Weekly/Fortnightly Poetry Suggestions

Short Poetry Collections, Short Story Collections, and our Weekly Poetry Project
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msfry
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Post by msfry » June 15th, 2018, 7:55 am

David has invited me to host the next Fortnightly poem. It will be ready to go on his signal. The poem, with it's masterful choice of heavy-laden words, and great alliteration that sounds like a drumbeat, is Longfellow's

THE SLAVE IN THE DISMAL SWAMP

In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp
The hunted Negro lay;
He saw the fire of the midnight camp,
And heard at times a horse's tramp
And a bloodhound's distant bay.

Where will-o'-the-wisps and glowworms shine,
In bulrush and in brake;
Where waving mosses shroud the pine,
And the cedar grows, and the poisonous vine
Is spotted like the snake;

Where hardly a human foot could pass,
Or a human heart would dare,
On the quaking turf of the green morass
He crouched in the rank and tangled grass,
Like a wild beast in his lair.

A poor old slave, infirm and lame;
Great scars deformed his face;
On his forehead he bore the brand of shame,
And the rags, that hid his mangled frame,
Were the livery of disgrace.

All things above were bright and fair,
All things were glad and free;
Lithe squirrels darted here and there,
And wild birds filled the echoing air
With songs of Liberty!

On him alone was the doom of pain,
From the morning of his birth;
On him alone the curse of Cain
Fell, like a flail on the garnered grain,
And struck him to the earth!
Michele Fry, CC
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aradlaw
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Post by aradlaw » June 15th, 2018, 7:30 pm

msfry wrote:
June 15th, 2018, 7:55 am
David has invited me to host the next Fortnightly poem. It will be ready to go on his signal.
Thanks Michele, the current Fortnightly is over this weekend, feel free to post Sunday morning. :)
David Lawrence

* Weekly & Fortnightly Poetry - Check out the Short Works forum for the latest projects!

msfry
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Post by msfry » June 23rd, 2018, 11:13 am

Here is a suggestion for a future Fortnightly or Weekly, whichever you think best applies. I'd like to BC.

"The Lost Chord" is a song composed by Arthur Sullivan in 1877 (of Gilbert and Sullivan fame) at the bedside of his brother Fred during Fred's last illness. The manuscript is dated 13 January 1877; Fred Sullivan died five days later. The lyric was written as a poem by Adelaide Anne Procter called "A Lost Chord", published in 1858 in The English Woman's Journal.
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2304

A Lost Chord

Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.

I know not what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then;
But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.

It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an angel's psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife;
It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexèd meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loth to cease.

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,
Which came from the soul of the organ,
And entered into mine.

It may be that death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again,
It may be that only in Heav'n
I shall hear that grand Amen.
Last edited by msfry on June 23rd, 2018, 11:39 am, edited 1 time in total.
Michele Fry, CC
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"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
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msfry
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Post by msfry » June 23rd, 2018, 11:34 am

Here's another suggestion, which perhaps could be presented as a double poem, (because they are two poems from the same book, and with the same tongue-in-cheek theme.) I'd be happy to BC this, whenever you want me to.
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55670

Dorothy Parker's
MEN I’M NOT MARRIED TO

No matter where my route may lie,
No matter whither I repair,
In brief—no matter how or why
Or when I go, the boys are there.

On lane and byways, street and square,
On alley, path and avenue,
They seem to spring up everywhere—
The men I am not married to.

I watch them as they pass me by;
At each in wonderment I stare,
And, “but for heaven’s grace,” I cry,
“There goes the guy whose name I’d wear!”

They represent no species rare,
They walk and talk as others do;
They’re fair to see—but only fair—
The men I am not married to.

I’m sure that to a mother’s eye
Is each potentially a bear.
But though at home they rank ace-high,
No change of heart could I declare.

Yet worry silvers not their hair;
They deck them not with sprigs of rue.
It’s curious how they do not care—
The men I am not married to.

L’Envoi

In fact, if they’d a chance to share
Their lot with me, a lifetime through,
They’d doubtless tender me the air—
The men I am not married to.

followed by Franklin P. Adams'

WOMEN I’M NOT MARRIED TO

"to MRS. FRANKLIN P. ADAMS, but for whom this book might not have been written, but for whom it was."

“Whene’er I take my walks”—you know
The rest—“abroad,” I always meet
Elaine or Maude or Anne or Flo,
Belinda, Blanche, or Marguerite;

And Melancholy, bittersweet,
Sets seal upon me when I view—
Coldly, and from a judgment seat—
The women I’m not married to.

Not mine the sighs for Long Ago;
Not mine to mourn the obsolete;
With Burns and Shelley, Keats and Poe
I have no yearning to compete.

No Dead Sea pickled pears I eat;
I never touch a drop of rue;
I toast, and drink my pleasure neat,
The women I’m not married to!

Fate with her celebrated blow
Frequently knocks me off my feet;
And Life her dice box chucks a throw
That usually has me beat.

Yet although Love has tried to treat
Me rough, award the kid his due.
Look at the list, though incomplete:
The women I’m not married to.

L’Envoi

My dears whom gracefully I greet,
Gaze at these lucky ladies who
Are of—to make this thing concrete—
The women I’m not married to.
Michele Fry, CC
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"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
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Post by Carolin » June 25th, 2018, 5:33 am

this might be cute for a fortnightly. either just the poem or the poem and the foreword in one.
https://archive.org/details/youwobblywinkeye00edwa
You wobbly wink-eyed little wop and The wobbly wink-eyed wop deserts, in verse ..
by Edwards, J. Clarence, 1888- [from old catalog]
Carolin

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Post by Carolin » July 15th, 2018, 12:16 pm

Carolin

Please help us finish Zofloya, a gothic tale of horror, love, and intrigue, in which the devil himself pulls the strings...

Elizabby
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Post by Elizabby » July 20th, 2018, 2:45 pm

For the Weekly poem I really think the third poem in this collection would be lovely with a variety of voices: https://archive.org/details/fromqueensgarden00port

The Elizabeth Barrett Browning one called "Consolation".

ChuckW
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Post by ChuckW » July 24th, 2018, 7:29 pm

Working on The Book of American Negro Poetry right now and just listened to a volunteer's recording of this James D. Corrothers poem, which kinda blew me away.

AT THE CLOSED GATE OF JUSTICE
To be a Negro in a day like this
Demands forgiveness. Bruised with blow on blow,
Betrayed, like him whose woe dimmed eyes gave bliss
Still must one succor those who brought one low,
To be a Negro in a day like this.
To be a Negro in a day like this
Demands rare patience—patience that can wait
In utter darkness. 'Tis the path to miss,
And knock, unheeded, at an iron gate,
To be a Negro in a day like this.
To be a Negro in a day like this
Demands strange loyalty. We serve a flag
Which is to us white freedom's emphasis.
Ah! one must love when Truth and Justice lag,
To be a Negro in a day like this.
To be a Negro in a day like this—
Alas! Lord God, what evil have we done?
Still shines the gate, all gold and amethyst,
But I pass by, the glorious goal unwon,
"Merely a Negro"—in a day like this!
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msfry
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Post by msfry » July 29th, 2018, 10:46 am

I'd like to give LV'ers (including me) a chance to recite IF, by Rudyard Kipling. Last time it was a Poetry Weekly was in 2006. Of course there are numerous instances of this magnificent poem in the collections. I can BC a Fortnightly whenever there is an opening.
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15529

IF—
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone.
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!
Michele Fry, CC
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"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
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Post by aradlaw » July 29th, 2018, 3:18 pm

Go ahead and post this as the New Fortnightly Michele. :D
Thanks.
David Lawrence

* Weekly & Fortnightly Poetry - Check out the Short Works forum for the latest projects!

msfry
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Post by msfry » July 29th, 2018, 8:04 pm

Will do tomorrow. YeaH!
Michele Fry, CC
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"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
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Elizabby
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Post by Elizabby » August 10th, 2018, 5:06 pm

Here's another nice one for a weekly from the Elizabeth Barrett Browning collection: Truth

https://archive.org/stream/fromqueensgarden00port#page/34

msfry
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Post by msfry » August 10th, 2018, 8:54 pm

Carolin wrote:
July 15th, 2018, 12:16 pm
this is a cute one :)
https://archive.org/details/throughallyears00fole
Tell you what, Carolin. I'll BC this project if you promise to read it, too. It's a really lovely poem that touches my heart. :D
Michele Fry, CC
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"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
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Post by Carolin » August 10th, 2018, 11:43 pm

Thats nice michele, only i cant promise to read anything at the moment. Sadly i only recorded a handful of sections in 2018 and i dont see it getting better soon.

I just posted this poem as a suggestion :)
Carolin

Please help us finish Zofloya, a gothic tale of horror, love, and intrigue, in which the devil himself pulls the strings...

msfry
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Post by msfry » August 12th, 2018, 3:53 pm

Carolin wrote:
August 10th, 2018, 11:43 pm
Thats nice michele, only i cant promise to read anything at the moment. Sadly i only recorded a handful of sections in 2018 and i dont see it getting better soon.

I just posted this poem as a suggestion :)
Okay, okay, I'll let you off the hook for the time being, but I like the poem so well I went ahead and posted it at David's invitation. So there it will soon be, just as you suggested. :D
Michele Fry, CC
My Projects
"Knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit is Knowledge. Wisdom is not putting one in a fruit salad."
.

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