COMPLETE [poetry] Poems & Parodies by Tom Kettle -ck

[MrsHand]

Here are sections 4 & 6:


https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_04_kettle_128kb.mp3 04:30
https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_06_kettle_128kb.mp3 10:06

[Carolin]

Thank you kristin!

[NemoR]

Here are sections 4 & 6:


https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_04_kettle_128kb.mp3 04:30
https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_06_kettle_128kb.mp3 10:06

Thanks K.

These are both PL OK!

Nemo

[Carolin]

thank you nemo

[jasonb]

I will take War Poems, please.

[Carolin]

Thank you jason!

[Carolin]

We have an orphan!

[aniroo]

I would like to claim section 2, Personal. If I understand it rightly, there are 3 poems in this section?

aniroo

[Carolin]

thank you aniroo

that section contains everything under personal until early poems:

PERSONAL

"Memorial I would have
... a constant presence
with those that love me"

DEDICATION SONNET

TO MY WIFE

"Not the sea, only, wrecks the hopes of men,
Look deeper, there is shipwreck everywhere,"
So mourned the exquisite Roman's rich despair,
Too high in death for that ignoble pen.
Nero, his wrecker, is amply wrecked since then,
And all that Rome's a whiff of charnel air;
But to subdue Petronius' mal-de-mer
Have we found drugs? I pray you, What? and When?

Shipwreck, one grieves to say, retains its vogue:
Or let the keel win on in stouter fashion,
And look! your golden lie of Tir-na-n'Og
Is sunset and waste waters, chill and ashen--
Faith lasts? Nay, since I knew your yielded eyes,
I am content with sight .... of Paradise.

TO MY DAUGHTER BETTY,
THE GIFT OF GOD

(ELIZABETH DOROTHY)

In wiser days, my darling rosebud, blown
To beauty proud as was your mother's prime,
In that desired, delayed, incredible time,
You'll ask why I abandoned you, my own,
And the dear heart that was your baby throne,
To dice with death. And oh! they'll give you rhyme
And reason: some will call the thing sublime,
And some decry it in a knowing tone.
So here, while the mad guns curse overhead,
And tired men sigh with mud for couch and floor,
Know that we fools, now with the foolish dead,
Died not for flag, nor King, nor Emperor,
But for a dream, born in a herdsman's shed,
And for the secret Scripture of the poor.

the field, before Guillemont, Somme,
September 4, 1916.

ON LEAVING IRELAND

(JULY 14, 1916)

The pathos of departure is indubitable.

I never felt my own essay "On saying Good-Bye" so profoundly aux tréfonds du coeur. The sun was a clear globe of blood which we caught hanging over Ben Edar, with a trail of pure blood vibrating to us across the waves. It dropped into darkness before we left the deck. Some lines came to me, suggested by a friend who thought the mood cynical.

As the sun died in blood, and hill and sea
Grew to an altar, red with mystery,
One came who knew me (it may be over-much)
Seeking the cynical and staining touch,
But I, against the great sun's burial
Thought only of bayonet-flash and bugle-call,
And saw him as God's eye upon the deep,
Closed in the dream in which no women weep,
And knew that even I shall fall on sleep.

EPIGRAM

If grief, like fire, smoked up against our sight,
The Earth were scarfèd in eternal night.

[aniroo]

I missed a couple. I have a little trouble opening those documents sometimes.
aniroo

thank you aniroo

that section contains everything under personal until early poems:

PERSONAL

"Memorial I would have
... a constant presence
with those that love me"

DEDICATION SONNET

TO MY WIFE

"Not the sea, only, wrecks the hopes of men,
Look deeper, there is shipwreck everywhere,"
So mourned the exquisite Roman's rich despair,
Too high in death for that ignoble pen.
Nero, his wrecker, is amply wrecked since then,
And all that Rome's a whiff of charnel air;
But to subdue Petronius' mal-de-mer
Have we found drugs? I pray you, What? and When?

Shipwreck, one grieves to say, retains its vogue:
Or let the keel win on in stouter fashion,
And look! your golden lie of Tir-na-n'Og
Is sunset and waste waters, chill and ashen--
Faith lasts? Nay, since I knew your yielded eyes,
I am content with sight .... of Paradise.

TO MY DAUGHTER BETTY,
THE GIFT OF GOD

(ELIZABETH DOROTHY)

In wiser days, my darling rosebud, blown
To beauty proud as was your mother's prime,
In that desired, delayed, incredible time,
You'll ask why I abandoned you, my own,
And the dear heart that was your baby throne,
To dice with death. And oh! they'll give you rhyme
And reason: some will call the thing sublime,
And some decry it in a knowing tone.
So here, while the mad guns curse overhead,
And tired men sigh with mud for couch and floor,
Know that we fools, now with the foolish dead,
Died not for flag, nor King, nor Emperor,
But for a dream, born in a herdsman's shed,
And for the secret Scripture of the poor.

the field, before Guillemont, Somme,
September 4, 1916.

ON LEAVING IRELAND

(JULY 14, 1916)

The pathos of departure is indubitable.

I never felt my own essay "On saying Good-Bye" so profoundly aux tréfonds du coeur. The sun was a clear globe of blood which we caught hanging over Ben Edar, with a trail of pure blood vibrating to us across the waves. It dropped into darkness before we left the deck. Some lines came to me, suggested by a friend who thought the mood cynical.

As the sun died in blood, and hill and sea
Grew to an altar, red with mystery,
One came who knew me (it may be over-much)
Seeking the cynical and staining touch,
But I, against the great sun's burial
Thought only of bayonet-flash and bugle-call,
And saw him as God's eye upon the deep,
Closed in the dream in which no women weep,
And knew that even I shall fall on sleep.

EPIGRAM

If grief, like fire, smoked up against our sight,
The Earth were scarfèd in eternal night.

[Carolin]

[aniroo]

There has been quite a bit of smoke in our area from wildfires. I noticed in my voice, particularly in the poem to My Daughter, Betty. If you think it is too distracting, I wouldn't mind re recording it.

https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_02_kettle.mp3 3:53


aniroo

[Carolin]

thank you!

[NemoR]

There has been quite a bit of smoke in our area from wildfires. I noticed in my voice, particularly in the poem to My Daughter, Betty. If you think it is too distracting, I wouldn't mind re recording it.

https://librivox.org/uploads/carolin/poemsparodies_02_kettle.mp3 3:53


aniroo

Thanks aniroo!

The recording was fine, no need to do again. Even with smoke, you sound good!

This is PL OK!

Nemo

[Carolin]

Thank yxou nemo!