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AND he's from Oregon. {} (Which proves my point: David Hasselhoff needs to move to Oregon.) ;>

Imagine...

Charlie Clevenger, Shawnee Forest Road


Every writer's no good, least happy, over-anxious, worst part of the day

But then...
there's this.
Miss you, Mr. Carver.

HAPPINESS
by Raymond Carver

So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.

When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.

They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren't saying anything, these boys.

I think if they could, they would take
each other's arm.
It's early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.

They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.

Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn't enter into this.

Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

Raymond Carver (1933-1988)

-Pamela, Come Saturday morning happiness to all of you, with dreams of uncovering visions of joy every day of my life

by Laura Nyman Montenegro FSG 2007 When young Natalie releases her Chirpee bird from its cage it immediately flies to a nearby tree. A phone call brings a group of poets to help her lure her bird out of a tree. The poets in turn try different things to lure the bird down from the tree: They plant seeds and bushes, install a birdbath, tie bright string into the branches but nothing seems to

Yay! It’s Poetry Friday and I get to share another one of my favorite poems. I’ve always loved anything by Edna St. Vincent Millay and today I’m sharing one of her poems. Eel Grass is short, simple and says so much. It’s just beautiful.

Today the Round-up is here.

Eel-grass

NO matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie on the beach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

It is the last Friday of July (that happened too quickly) and, therefore, we are proud to present The Buffalo Poets. Kicking things off today is David Acevedo. Read. Ponder. Comment.

(more…)

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Wildly Romantic: The English Romantic Poets: The Mad, The Bad, And The Dangerous by Catherine M. Andronik. Reviewed from ARC; source: ALA Midwinter 2007.

The Plot: Ah, some of the original bad boys. The revolutionary who became Mr Conservative; the drug addict, brilliant, who constantly disappointed; the man who inspired the infamous "mad, bad, and dangerous to know;" the free love, fire-starting, bigamist; and the guy with the talent from the "wrong side of the tracks" who just as it looked like he could have it all -- got TB and died.

The Good: Andronik does a wonderful job of introducing us to William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and John Keats, weaving mini biographies of individuals against the broader story of England in the early 1800s. She explains how these five not only lived lives that were far from boring; but how poetry influenced them and how they influenced poetry. As a teen, I loved Shelley; in college, it was Byron; and now, after reading this, John Keats is the man.

This is a great sampler, of both the poets and their poetry; it's for older readers, because Andronik doesn't shy away from such topics as illegitimate children, incest, and drugs. About the only thing missing is rock'n'roll... and wow, these men and their groupies would have given any present day musician a run for their money. It's like Almost Famous: The 1800s version.

And yes, respect is given to the sisters, wives and daughters, who may not be as famous (well, except for that book about that monster....) but were also talented and bright.

So, a Poetry Friday sampler for you:

Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
by William Wordsworth

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;--
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose;
The moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare;
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.

The rest of the poem is at Poets.org.

****

Kubla Khan Or a Vision in a Dream. A Fragment
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

The rest of the poem is at Poets.org.

*******

She Walks in Beauty by George Gordon, Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

******

Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle—
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdain'd its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea—
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?

and finally

Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats

....
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die, 55
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.
....
The full poem is at Bartelby.com.

Links:
Today's Poetry Friday round up can be found by clicking the button, above, or going to The Simple & The Ordinary.

propernoun.net book review

I have good news and bad news. The good news is we have another wonderful poem from King Otho. The bad is that it is the end of National Poetry Month. Perhaps we can all include more poetry in our lives (and this blog) throughout the year and not just during Poetry Month. Enjoy!

Needed Someone

by King Otho

Grams drams
whiskey sans
the heart its power
the fruit its
bless this congregation of
bones and meat cells
breaker breaker
one nine
I got lipids parting
I can see the amino acids
STOP
Fluid druid solemn molecule
don’t ask
it’s in it that it is in
WHAT!!
What was that he just said?
About the whiskey?
And the handcuffs?
Oh no my dear, you see
this is the new model.
There’ll be hardly any clogging
no noticable seams
All for three times the original price
and don’t forget the mail in rebate
NO NO NONONONO NO
It’s the shoestrings
that’s how you can tell
Mexican labor don’t know
how to tie a shoe up like
the Vietnamese
Paulo is a tobacco roller.
The dark steamy Cuban wherehouse
filled with rolled Rrrrrr’s and
Dickens Classics.
They read to them down there.
Sitting on shiny cars
moist brown wrinkles under
white athletic undershirt.
And nothing you smoke weighs
under three pounds.
Senor, he thought it was
manditory fields
The Russians promised
Vodka.
The economy of the people
is folded hechos
No no Elsie
It was three butters crisp
ten doiley placemats
two trinkerdoons
And a handfull of hard candy.
The eyebrows are the hardest part,
but if you’re carefull
they can be sprayed on.
Your expression can be chosen from
our handy sample book.
Simply apply the cardboard spraymask
and a new look, in seconds!
A straight beats a flush
how many L’s in legally?
Two trains leave Miami
Moving in opposite directions
How long till the
End of Time?
If you flattened out the
facts curled up in your
lungs,
they would cover a
tennis court.

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Below is a thought provoking article by Buffalo Poet David Acevedo. Be sure to check back next week for more great content from these artists.

By David Acevedo
Attendant Huo asked Te Shan “Where have all the sages since antiquity gone?” Te Shan asks, “What? How’s that?” Huo said “The order was for a flying dragon-horse, but a lame tortoise shows up”. Te Shan let it rest. (more…)

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