort to describe his adventure.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Inspired by his first solo flight in a spitfire - climbing to beyond 30,000ft - this poem was written by 19 year old Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee in December 1941 - and posted to his parents in Canada, in an effort to describe his adventure.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
He was killed in action a few months later.
How sad and poignant for his parents but at the time of his writing of the poem, he must have been so overwhelmed with his experience.
There is a song by Fatboy Slim called Sunset(Bird Of Prey) and it fits the poem so well.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
What a marvellously evocative poem Elyan. Even without the sad truth behind the lines, it would still be beautiful and touching. Thanks for posting this
It seems churlish to bring up the rules again, but published works from the last hundred years or so are still censored here. FMs less familiar with the thread like Elyan have no way of knowing that and I'm glad John Gillespie Magee's poem has been sent in. That said, by getting the bulk of such material stopped my old enemies on DS cut off a pleasant avenue of enjoyment here forever. They also reported me to copyright authorities on another forum and tried to get me into trouble with accusations of plagiarism in America. Some charming people about aren't there? However, for me the best thing is the fact that the thread's gone from strength to strength, regardless of their petty attempt to derail it. Roll on Part 5
An old man in his chair sat and stared at the wall,
The doctor declared it was due to his fall.
He didn't move for hours, nor stop at his gaze,
‘I’ll give him some pills, to stave off his daze’.
The old man refused them, cried ‘What’s all the fuss !’
‘I’m watching a spider, I’m not catching a bus’.
‘All of you young ‘ens run around all day long,
Once I was the same, but now know it was wrong’.
‘I like watching insects and at last have a chance,
To study their habits with more than a glance’.
‘And now that I can, you all think that I'm ill,
You send for the doctor and force feed me a pill’.
Those stood around him at once felt a shame,
They hadn't considered we aren't all the same.
So they each took a chair and stared at the wall,
All sat in waiting for the spider to crawl.
Not long were they seated when the old man smiled,
He new he had foxed them and somehow beguiled .
He took off his glasses and gave eyes a rub,
‘Enjoy all your evening, I'm off to the pub’.
So when in your dotage, disguise contemplation,
Or the well meaning carers might bring medication!
Indeed state it clearly, that would be the best.
Have ‘I love doing nothing’ tattooed on your chest.
Comments
Hi Mr M.
Thanks for your comments - and the comments of others.
I always find it fascinating to read people's interpretations of poems and how they can vary - perhaps the poems touch a personal experience. When I wrote 'Brilliance' I had a particular image in my mind, different, but not altogether too different, from those it conjured up for others.
As Musty says I've commented on this before, but I've also realized that to fully appreciate poetry, I have to read it (not out loud but in my head).
I was hoping that Scottie would elucidate, but some authors like to keep people guessing.
I'll no doubt be reading the new version in the future.
I read that page, and John Aubrey seems to have been a bit unworldly - to lose all his inherited property and end his life relying on friends.
The content of my daydreams is a little different, but I like the idea of you getting rid of all the dangerous belligerents in the world and leaving everyone in peace.
I hope life is treating you well these days.
Fans of Avebury often are Biz
A stray antelope supped the pond unaware
Of a danger that moved not an ounce;
A tiger crouched there who was ready to snare
With an instinct to naturally pounce.
The ear-splitting roar and the terrible jaw
Of the hunter was due to be shown,
Then a strange thing occurred when the hungry cat saw
An image he’d never once known.
The antelope seemed such a beautiful thing
And the sunset so golden and wide
That he fell and rolled over and if he could sing
Nature's glory he might just have tried.
Now the antelope prayed for she'd constantly grade
Cats as killers yet somehow the stir
Of empathy grew when she saw how he played
Or stretched with a lovely warm purr.
When the rest of the herd noticed what had occurred
The antelope got ordered out
And the tiger's own pack turned their back when they heard,
Banned his stripes, didn’t want him about.
But this pair didn't mind, with enjoyment to find
They felt like two peas in a pod;
In the jungle, on plains, they had simply defined
How foes that can change are not odd.
And the tiger who shielded the antelope's life
Was grateful for her kindly ways
And the antelope thanked him for easing the strife
So two friends could share hot hazy days.
©
Call me a cynic Archiver, but I don't think we'll see (no, I know we wont't) your ideal world in our lifetimes...........and perhaps it will never materialize. One thing's sure if it does we'll be fast asleep forever and never know about it.
Of course you might manage to travel to another universe and find it - who knows.
Oooops! I missed that one yesterday. It's an interesting thought - but possible? Hmmmm.
We'll hope for a repeat of this glorious weather Musty. Fingers crossed.
I Googled "columbine" to combine perhaps
some gen to that already privy to my mind,
to research a bit and see what I might find.
What offered first, such things which trend,
was of course all about the awful shooting
routing one to every grim detail of horrors
off the scale. I felt then disinclined to bend
towards more knowledge of the tragic sad
outcome of a people’s constitutional right.
Preferring to uproot a subject that’s sweet.
Delightful and flighty flower so named after
its resemblance to a of lovey-dovey covey
of doves a bird symbolical and of a feather
with Peace. Am inclined to tweet on Twitter
to any who care to listen: "hashtag irony."
An irony indeed Frank and another incisive poem by you. You've also solved a mystery. I have a friend who lives near addresses like Juniper Lane, Rose Close and Heather Avenue. Columbine Road makes sense now
An old man in his chair sat and stared at the wall,
The doctor declared it was due to his fall.
He didn't move for hours, nor stop at his gaze,
‘I’ll give him some pills, to stave off his daze’.
The old man refused them, cried ‘What’s all the fuss !’
‘I’m watching a spider, I’m not catching a bus’.
‘All of you young ‘ens run around all day long,
Once I was the same, but now know it was wrong’.
‘I like watching insects and at last have a chance,
To study their habits with more than a glance’.
‘And now that I can, you all think that I'm ill,
You send for the doctor and force feed me a pill’.
Those stood around him at once felt a shame,
They hadn't considered we aren't all the same.
So they each took a chair and stared at the wall,
All sat in waiting for the spider to crawl.
Not long were they seated when the old man smiled,
He new he had foxed them and somehow beguiled .
He took off his glasses and gave eyes a rub,
‘Enjoy all your evening, I'm off to the pub’.
So when in your dotage, disguise contemplation,
Or the well meaning carers might bring medication!
Indeed state it clearly, that would be the best.
Have ‘I love doing nothing’ tattooed on your chest.
Brilliant BB - there's nothing else to add.
Beyond those snow-capped mountains
You dance as if a star
So forest lanes and fountains
Are lit up from afar.
What poet could arrange all
The loveliness of you?
A Botticelli angel,
An artist’s wish come true.
In dresses somehow greener
Where oaks or coral lie
You’re Isis and Athena,
The temptress Lorelei.
I can’t give you a palace
But skies make perfect floors,
Aurora Borealis:
The Northern Lights are yours.
In dreams of sea and moonlight
Your naked love I’ve owned
Where crystal waves are noon-bright
And whispered names are moaned.
Not even quills of Byron
Could trace your silver flight,
Come to me now my siren,
My goddess of the night.
©
Gorgeous poem Musty, really lovely .
Hi Biz and Mr M
Thanks as always for the comments.
I don't get much opportunity for 'contemplation' , but I try to make a contribution every now and then to help with the cause
Good luck with Part 4 :cool:
How about shady than hazy or shady hazy
That's a lovely line:D
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
- Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
He was killed in action a few months later.
There is a song by Fatboy Slim called Sunset(Bird Of Prey) and it fits the poem so well.
Ta Sandy, that's possibly my most romantic poem
Funny you should suggest that Sandy, as I'm not totally happy with the last line - I may incorporate your idea
What a marvellously evocative poem Elyan. Even without the sad truth behind the lines, it would still be beautiful and touching. Thanks for posting this
It seems churlish to bring up the rules again, but published works from the last hundred years or so are still censored here. FMs less familiar with the thread like Elyan have no way of knowing that and I'm glad John Gillespie Magee's poem has been sent in. That said, by getting the bulk of such material stopped my old enemies on DS cut off a pleasant avenue of enjoyment here forever. They also reported me to copyright authorities on another forum and tried to get me into trouble with accusations of plagiarism in America. Some charming people about aren't there? However, for me the best thing is the fact that the thread's gone from strength to strength, regardless of their petty attempt to derail it. Roll on Part 5
Eloquence of poetry said as just but thy word written and so beautifully, beholds an elegance of sentiment I'm sure, kind sir.
It was just a little comment as a little shade on a warm day is quite a comfort.:D