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Poet's Corner

Discussion in 'After Hours Lounge (Off Topic)' started by Neil Middlemiss, Mar 6, 2015.

  1. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Any poets or poetry lovers out there?


    I am a lover of poetry, Thomas Hardy perhaps being my most treasured poet. I have also written poetry over the years and thought about sharing some of my favourite pieces but wasn't sure of there was anyone else brave or willing enough to share their works too :)


    So I thought I'd ask.


    In the meantime, here is perhaps my favourite poem of all time, by the great Thomas Hardy.


    The Going


    Why did you give no hint that night

    That quickly after the morrow's dawn,

    And calmly, as if indifferent quite,

    You would close your term here, up and be gone

    Where I could not follow

    With wing of swallow

    To gain one glimpse of you ever anon!


    Never to bid good-bye,

    Or lip me the softest call,

    Or utter a wish for a word, while I

    Saw morning harden upon the wall,

    Unmoved, unknowing

    That your great going

    Had place that moment, and altered all.


    Why do you make me leave the house

    And think for a breath it is you I see

    At the end of the alley of bending boughs

    Where so often at dusk you used to be;

    Till in darkening dankness

    The yawning blankness

    Of the perspective sickens me!


    You were she who abode

    By those red-veined rocks far West,

    You were the swan-necked one who rode

    Along the beetling Beeny Crest,

    And, reining nigh me,

    Would muse and eye me,

    While Life unrolled us its very best.


    Why, then, latterly did we not speak,

    Did we not think of those days long dead,

    And ere your vanishing strive to seek

    That time's renewal? We might have said,

    "In this bright spring weather

    We'll visit together

    Those places that once we visited."


    Well, well! All's past amend,

    Unchangeable. It must go.

    I seem but a dead man held on end

    To sink down soon. . . . O you could not know

    That such swift fleeing

    No soul foreseeing—

    Not even I—would undo me so!

    Thomas Hardy
     
  2. Sam Posten

    Sam Posten Moderator
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    I like e. e. cummings, Samuel Coleridge Taylor and Robert Frost. This is my favorite Frost Poem:


    http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/a_f/frost/fireice.htm

    Anyone lived in a pretty how town is my favorite e.e. cummings poem

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/11856
     
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  3. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Thanks Sam! Frost was indeed a very clever poet. I think the allure of poetry has always been the clever, powerful use of language in abstract ways - the ability to surprise - in addition to the philosophical musings.


    In my college days I was (perhaps not unexpectedly,) drawn to beat poetry. I'll have to dig out my old Ginsberg and Kerouac to see what draws me in again.


    I'd not heard that Cummings performance before, so thanks for sharing!
     
  4. Sam Posten

    Sam Posten Moderator
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    I hadn't heard it either and it was way different than I would have expected. I always heard it said in a voice like Capote's, dunno why.
     
  5. Cameron Yee

    Cameron Yee Executive Producer
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    I'm not familiar with a lot of poets, but many of Frost's poems in "A Boy's Will" resonated with me in a big way after college.
     
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  6. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    I'd not read this collection, but browsing through it this evening came across this terrific piece:


    A Dream Pang


    I had withdrawn in forest, and my song
    Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway;
    And to the forest edge you came one day
    (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long,
    But did not enter, though the wish was strong:
    You shook your pensive head as who should say,
    'I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray--
    He must seek me would he undo the wrong.


    Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all
    Behind low boughs the trees let down outside;
    And the sweet pang it cost me not to call
    And tell you that I saw does still abide.
    But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof,
    For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.
     
  7. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Well, I hope I'm not the only person who writes their own poetry AND has an enthusiasm for home theater :)


    In case I am, and bravely I will admit, I'll share one of my poems that I wrote back in 2004 - I believe for an open mic event at work. I hope there are others out there who would share something they've written too!


    Woken

    I took myself out of a sleep, deeper than the galaxy goes

    Sunny glows, open window, weeping pillow tapping my shoulder.

    Up and swimming toward the door, ripples across the floor, no paper anymore on the welcome mat.

    The yard is a yellow brick road.

    I paused

    I’m still sleeping. Glowing sun not creeping through open windows. Pillows not weeping and my shoulder utterly untapped.

    I am sleeping deeper than the galaxy goes
     
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  8. Josh Steinberg

    Josh Steinberg Executive Producer
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    Thanks for sharing, Neil! I enjoyed your poem and admire your bravery in being the first to post an original :)
     
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  9. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Okay - here's a poem I wrote over 20 years ago when I was just out of college in the UK.


    Hoping that other's will share their own work, or some of their favorite pieces from other poets out there!

    Faraway Planets
    Faraway planets, upon me glare​
    as I, to you, with heavenly stare​
    do list in mind the places​
    to see and the many faces​
    to bury an embrace, as on​
    I roam through the universes garden.​
    Faraway, untouchable globes​
    blanket the plain, the darkest robe​
    speckled by your unending light​
    that lightly breathes through the night​
    until you soak away again​
    to the nothingness from where you came.​
    Faraway, simply too far from me​
    I wish that I could someday be​
    amongst your consuming dreams​
    of dark and light that so endlessly seem​
    to play inside each other’s way​
    all through the night and then our day.​
    By Neil Middlemiss​
    June 9th, 1994​
     
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  10. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    It's a rainy Friday here in North Carolina, perfect day for some Thomas Hardy. Here's another of his fine pieces.


    I Look Into My Glass By Thomas Hardy


    I look into my glass,

    And view my wasting skin,

    And say, “Would God it came to pass

    My heart had shrunk as thin!”


    For then, I, undistrest

    By hearts grown cold to me,

    Could lonely wait my endless rest

    With equanimity.


    But Time, to make me grieve,

    Part steals, lets part abide;

    And shakes this fragile frame at eve

    With throbbings of noontide.
     
  11. David_B_K

    David_B_K Advanced Member

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    I cannot write poetry, but do love to read it/hear it. I still have an old recording of Richard Burton reading some great poems, among them Gerard Manley Hopkins' THE LEADEN ECHO and THE GOLDEN ECHO. Hopkins' "sprung rhythms" were beautifully read by Burton.
     
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  12. John Kilduff

    John Kilduff Screenwriter

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    Several years ago, back when I wrote for RetroJunk, I wrote a poem about 80s movies: http://www.retrojunk.com/article/show/2929/the-neon-screen


    More germane to the subject, I had a poem published in a national anthology in high school. It was a piece I wrote about surviving high school with the help of friends and loved ones. I'll have to find the book it was located in, but it was published in either 2000 or 2001.


    Sincerely,


    John Kilduff...


    Once I find it, I'll transcribe it.
     
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  13. Dr Griffin

    Dr Griffin Cinematographer

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    Neil, I've enjoyed your poems, and I also have an original that is in a universal vein - it has been a work in progress for about a year, and I'm still working on it

    But here is a short one I wrote:


    TO WHAT END


    I have stood too long upon this rock

    In a divergent gaze toward purpose

    To step into an abyss of longing

    And shield a futile pretentious sorrow

    But what not have I accorded it

    My well worn aversion

    To abscond with my fate

    And breathe no more the air of discontent
     
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  14. Sam Posten

    Sam Posten Moderator
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    Two of my faves have very similar tone, if not theme:

    and
     
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  15. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Your poem brought a smile to my face...walking down memory lane and those movies - my personal favorite part:


    You could call Rumack many things,
    But Shirley wasn't one.
    The crew all somehow played it straight,
    But we, the fans, had fun.



    :)


    I had a poem published in a national anthology when I was in middle school back in the UK. It was about child abuse (something I had NO first hand knowledge of,) and I riffed the title from a U2 song that I really liked. The poem was called 'Child of the Disappeared." I'll have to track it down and see if I think it holds up today.


    Thanks for sharing, John.
     
  16. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    Sam - I have a thing for long poems (for some reason,) I wrote a 6-part poem that featured 300 lines per poem. I won't subject you to them, but they are among the favorites of all that I have written.


    And I loved the two you posted. Certainly kindred themes.
     
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  17. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    I love it!
     
  18. Sam Posten

    Sam Posten Moderator
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    I might have to get this:
    http://www.brainpickings.org/2015/03/30/enormous-smallness-e-e-cummings-matthew-burgess/?utm_content=bufferf9cc4&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer

    Another favorite!

     
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  19. Neil Middlemiss

    Neil Middlemiss Producer
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    This dangerous land
    with uncaring hand
    was once a soft and gentle earth
    exalted by history’s worth
    Now it sleeps knowing not
    The boy it forgot
    The boy that left
    Through chosen theft
    To break the shore
    And know no more
    The crashing winds
    Or clouds that sinned
    For too much rain
    To soak again
    The greenest fields
    Under tree’s, oak shields
    Where has that place
    Put its face
    Where has that world
    Crushed and curled
    Its grandeur
    Its posture
    Of the greatest empire
    Throughout the entire
    Continents of this planet
    Of rock, marble, sand and granite
    Of seas and rivers, lakes and falls
    A fallen empire that history appalls.
    Monarchy facades
    Faces on playing cards
    And royal subjects
    Rising to object
    To pomp and circumstance
    The ridiculous royal dance.
    That place I knew
    I showed to you
    With wonder and disdain
    With love and pain
    Remember the church
    On tourists search
    That we bussed to
    The hills through
    The musty odour
    The religious overture
    A Cathedral of stone
    My heart was not my own
    I was never alone...


    Excerpt of one of my looooong poems :)
     
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