Poetry

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  • Padraig
    Full Member
    • Feb 2013
    • 4236

    Originally posted by vinteuil View Post
    .

    Padraig - to delete a post :

    . press the 'edit post' button under your text
    . then press 'delete' in the first red bar underneath the text
    . then press the delete button where it says 'delete message'
    . finally press 'delete post' in the bottom red bar

    I think that's it - give it a try!

    .
    I think you're right,v. Thank you.

    Comment

    • johncorrigan
      Full Member
      • Nov 2010
      • 10358

      Originally posted by Padraig View Post
      I think you're right,v. Thank you.
      I hope you'll re-post the poem, Padraig - I found it very moving. I liked the use of Emily's dashes!

      Comment

      • Padraig
        Full Member
        • Feb 2013
        • 4236

        Originally posted by johncorrigan View Post
        I hope you'll re-post the poem, Padraig - I found it very moving. I liked the use of Emily's dashes!
        I did not intend to clear the board, John. I'll get on to it right away. Give me an hour or so!

        Comment

        • Padraig
          Full Member
          • Feb 2013
          • 4236

          Observer 06.06.21

          George 1.8.19 - 1.8.19

          how should we think of you - dear nephew
          except in your entirety
          you were not the small hook of a life
          which didn't latch - nor the spark from a flint
          which didn't ignite - nor the unwanted creature

          smoked out of its burrow
          you were complete and ready
          arriving into the room
          an already past-tense thing - lost before
          you found your way into the ward

          George - I'll tell you
          what you'll never get to know
          we think we're safe - we think ourselves secure
          but life sometimes short-circuits - nature
          comes knocking at the door

          Andrew McMillan

          'Emily's dashes' were necessary to keep the original spacing within the lines of the poem.

          Comment

          • Padraig
            Full Member
            • Feb 2013
            • 4236

            The Unknown Citizen


            (To JS/07 M 378
            This Marble Monument
            Is Erected by the State)

            He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
            One against whom there was no official complaint,
            And all the reports on his conduct agree
            That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
            For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
            Except for the War till the day he retired
            He worked in a factory and never got fired,
            But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
            Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,
            For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
            (Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
            And our Social Psychology workers found
            That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
            The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
            And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
            Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
            And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
            Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
            He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
            And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
            A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
            Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
            That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
            When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.
            He was married and added five children to the population,
            Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
            And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
            Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
            Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

            W. H. Auden - 1907-1973. 1939

            Something I often read here keeps reminding me of this poem, which I thought was very modern and audacious when I first read it in the 50s.

            Comment

            • johncorrigan
              Full Member
              • Nov 2010
              • 10358

              Originally posted by Padraig View Post
              The Unknown Citizen


              When there was peace, he was for peace: when there was war, he went.


              W. H. Auden - 1907-1973. 1939

              Something I often read here keeps reminding me of this poem, which I thought was very modern and audacious when I first read it in the 50s.
              That is a brilliant line in a great poem, Padraig. I must make a point of reading more W.H.Auden.

              Comment

              • Bella Kemp
                Full Member
                • Aug 2014
                • 460

                Thank you Padraig. The more I read of Auden the more I realise how much he helps us to understand.

                Comment

                • Padraig
                  Full Member
                  • Feb 2013
                  • 4236

                  It is late last night the dog was speaking of you



                  This version of the poem Donal Og is the source for shorter versions, as a song, by various artists. You can hear the song on Irish Fridays.

                  Comment

                  • Padraig
                    Full Member
                    • Feb 2013
                    • 4236

                    Whispered At The Church Opening

                    In the bran-new pulpit the bishop stands
                    And gives out his text, as his gaze expands
                    To the people, the aisles, the roof's new frame,
                    And the arches, and ashlar with coloured bands.

                    " Why - he's the man," says one, " who came
                    To preach in my boyhood - a fashion then -
                    In a series of sermons to working- men
                    On week-day evenings, a novelty
                    Which brought better folk to hear and see.
                    They preached each one each week, by request:
                    Some were eloquent speakers, among the best
                    Of the lot being this, as all confessed."

                    " I remember now. And reflection brings
                    Back one in especial, sincerest of all;
                    Whose words, though unpicked, gave the essence of things; -
                    And where is he now, whom I well recall? "

                    " Oh, he'd no touches of tactic skill:
                    His mind ran on charity and good will:
                    He's but as he was, a vicar still."

                    Thomas Hardy from Winter Words 1928

                    Comment

                    • LMcD
                      Full Member
                      • Sep 2017
                      • 8458

                      I must thank the new host of 'Countdown' for reminding me that Philip Larkin was born 99 years ago today.
                      It so happens that my 2 favourite poems are both about trains - one being 'The Whitsun Weddings' and the other 'Adlestrop'.
                      During a recent trip to Yorkshire I took time out to photograph the sculpture of Larkin in Hull Paragon station. A couple of days later somebody had thoughtfully provided him with a mask.
                      I've never quite forgiven Jane Laportaire for Bowdlerizing the poem about parents during a fund-raising evening for a local charity.

                      Comment

                      • jayne lee wilson
                        Banned
                        • Jul 2011
                        • 10711

                        At my mother's funeral in 2018, I asked the celebrant to read "Cut Grass" and "The Trees" by Larkin, in between slow movements from Bach's Brandenburgs...

                        It made a lovely effect, haunting yet soothing, as we contemplated the fields, graves and trees outside....

                        Comment

                        • LMcD
                          Full Member
                          • Sep 2017
                          • 8458

                          Originally posted by jayne lee wilson View Post
                          At my mother's funeral in 2018, I asked the celebrant to read "Cut Grass" and "The Trees" by Larkin, in between slow movements from Bach's Brandenburgs...

                          It made a lovely effect, haunting yet soothing, as we contemplated the fields, graves and trees outside....
                          'The Trees'is indeed a truly beautiful poem, which I always remember as Spring gets under way.
                          I have to confess that a lot of Larkin is far too difficult for me to even attempt to grasp, but some poems, such as 'Church Going', 'Going Going', 'Ambulances', 'An Arundel Tomb' with its memorable last line, and 'MCMXVIII' (have I got that right - it features in 'The History Boys') resonated the first time I read them.
                          (I mentioned Larkin to our tour manager in Yorkshire, and she said, yes, she'd read about the remake of the tv series (by which she meant The Darling Buds of May)

                          Comment

                          • Padraig
                            Full Member
                            • Feb 2013
                            • 4236

                            [QUOTE=LMcD;857472
                            It so happens that my 2 favourite poems are both about trains - one being 'The Whitsun Weddings' and the other 'Adlestrop'.[/QUOTE]

                            One for your collection, McD.

                            Faintheart In A Railway Train

                            At nine in the morning there passed a church,
                            At ten there passed me by the sea,
                            At twelve a town of smoke and smirch
                            At two a forest of oak and birch,
                            And then, on a platform, she:

                            A radiant stranger, who saw not me.
                            I said, " Get out to her do I dare? "
                            But I kept my seat in my search for a plan,
                            And the wheels moved on. O could it but be
                            That I had alighted there!

                            Thomas Hardy from Late Lyrics and Earlier 1922

                            Comment

                            • Ein Heldenleben
                              Full Member
                              • Apr 2014
                              • 6779

                              Originally posted by LMcD View Post
                              'The Trees'is indeed a truly beautiful poem, which I always remember as Spring gets under way.
                              I have to confess that a lot of Larkin is far too difficult for me to even attempt to grasp, but some poems, such as 'Church Going', 'Going Going', 'Ambulances', 'An Arundel Tomb' with its memorable last line, and 'MCMXVIII' (have I got that right - it features in 'The History Boys') resonated the first time I read them.
                              (I mentioned Larkin to our tour manager in Yorkshire, and she said, yes, she'd read about the remake of the tv series (by which she meant The Darling Buds of May)
                              I think it’s MCMXIV - 1914 . If I remember the poem is about innocence and joining up. You’re right all those poems are masterpieces - particularly An Arundel Tomb .

                              Comment

                              • LMcD
                                Full Member
                                • Sep 2017
                                • 8458

                                Originally posted by Padraig View Post
                                One for your collection, McD.

                                Faintheart In A Railway Train

                                At nine in the morning there passed a church,
                                At ten there passed me by the sea,
                                At twelve a town of smoke and smirch
                                At two a forest of oak and birch,
                                And then, on a platform, she:

                                A radiant stranger, who saw not me.
                                I said, " Get out to her do I dare? "
                                But I kept my seat in my search for a plan,
                                And the wheels moved on. O could it but be
                                That I had alighted there!

                                Thomas Hardy from Late Lyrics and Earlier 1922
                                Thank you - I've just purchased Hardy's complete poems for my desktop Kindle so that I can reacquaint myself with them. Another of his railway poems was of course set by Britten - 'Midnight On the Great Western'. I recently read Claire Tomalin's excellent biography of Hardy. I get the impression that she sees him as a poet who also happened to write novels.

                                Comment

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