last poem
like the last bitter taste
deep within my throat
building into
a bulb
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Saturday, 31 January 2015
Thursday, 29 January 2015
Saturday, 24 January 2015
Thursday, 22 January 2015
Day 22
i met a poet once
of spiral stairs
and gothic windows
the architecture
of his magic
swayed me
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Saturday, 10 January 2015
Monday, 5 January 2015
Day 1
the new year dawns
in spires and
gothic architectures, while
on the roads,
black ice lies
slick
Tuesday, 29 April 2014
Y... is for Yeats
You will LOVE this poem. Enjoy!
Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
*****************************************************Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
This is the twenty-fifth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration, Ode, Papillion(ed), Quatrain, Romanticism, Shakespeare, Tone, University, Victorian Literature, Wilde's Wit, Xenophobia
Friday, 25 April 2014
V... is for Victorian Literature
I spoke of the lofty thoughts and ideals of Romanticism earlier. This period was followed by the reign of Queen Victoria in Britain, from 1838 to 1901 and this period produced some very significant literary works that I'm required to study. While poetry was the most important form with the Romantics, the novel, as we now know it, became the leading literary genre in the Victorian times. Some of the noteworthy novelists of this period include Dickens, Eliot, the Bronte sisters, and Hardy. There were some great poets too - Browning, Yeats, and Tennyson.
From wiki, I have, "Victorian novels tend to be idealised portraits of difficult lives in which hard work, perseverance, love and luck win out in the end; virtue would be rewarded and wrongdoers are suitably punished. They tended to be of an improving nature with a central moral lesson at heart. While this formula was the basis for much of earlier Victorian fiction, the situation became more complex as the century progressed. There was a struggle to conquer the flaws of human beings with great virtues. It was a principle that those who struggle to attain morality would most probably achieve positive results in the end if not tortured by natural circumstances or evil vices."
Though this period produced a vast array of works, their common themes made them cluster together as the kind of things the reader at the time wished to read. My personal favourite is Dickens, I have read all of his novels barring a couple, and there is something about the way he writes that draws me to the novels.
*****************************************************From wiki, I have, "Victorian novels tend to be idealised portraits of difficult lives in which hard work, perseverance, love and luck win out in the end; virtue would be rewarded and wrongdoers are suitably punished. They tended to be of an improving nature with a central moral lesson at heart. While this formula was the basis for much of earlier Victorian fiction, the situation became more complex as the century progressed. There was a struggle to conquer the flaws of human beings with great virtues. It was a principle that those who struggle to attain morality would most probably achieve positive results in the end if not tortured by natural circumstances or evil vices."
Though this period produced a vast array of works, their common themes made them cluster together as the kind of things the reader at the time wished to read. My personal favourite is Dickens, I have read all of his novels barring a couple, and there is something about the way he writes that draws me to the novels.
This is the twenty-second post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration, Ode, Papillion(ed), Quatrain, Romanticism, Shakespeare, Tone, University
Monday, 21 April 2014
R... is for Romanticism
What an immensely rich body of work the Romanticism movement gave us. The 18th century poets, dramatists, theatre-artists, playwrights, authors, everyone gave us a tremendous plethora of intrigue, love, hate, awe, insanity... it was also a revolt against the aristocratic social and political norms of the Age of Enlightenment and a reaction against the scientific rationalization of nature.
It became important to feel fully and well, and to express this feeling in no uncertain terms. Lofty thoughts and ideals formed the pillar of this movement, both uplifting and humbling, all at the same time. Thought was secondary to emotion, and it was this emotion that took precedence over all else. It gave us beautiful things.
Some of the most noted Romantics include William Blake, Byron, Coleridge, Keats, Mary Shelley, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Robert Southey, Wordsworth. Just Imagine!
*****************************************************It became important to feel fully and well, and to express this feeling in no uncertain terms. Lofty thoughts and ideals formed the pillar of this movement, both uplifting and humbling, all at the same time. Thought was secondary to emotion, and it was this emotion that took precedence over all else. It gave us beautiful things.
Some of the most noted Romantics include William Blake, Byron, Coleridge, Keats, Mary Shelley, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Robert Southey, Wordsworth. Just Imagine!
This is the eighteenth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration, Ode, Papillion(ed), Quatrain
Saturday, 19 April 2014
Q... is for Quatrain
A quatrain is a type of stanza, or a complete poem, consisting of four lines. One of the quatrains I had to study was the heroic stanza or elegiac stanza (iambic pentameter, rhyming ABAB or AABB; from Thomas Gray's "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard")
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
From Wikipedia, I found that "The Ruba'i form of rhymed quatrain was favored by Omar Khayyám, among others. This work was a major inspiration for Edward FitzGerald's Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, written in Persian. The ruba'i was a particularly widespread verse form: the form rubaiyat reflects the plural."
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.
*****************************************************
This is the seventeenth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
From Wikipedia, I found that "The Ruba'i form of rhymed quatrain was favored by Omar Khayyám, among others. This work was a major inspiration for Edward FitzGerald's Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, written in Persian. The ruba'i was a particularly widespread verse form: the form rubaiyat reflects the plural."
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.
*****************************************************
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration, Ode, Papillion(ed)
Friday, 18 April 2014
P... is for Papillion(ed)
A Post from 23/08/2010
On Friday evenings, the parking lot and the place where the buses are parked are a battle zone. People, having put in more hours of work during the week than they’d like to, are always rushing pell-mell as if this is the last weekend they’ll ever get to live. It is almost amusing, how they barely glance at the people to who they wave goodbye every other day of the week.
Everyone’s got something else or the other on their minds. Last Friday, however, a very faith-filled thing happened. There was a man walking towards the buses in front of me. I didn’t notice him until he slowed down, veered off-course and stooped to pick something up.
It was a dying butterfly, the symbol of frailty. It was a tiny quivering mass in his large palm. The man then proceeded to slowly meander through the umpteen people, diagonally cutting through the parking lot (yes, I followed him) and placed the butterfly on the rain-drenched grass under a white-flowered tree. Fitting, I’d say, for something so beautiful. No one else noticed, no one stopped to save a dying butterfly from being trampled upon.
We have become too busy these days. But that butterfly did well to be found by him, and he was made a better man by that act. I get to hold on to faith. Kudos to the butterfly-man!
*****************************************************On Friday evenings, the parking lot and the place where the buses are parked are a battle zone. People, having put in more hours of work during the week than they’d like to, are always rushing pell-mell as if this is the last weekend they’ll ever get to live. It is almost amusing, how they barely glance at the people to who they wave goodbye every other day of the week.
Everyone’s got something else or the other on their minds. Last Friday, however, a very faith-filled thing happened. There was a man walking towards the buses in front of me. I didn’t notice him until he slowed down, veered off-course and stooped to pick something up.
It was a dying butterfly, the symbol of frailty. It was a tiny quivering mass in his large palm. The man then proceeded to slowly meander through the umpteen people, diagonally cutting through the parking lot (yes, I followed him) and placed the butterfly on the rain-drenched grass under a white-flowered tree. Fitting, I’d say, for something so beautiful. No one else noticed, no one stopped to save a dying butterfly from being trampled upon.
We have become too busy these days. But that butterfly did well to be found by him, and he was made a better man by that act. I get to hold on to faith. Kudos to the butterfly-man!
This is the sixteenth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration, Ode
Thursday, 17 April 2014
O... is for Ode
Poems that are dedicated to things and people and love are so beautiful, aren't they? They fill me with joy and a deeper understanding of the things we often miss...
From Ode to Autumn, these lines
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
*****************************************************From Ode to Autumn, these lines
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
This is the fifteenth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language, Metaphysical Poetry, Narration
Tuesday, 15 April 2014
M... is for Metaphysical Poets
One of my biggest takeaways from this course is the knowledge of Metaphysical poets and their poetry. According to Wikipedia, "The metaphysical poets is a term coined by the poet and critic Samuel Johnson to describe a loose group of English lyric poets of the 17th century, whose work was characterized by the inventive use of conceits, and by speculation about topics such as love or religion. These poets were not formally affiliated; most of them did not even know each other or read each others work."
How amazing it is to imagine that there have been times when one's work would not have been inspired by another. I, for my part, cannot quite fathom how one creates a genre, how one starts to write without a precedent. John Donne, George Herbert, Henry Vaughan, Andrew Marvell, and Richard Crashaw were the centrepieces of this kind of poetry. Making love could be the bite of a flea, the soul could be a drop of dew and such other metaphors seem blasphemous even today, let alone in the 17th century. Back then, these parallels would be unheard of! I'll leave you with a few lines of Donne's 'Elegy XVIII: Love’s Progress':
Her swelling lips; to which when we are come,
We anchor there, and think ourselves at home,
For they seem all: there sirens’ songs, and there
Wise Delphic oracles do fill the ear;
There in a creek where chosen pearls do swell,
The remora, her cleaving tongue doth dwell.
These, and the glorious promontory, her chin
O’erpast; and the strait Hellespont between
The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts,
(Not of two lovers, but two loves the nests)
Succeeds a boundless sea, but that thine eye
Some island moles may scattered there descry;
And sailing towards her India, in that way
Shall at her fair Atlantic navel stay;
Though thence the current be thy pilot made,
Yet ere thou be where thou wouldst be embayed,
Thou shalt upon another forest set,
Where some do shipwreck, and no further get.
When thou art there, consider what this chase
Misspent by thy beginning at the face.
Thoughts ;) ?
*****************************************************How amazing it is to imagine that there have been times when one's work would not have been inspired by another. I, for my part, cannot quite fathom how one creates a genre, how one starts to write without a precedent. John Donne, George Herbert, Henry Vaughan, Andrew Marvell, and Richard Crashaw were the centrepieces of this kind of poetry. Making love could be the bite of a flea, the soul could be a drop of dew and such other metaphors seem blasphemous even today, let alone in the 17th century. Back then, these parallels would be unheard of! I'll leave you with a few lines of Donne's 'Elegy XVIII: Love’s Progress':
Her swelling lips; to which when we are come,
We anchor there, and think ourselves at home,
For they seem all: there sirens’ songs, and there
Wise Delphic oracles do fill the ear;
There in a creek where chosen pearls do swell,
The remora, her cleaving tongue doth dwell.
These, and the glorious promontory, her chin
O’erpast; and the strait Hellespont between
The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts,
(Not of two lovers, but two loves the nests)
Succeeds a boundless sea, but that thine eye
Some island moles may scattered there descry;
And sailing towards her India, in that way
Shall at her fair Atlantic navel stay;
Though thence the current be thy pilot made,
Yet ere thou be where thou wouldst be embayed,
Thou shalt upon another forest set,
Where some do shipwreck, and no further get.
When thou art there, consider what this chase
Misspent by thy beginning at the face.
Thoughts ;) ?
This is the thirteenth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling, Keats, Language
Saturday, 12 April 2014
K... is for Keats
I don't have much for K, but I'll leave you with a poem by Keats.
*****************************************************
A Galloway Song
Ah! ken ye what I met the day
Out oure the Mountains
A coming down by craggi[e]s grey
An mossie fountains --
A[h] goud hair'd Marie yeve I pray
Ane minute's guessing --
For that I met upon the way
Is past expressing.
As I stood where a rocky brig
A torrent crosses
I spied upon a misty rig
A troup o' Horses --
And as they trotted down the glen
I sped to meet them
To see if I might know the Men
To stop and greet them.
First Willie on his sleek mare came
At canting gallop --
His long hair rustled like a flame
On board a shallop.
Then came his brother Rab and then
Young Peggy's Mither
And Peggy too -- adown the glen
They went togither --
I saw her wrappit in her hood
Fra wind and raining --
Her cheek was flush wi' timid blood
'Twixt growth and waning --
She turn'd her dazed head full oft
For there her Brithers
Came riding with her Bridegroom soft
And mony ithers.
Young Tam came up an' eyed me quick
With reddened cheek --
Braw Tam was daffed like a chick --
He coud na speak --
Ah Marie they are all gane hame
Through blustering weather
An' every heart is full on flame
Ah! Marie they are all gone hame
Fra happy wedding,
Whilst I -- Ah is it not a shame?
Sad tears am shedding.
**********************************************************************************************************
A Galloway Song
Ah! ken ye what I met the day
Out oure the Mountains
A coming down by craggi[e]s grey
An mossie fountains --
A[h] goud hair'd Marie yeve I pray
Ane minute's guessing --
For that I met upon the way
Is past expressing.
As I stood where a rocky brig
A torrent crosses
I spied upon a misty rig
A troup o' Horses --
And as they trotted down the glen
I sped to meet them
To see if I might know the Men
To stop and greet them.
First Willie on his sleek mare came
At canting gallop --
His long hair rustled like a flame
On board a shallop.
Then came his brother Rab and then
Young Peggy's Mither
And Peggy too -- adown the glen
They went togither --
I saw her wrappit in her hood
Fra wind and raining --
Her cheek was flush wi' timid blood
'Twixt growth and waning --
She turn'd her dazed head full oft
For there her Brithers
Came riding with her Bridegroom soft
And mony ithers.
Young Tam came up an' eyed me quick
With reddened cheek --
Braw Tam was daffed like a chick --
He coud na speak --
Ah Marie they are all gane hame
Through blustering weather
An' every heart is full on flame
Ah! Marie they are all gone hame
Fra happy wedding,
Whilst I -- Ah is it not a shame?
Sad tears am shedding.
This is the eleventh post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh, Faust, Gothic Fiction, Humour, Interpretation, Journalling
Monday, 7 April 2014
F... is for Faust
About three years ago, I went to the Delhi World Book Fair with no TBR list. I walked around with no aim, picking up books that caught my fancy, ones that I'd heard were good, ones that looked like they'd be good etc. Good times... and I was earning at the time, so I splurged! One of the books that I bought and later read was Faust by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. I knew that it had something to do with Satan, and I really liked the name of the author.
I wasn't disappointed. Faust is the tale of a very learned young scholar, who sells his soul to the Devil and makes a pact with his advocate for years and years of power. In the degree that I'm currently studying towards, I'm required to read The Tragic History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, same plot. Both texts I have thoroughly enjoyed. There is something truly wonderful and sinister about making a pact with the Devil himself, and I really think that each one of us should be put through that test. No, I'm not religious, but I do like the symbolism of it. And I thoroughly believe that all the so-called enlightened will fail the test.
Anyway, you must read one or both of these works about Faust, they are filled with intrigue and excitement. I have loved the characters and dark dark plot. As one would expect, the ending is tragic. Goethe's Faust is also filled with beautiful and lyrical poetry and is an excellent mix of prose and poetry, great for those who aren't comfortable with a body of work that is complete poetry, like Milton's Paradise Lost.
*****************************************************I wasn't disappointed. Faust is the tale of a very learned young scholar, who sells his soul to the Devil and makes a pact with his advocate for years and years of power. In the degree that I'm currently studying towards, I'm required to read The Tragic History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, same plot. Both texts I have thoroughly enjoyed. There is something truly wonderful and sinister about making a pact with the Devil himself, and I really think that each one of us should be put through that test. No, I'm not religious, but I do like the symbolism of it. And I thoroughly believe that all the so-called enlightened will fail the test.
Anyway, you must read one or both of these works about Faust, they are filled with intrigue and excitement. I have loved the characters and dark dark plot. As one would expect, the ending is tragic. Goethe's Faust is also filled with beautiful and lyrical poetry and is an excellent mix of prose and poetry, great for those who aren't comfortable with a body of work that is complete poetry, like Milton's Paradise Lost.
This is the sixth post for the April A-to-Z Blogging Challenge 2014.
Previously, Archaism, British literature, Critical Analysis, Drama, Edinburgh
Saturday, 19 October 2013
*Massive NEWS*
So, the background being that Book Week Scotland (25 November to 1 December 2013) is about celebrating books and reading in every part of life in Scotland.More than 330,000 free books will be given away during the Book Week Scotland campaign this year, including 150,000 free copies of a new short story and poem collection celebrating the most treasured possessions of various Scots.
"Treasures" is a free book for all of Scotland to share, celebrating the nation’s most loved possessions. Aaaaaaand, my piece is in it. And, one of the eight book covers doing the rounds of Scotland -Tada! I am going to be in 150,000 books and on the cover of like 37,000!
"Treasures" is a free book for all of Scotland to share, celebrating the nation’s most loved possessions. Aaaaaaand, my piece is in it. And, one of the eight book covers doing the rounds of Scotland -Tada! I am going to be in 150,000 books and on the cover of like 37,000!
More info here:
http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/reading/book-week-scotland/about
http://www.publishingscotland.org/news/book-week-scotland-2013/
Pick up a copy if you're in Scotland; what can I say, one more reason to be here!
*skipping around with stupid grin on face*
Friday, 14 June 2013
Sunday, 26 May 2013
Travels
Walk with me on empty streets,
Teach me how to be the rain...
Taken on the High Street, Fort William, Highlands, Scotland
Friday, 3 May 2013
Reflecting on the A-to-Z Challenge
I have had a very productive April. I had a long Easter break from University and I spent it travelling, reading, and writing. Well done I say! This is the reason why my posts for this year's challenge were a lot better than last year's. My theme for this year was Scotland!
I gave you posts about travel, music, experiences, life, literature, science, language, history, architecture, food... I think I did well. Scotland has much to offer and being a teeny wee country, no one notices it. Scotland is Edinburgh and Glasgow, yes, but it is so so much more.
To all the 700 people who visited, Thank You. To those who left kind comments, you are appreciated more than you know. And those who are on my reading list now, we'll keep in touch, eh!
To those who survived the challenge, thanks for all the jazz people, you are awesome!
I will leave you with some fabulous resources for travelling to Scotland. If at any point, you decide to come, and need any info... drop me a line and I will be happy to help. I truly love this place. I hope I never have to leave!
VisitScotland
Historic Scotland
BBC Scotland
TravelScotland
Visit Highlands
Hostelling Scotland
and of course, there's Lonely Planet, TripAdvisor, Wikipedia, and Facebook!
Much love and the very best of wishes to you all.
May the wee folk sprinkle you with faery dust!
I gave you posts about travel, music, experiences, life, literature, science, language, history, architecture, food... I think I did well. Scotland has much to offer and being a teeny wee country, no one notices it. Scotland is Edinburgh and Glasgow, yes, but it is so so much more.
To all the 700 people who visited, Thank You. To those who left kind comments, you are appreciated more than you know. And those who are on my reading list now, we'll keep in touch, eh!
To those who survived the challenge, thanks for all the jazz people, you are awesome!
I will leave you with some fabulous resources for travelling to Scotland. If at any point, you decide to come, and need any info... drop me a line and I will be happy to help. I truly love this place. I hope I never have to leave!
VisitScotland
Historic Scotland
BBC Scotland
TravelScotland
Visit Highlands
Hostelling Scotland
and of course, there's Lonely Planet, TripAdvisor, Wikipedia, and Facebook!
Much love and the very best of wishes to you all.
May the wee folk sprinkle you with faery dust!
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