Posted 08 March 2005 - 11:14 AM
This is very similar to the Book Chain or the Song Chain threads - except based on actual chunks of poetry, rather than titles. (Borrowed this from the forum at the ShipofFools website.)
The idea is that I will post up a short extract from a poem - maybe four or five lines or so, nothing too big or unwieldy. The next person to come along has to post up another extract, from a different poem, which has a word in common with the first extract. (A distinctive, interesting word, please, rather than "and" or "the", or similar )
The person after that posts another extract, which has a word in common with the second persons extract.
Does that make sense?
If you post the title and poet of the extract too, then we have the chance to go away and look it up, and maybe discover some new poetry along the way. Also helpful if you can highlight for us what the repeated word is, perhaps. Extracts don't have to be the start of a poem, they can be taken from the middle or end too) I think it might be quite hard....so feel free to use such reference tools as you see fit - maybe better if it is a poem is one you are at least slightly familiar with though, rather than something found completely at random on Google!
If you can find extracts with several words, or a short phrase in common with the previous one, then you get tons of extra points, (though no-one is counting!) and you can go around all day feeling very smug!
So the first extract is something well known and very appropriate to the time of year:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
(by William Wordsworth - the title is the first line, I think, though it also gets called "Daffodils" - Click the link to read the rest of it!)
Posted 08 March 2005 - 10:07 PM
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide
'Loveliest of Trees' by A.E. Housman
Posted 09 March 2005 - 09:22 AM
How about something from the middle of:
The Doormouse and the Doctor , by A A Milne,
They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white)
"And now," said the Doctor, "we'll soon have you right."
Posted 10 March 2005 - 08:54 PM
'Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a Sieve'
I'm fond of this because it made my daughter laugh so much when I used to read it to her at bedtime
Posted 11 March 2005 - 09:44 PM
In a beautiful pea green boat.
They took some honey,
And plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
Edward Lear (as if I needed to add that)
Thanks for the Houseman quote. I get to recite him every April when the big flowering cherry in my garden is 'decked with snow'.
Posted 12 March 2005 - 08:36 PM
SUNDAY night and the park policemen tell each other it
is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan.
A big picnic boat comes home to Chicago from the peach
farms of Saugatuck.
Hundreds of electric bulbs break the night's darkness, a
flock of red and yellow birds with wings at a standstill.
Running along the deck railings are festoons and leaping
in curves are loops of light from prow and stern
to the tall smokestacks.
Over the hoarse crunch of waves at my pier comes a
hoarse answer in the rhythmic oompa of the brasses
playing a Polish folk-song for the home-comers.
Posted 13 March 2005 - 09:15 AM
So: From the end of "Fulbright Scholars", which is the first poem in Birthday Letters by Ted Hughes.
Was it then I bought a peach? That's as I remember.
From a stall near Charing Cross Station.
It was the first peach I had ever tasted.
I could hardly believe how delicious.
At twenty-five I was dumbfounded afresh
By my ignorance of the simplest things.
Posted 13 March 2005 - 03:53 PM
I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.
I first came across this poem many, many years ago in a 'Children's Treasury' of poems and stories. The first four lines are often quoted, but the rest of the poem is so clearly written from the perspective of a man regretting his past mistakes that I have always wondered what it was doing in a child's anthology!
Posted 13 March 2005 - 07:03 PM
Claire, I'm glad you liked the Sandburg. He doesn't waste his words and does write with a warmth toward the working people of his city.
Megustaleer, I hope there is an other opportunity for 'Cargoes' - I'm particularly fond of the final stanza of that one
Here's the next link, then. The three verses of 'Those Winter Sundays' by Robert Hayden.
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?
Posted 14 March 2005 - 07:45 AM
What passing bells for those who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the rilfles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
Re: Carl Sandeburg. I had never heard of him until a week ago, when i found some of his poems on the 'Poetry Connection's website, while looking for the poem that 'Chardot' is trying to identify. Joining BGO is already paying off!
(Maybe not for Chardot, as no-one has found the poem yet)
Posted 14 March 2005 - 10:21 AM
Tweedledum and Tweedledee
Agreed to have a battle;
For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
Had spoiled his nice new rattle.
Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
As black as a tar-barrel;
Which frightened both the heroes so,
They quite forgot their quarrel.'
From Alice in Wonderland By Lewis Carrol
Posted 14 March 2005 - 02:51 PM
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With Monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms beneath my feet.
Posted 14 March 2005 - 04:01 PM
Posted 14 March 2005 - 10:03 PM
We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows
Posted 15 March 2005 - 08:06 AM
Now back to Lear:
And she said "It's a fact the whole world knows,
That Pobbles are happier without their toes!"
Posted 15 March 2005 - 01:55 PM
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
<A HREF="http://www.ac.wwu.edu/~stephan/webstuff/poetry/Shakespeare-TheSeven.html">The Seven Ages of Man - William Shakespeare</A>
The Hound of the Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle
Assassin's Apprentice, Robin Hobb
Posted 15 March 2005 - 04:09 PM
We have no time to stand and stare.
This is the last verse of 'Leisure' by W.H. Davies
Posted 15 March 2005 - 05:48 PM
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love’s day.
I like the way this thread is making me look up the rest of famous beginnings - like the "All the worlds a stage" bit that Tess quoted. It's never occurred to me to wonder what came after that, before now.
Posted 15 March 2005 - 08:06 PM
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many tower'd Camelot;
The beginning of (of course) The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Posted 15 March 2005 - 08:21 PM
And much said he and I.
'Those breasts are flat and fallen now,
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.'
WB Yeats - Crazy Jane Talks With the Bishop
This thread's a great idea - really challenging, i like it!
0 user(s) are reading this topic
0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users