Weekly/Fortnightly Poetry Suggestions

Short Poetry Collections, Short Story Collections, and our Weekly Poetry Project
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spatel2
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Post by spatel2 »

Here is my Weekly Poetry Suggestion:

https://verse.press/poem/a-wraith-of-summertime-1967

Poem:
In its color, shade and shine,
'T was a summer warm as wine,
With an effervescent flavoring of flowered bough and vine,
And a fragrance and a taste
Of ripe roses gone to waste,
And a dreamy sense of sun- and moon- and star-light interlaced.

'Twas a summer such as broods
O'er enchanted solitudes,
Where the hand of Fancy leads us through voluptuary moods,
And with lavish love out-pours
All the wealth of out-of-doors,
And woos our feet o'er velvet paths and honeysuckle floors.

'Twas a summertime long dead, -
And its roses, white and red,
And its reeds and water-lilies down along the river-bed, -
O they all are ghostly things -
For the ripple never sings,
And the rocking lily never even rustles as it rings!
* Thanks, A better and more reliable link... http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15079
Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Other Poems by James Whitcomb Riley
~ Shriya
SonOfTheExiles
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Location: Sydney, Australia

Post by SonOfTheExiles »

Two years, two months and two weeks till the poetry of Australian poet E. J. Brady becomes PD.

Going to be a looong two year wait...

https://www.poetrylibrary.edu.au/poets/brady-e-j/poems/for-your-birthday-0090001

Chris
Currently on sabbatical from Librivox
TriciaG
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Post by TriciaG »

Here's a really short one, and provocative of many thoughts for me:

https://www.theotherpages.org/poems/millay02.html#1

Second Fig by Edna St. Vincent Millay

SAFE upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

Another gem from the same link:

Grown-up

WAS it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?
:lol:

EDIT: Oh, I see she died in 1950. Might want to wait until January to do these. :hmm:
Serial novel: The Wandering Jew
Medieval England meets Civil War Americans: Centuries Apart
Humor: My Lady Nicotine
TriciaG
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Post by TriciaG »

A CANADIAN SONG (By Susanna Moodie)

Come, launch the light canoe;
The breeze is fresh and strong;
The summer skies are blue,
And 'tis joy to float along;
Away o'er the waters,
The bright-glancing waters,
The many-voiced waters,
As they dance in light and song.

When the great Creator spoke,
On the long unmeasured night
The living day-spring broke,
And the waters own'd His might;
The voice of many waters,
Of glad, rejoicing waters,
Of living, leaping waters,
First hailed the dawn of light.

Where foaming billows glide
To earth's remotest bound;
The rushing ocean tide
Rolls on the solemn sound;
God's voice is in the waters;
The deep, mysterious waters,
The sleepless, dashing waters,
Still breathe its tones around.


http://www.gutenberg.org/files/4389/4389-h/4389-h.htm#link2HCH0019
(at the end of chapter 18. This link is to the start of chapter 19.)
Serial novel: The Wandering Jew
Medieval England meets Civil War Americans: Centuries Apart
Humor: My Lady Nicotine
Newgatenovelist
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Joined: February 17th, 2015, 7:22 am

Post by Newgatenovelist »

I would like to suggest a rondeau by Sophie Jewett. She has had one weekly poem in 2008, so it might be nice to have another, different poem now.
https://archive.org/details/poemsofsophiejew00jewerich/page/24/mode/2up

"If Spirits Walk"

"I have heard (but not believed) the spirits of the dead
May walk again."
WINTER'S TALE.

If spirits walk, Love, when the night climbs slow
The slant footpath where we were wont to go,
Be sure that I shall take the self-same way
To the hill-crest, and shoreward, down the gray,
Sheer, gravelled slope, where vetches straggling grow.

Look for me not when gusts of winter blow,
When at thy pane beat hands of sleet and snow;
I would not come thy dear eyes to affray,
If spirits walk.

But when, in June, the pines are whispering low,
And when their breath plays with thy bright hair so
As some one’s fingers once were used to play—
That hour when birds leave song, and children pray,
Keep the old tryst, sweetheart, and thou shalt know
If spirits walk.
Off LV 25-28 March.
SonOfTheExiles
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Location: Sydney, Australia

Post by SonOfTheExiles »

“A Psalm of Patience”, by Joseph Furphy (aka “Tom Collins”)

Not exactly the Seven Ages of Man, but rather amusing, particularly that final stanza.

“O kid! with face of healthy tan,
With lunch-bag, books and slate;
You needn't long to be a man,
Self-confident and great;
For ever since the world began
Each boy must spring to Nature's plan,
Must worry through as best he can —
Make up your mind to Wait.

O young galoot! you find it rough —
This iron hand of Fate!
Your confidence is mostly bluff,
And doubts preponderate —
Are you the genuine all-wool stuff?
Are you a daisy or a muff? —
Patience! you'll find out soon enough,
If you can only Wait.

O baffled bloke! with no resource!
Whose knowledge comes too late;
Whose prospects change from bad to worse,
Till Hope gives place to Hate!
Sick of existence, and perforce
Impatient for the long divorce —
You'll get your call in proper course,
Take my advice, and Wait.

O geezer! drawing near the test
That none may obviate;
Don't waste your time in fruitless quest
Re man's post-mortem state.
That doubt will soon be set at rest —
You'll be extinguish'd, grill'd, or blest,
Or spook the world from east to west.
Meanwhile, you have to Wait.”


https://adc.library.usyd.edu.au/data-2/v00039.pdf
Currently on sabbatical from Librivox
KevinS
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Post by KevinS »

https://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/drive_the_cold_winter_away.htm

All hail to the days that merit more praise
Than all the rest of the year,
And welcome the nights that double delights,
As well for the poor as the peer!
Good fortune attend each merry man’s friend,
That doth but the best that he may;
Forgetting old wrongs, with carols and songs,
To drive the cold winter away.

This time of the year is spent in good cheer,
And neighbours together do meet,
To sit by the fire, with friendly desire,
Each other in love do greet;
Old grudges forgot, are put in the pot,
All sorrows aside they lay,
The old and the young doth carol his song,
To drive the cold winter away.

To mask and to mum kind neighbours will come
With wassails of nut-brown ale,
To drink and carouse to all in the house,
As merry as bucks in the dale;
Where cake, bread and cheese is brought for your fees,
To make you the longer stay;
At the fire to warm will do you no harm,
To drive the cold winter away.

When Christmastide comes in like a bride,
With holly and ivy clad,
Twelve days in the year, much mirth and good cheer,
In every household is had;
The country guise is then to devise
Some gambols of Christmas play,
Whereat the young men do best that they can,
To drive the cold winter away.

When white-bearded frost hath threatened his worst,
And fallen from branch and brier,
Then time away calls, from husbandry halls
And from the good countryman’s fire,
Together to go to plough and to sow,
To get us both food and array;
And thus with content the time we have spent
To drive the cold winter away.
RomaSingh
Posts: 520
Joined: September 17th, 2020, 1:01 pm

Post by RomaSingh »

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/12242/12242-h/12242-h.htm
I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf

The sexton keeps the key to,
Putting up
Our life, his porcelain,
Like a cup

Discarded of the housewife,
Quaint or broken;
A newer Sevres pleases,
Old ones crack.

I could not die with you,
For one must wait
To shut the other's gaze down, —
You could not.

And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death's privilege?

Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus',
That new grace

Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.

They'd judge us — how?
For you served Heaven, you know,
Or sought to;
I could not,

Because you saturated sight,
And I had no more eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise.

And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the heavenly fame.

And were you saved,
And I condemned to be
Where you were not,
That self were hell to me.

So we must keep apart,
You there, I here,
With just the door ajar
That oceans are,
And prayer,
And that pale sustenance,
Despair!
msfry
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Post by msfry »

I am cross-posting this from the Zoom Discussion Thread, in case any of our regular poetry enthusiasts want to participate. If you think you'll be there, please RSVP williamjones via PM. I hope to see you there this Sunday. :D

FINALLY: THE ZOOM INVITE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR:
THE FIRST LIBRIVOX POETRY SLAM !!!


Sunday 20 December 2020 at 3pm, Central Time.
Read your treasured poems, Cackle over your ribald limericks.
Move the audience to tears.
Librivoxers are encouraged to come recite a handful of their own poems.
Each poem recited should be no longer than four minutes or in length.
If things slow down near the end of our time, maybe some poems from Librivox projects can be read.

Audiences are god's gift to poets ==> BE ONE, BE THERE !!!
Sunday at 3pm

Join Zoom Meeting
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/88427893337
silverquill
Posts: 28809
Joined: May 25th, 2013, 9:11 pm
Location: Southern California

Post by silverquill »

https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63790
by by Effie Smith

A NEW YEAR’S HOPE

I dare not hope that in this dawning year
I shall accomplish all my dreams hold dear;
That I, when this year closes, shall have wrought
All the high tasks that my ambitions sought,
And that I shall be then the spirit free,
Strong, and unselfish, that I long to be.

But truly do I hope, resolve, and pray
That, as the new year passes, day by day
My footsteps, howsoever short and slow,
Shall still press forward in the path they go,
And that my eyes, uplifted evermore,
Shall look forth dauntless to the things before;
And when this new year with the old has gone,
I still may courage have to struggle on.
~ Larry
aradlaw
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Post by aradlaw »

silverquill wrote: December 24th, 2020, 9:30 am https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63790
by by Effie Smith

A NEW YEAR’S HOPE
Thanks for that suggestion Larry, I find that Effie Smith died in 1960, 10 years short of our life + 70 PDness for a lot of countries.
David Lawrence

* Weekly & Fortnightly Poetry - Check out the Short Works forum for the latest projects!
silverquill
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Joined: May 25th, 2013, 9:11 pm
Location: Southern California

Post by silverquill »

aradlaw wrote: December 26th, 2020, 3:05 pm
silverquill wrote: December 24th, 2020, 9:30 am https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63790
by by Effie Smith

A NEW YEAR’S HOPE
Thanks for that suggestion Larry, I find that Effie Smith died in 1960, 10 years short of our life + 70 PDness for a lot of countries.
Ah, of course! I'll be more alert to that. :thumbs:
~ Larry
TriciaG
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Post by TriciaG »

TriciaG wrote: October 16th, 2020, 3:20 pm Here's a really short one, and provocative of many thoughts for me:

https://www.theotherpages.org/poems/millay02.html#1

Second Fig by Edna St. Vincent Millay

SAFE upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

Another gem from the same link:

Grown-up

WAS it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?
:lol:

EDIT: Oh, I see she died in 1950. Might want to wait until January to do these. :hmm:
As of tomorrow, these are PD for Life+70 countries. :D
Serial novel: The Wandering Jew
Medieval England meets Civil War Americans: Centuries Apart
Humor: My Lady Nicotine
rmreese1
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Post by rmreese1 »

I call myself looking to see if the poem below has been used, but high probability that I missed it :mrgreen: So will suggest the following:

Remember Thee By Thomas Moore


Remember thee? yes, while there's life in this heart,
It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art;
More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers,
Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours.

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea,
I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow,
But oh! could I love thee more deeply than now?

No, thy chains as they rankle, thy blood as it runs,
But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons--
Whose hearts, like the young of the desert-bird's nest,
Drink love in each life-drop that flows from thy breast.

https://www.public-domain-poetry.com/thomas-moore/remember-thee-26821


*It does not show up in our catalog
* http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8187 [The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore by Thomas Moore]
fshort
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Joined: June 20th, 2011, 7:02 pm
Location: Woodstock, VT. USA

Post by fshort »

I didn’t find this in our catalogue.


The Negro Speaks of Rivers
Langston Hughes - 1902-1967






I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
Florence Short
"...he not busy being born is busy dying."
Lyrics from Bob Dylan song
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