What an interesting choice of poems. Written in honor of her late aunt, I think it is a message of hope and love, that we always look after our family. . . also, an interesting metaphor of Emily Dickinson's belief in a loving Divinity.
What an interesting choice of poems. Written in honor of her late aunt, I think it is a message of hope and love, that we always look after our family. . . also, an interesting metaphor of Emily Dickinson's belief in a loving Divinity.
Thank you.
M
I'm glad you liked that poem Michael.
Another one of a different hue:
I fear a Man of frugal Speech --
I fear a Silent Man --
Haranguer -- I can overtake --
Or Babbler -- entertain --
But He who weigheth -- While the Rest --
Expend their furthest pound --
Of this Man -- I am wary --
I fear that He is Grand --
I just used the filtering device to block a person who created much disharmony. It feels like a termination of that party, an odd, unsettling feeling. Not death, but denial.
***
SAFE in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,—
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.
Hello Michael, I am sorry for your espouse. I am divorced and I am open to marriage too. If you want knowing about me, you can ask Captain Avatar, he knows me well. He is mostly in SETI, Cafe Seti.
Not!
Beware!
Be afraid Very Very Afraid!
If you need an Avatar, I'll create one for you!
Captain.Avatar-[at]-Gmail.com
Thank you for your sage advice. I have folled it and sometime ago, terminated all direct communication with the offending party and today, having learned how to filter participants, have done so as well. Your warning and concern is appreciated.
SPRING is upon us (I write whilst the cold rain falls)
SPRING when a human's fancy turns to (baseball?) me thinks:
I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?
II.
Round and round, like a dance of snow
In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go
Floating the women faded for ages,
Sculptured in stone, on the poet's pages.
Then follow women fresh and gay,
Living and loving and loved to-day.
Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens,
Beauties yet unborn. And all, to one cadence,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
III.
Dear rose, thy term is reached,
Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached:
Bees pass it unimpeached.
IV.
Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb,
You, great shapes of the antique time!
How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you,
Break my heart at your feet to please you?
Oh, to possess and be possessed!
Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast!
Once but of love, the poesy, the passion,
Drink but once and die!---In vain, the same fashion,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
V.
Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed,
Thy cup is ruby-rimmed,
Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed.
VI.
Deep, as drops from a statue's plinth
The bee sucked in by the hyacinth,
So will I bury me while burning,
Quench like him at a plunge my yearning,
Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips!
Fold me fast where the cincture slips,
Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure,
Girdle me for once! But no---the old measure,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
VII.
Dear rose without a thorn,
Thy bud's the babe unborn:
First streak of a new morn.
VIII.
Wings, lend wings for the cold, the clear!
What is far conquers what is near.
Roses will bloom nor want beholders,
Sprung from the dust where our flesh moulders.
What shall arrive with the cycle's change?
A novel grace and a beauty strange.
I will make an Eve, be the artist that began her,
Shaped her to his mind!---Alas! in like manner
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
What an interesting choice of
)
What an interesting choice of poems. Written in honor of her late aunt, I think it is a message of hope and love, that we always look after our family. . . also, an interesting metaphor of Emily Dickinson's belief in a loving Divinity.
Thank you.
M
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
"ONE blessing had I, than the
)
"ONE blessing had I, than the rest
So larger to my eyes
That I stopped gauging, satisfied,
For this enchanted size.
It was the limit of my dream,
The focus of my prayer,—
A perfect, paralyzing bliss
Contented as despair.
I knew no more of want or cold,
Phantasms both become,
For this new value in the soul,
Supremest earthly sum.
The heaven below the heaven above
Obscured with ruddier hue.
Life’s latitude leant over-full;
The judgment perished, too.
Why joys so scantily disburse,
Why Paradise defer,
Why floods are served to us in bowls,—
I speculate no more."
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
Forgot the post
)
Forgot the post script:
"Everything that I understand, I understand only because I love."
Leo Tolstoy
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
RE: What an interesting
)
I'm glad you liked that poem Michael.
Another one of a different hue:
I fear a Man of frugal Speech --
I fear a Silent Man --
Haranguer -- I can overtake --
Or Babbler -- entertain --
But He who weigheth -- While the Rest --
Expend their furthest pound --
Of this Man -- I am wary --
I fear that He is Grand --
Thank you! I loved the poem.
)
Thank you! I loved the poem. Abraham Lincoln, in contrast wrote:
"It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool that speak and remove all doubt!"
Alas, too often, I fear, I remove all doubt.
M
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
Hev: An old refrain: IT
)
Hev:
An old refrain:
IT ’S all I have to bring to-day,
This, and my heart beside,
This, and my heart, and all the fields,
And all the meadows wide.
Be sure you count, should I forget,—
Some one the sun could tell,—
This, and my heart, and all the bees
Which in the clover dwell.
* * * * * * *
M
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
I just used the filtering
)
I just used the filtering device to block a person who created much disharmony. It feels like a termination of that party, an odd, unsettling feeling. Not death, but denial.
***
SAFE in their alabaster chambers,
Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,—
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.
***
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
RE: Hello Michael, I am
)
Not!
Beware!
Be afraid Very Very Afraid!
If you need an Avatar, I'll create one for you!
Captain.Avatar-[at]-Gmail.com
Captain: Thank you for
)
Captain:
Thank you for your sage advice. I have folled it and sometime ago, terminated all direct communication with the offending party and today, having learned how to filter participants, have done so as well. Your warning and concern is appreciated.
Michael
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi
SPRING is upon us (I write
)
SPRING is upon us (I write whilst the cold rain falls)
SPRING when a human's fancy turns to (baseball?) me thinks:
I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?
II.
Round and round, like a dance of snow
In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go
Floating the women faded for ages,
Sculptured in stone, on the poet's pages.
Then follow women fresh and gay,
Living and loving and loved to-day.
Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens,
Beauties yet unborn. And all, to one cadence,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
III.
Dear rose, thy term is reached,
Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached:
Bees pass it unimpeached.
IV.
Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb,
You, great shapes of the antique time!
How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you,
Break my heart at your feet to please you?
Oh, to possess and be possessed!
Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast!
Once but of love, the poesy, the passion,
Drink but once and die!---In vain, the same fashion,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
V.
Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed,
Thy cup is ruby-rimmed,
Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed.
VI.
Deep, as drops from a statue's plinth
The bee sucked in by the hyacinth,
So will I bury me while burning,
Quench like him at a plunge my yearning,
Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips!
Fold me fast where the cincture slips,
Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure,
Girdle me for once! But no---the old measure,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
VII.
Dear rose without a thorn,
Thy bud's the babe unborn:
First streak of a new morn.
VIII.
Wings, lend wings for the cold, the clear!
What is far conquers what is near.
Roses will bloom nor want beholders,
Sprung from the dust where our flesh moulders.
What shall arrive with the cycle's change?
A novel grace and a beauty strange.
I will make an Eve, be the artist that began her,
Shaped her to his mind!---Alas! in like manner
They circle their rose on my rose tree.
"We must be the change we wish to see."
Mahatma Gandhi