Today's poet

[freckle]

thanks hes, she seems to be on the mend thankfully! good to hear you have been racing again today, bet you feel relieved to be back...

i was driving today and heard a bit of poetry please on radio 4...someone read "cradlesong for elaneour 2 by louis macneice which i really enjoyed.. here is another one of his...


Entirely

If we could get the hang of it entirely
It would take too long;
All we know is the splash of words in passing
And falling twigs of song,

And when we eavesdrop on the great
Presences it is rarely
That by a stroke of luck we can appropriate
Even a phrase entirely.

If we could find our happiness entirely
In somebody else’s arms
We should not fear the spears of spring nor the city’s
Yammering fire alarms

But, as it is, the spears each year go through
Our flesh and almost hourly
Bell or siren banishes the blue
Eyes of love entirely.

And if the world were black and white entirely
And all the charts were plain
Instead of a mad weir of tigerish waters,
A prism of delight and pain,
We might be surer where we wished to go
Or again we might be merely
Bored but in brute reality there is no
Road that is right entirely.

[freckle]

Cradlesong for Eleanor
Louis Macneice

Sleep, my darling, sleep;
The pity of it all
Is all we compass if
We watch disaster fall.
Put off your twenty-odd
Encumbered years and creep
Into the only heaven,
The robbers' cave of sleep.

The wild grass will whisper,
Lights of passing cars
Will streak across your dreams
And fumble at the stars;
Life will tap the window
Only too soon again,
Life will have her answer-
Do not ask her when.

When the winsome bubble
Shivers, when the bough
Breaks, will be the moment
But not here or now.
Sleep and, asleep, forget
The watchers on the wall
Awake all night who know
The pity of it all.

[Hes]

Gorgeous poem choice Freckle! Perfect for bed time.

Cradlesong for Eleanor
Louis Macneice

Sleep, my darling, sleep;
The pity of it all
Is all we compass if
We watch disaster fall.
Put off your twenty-odd
Encumbered years and creep
Into the only heaven,
The robbers' cave of sleep.

The wild grass will whisper,
Lights of passing cars
Will streak across your dreams
And fumble at the stars;
Life will tap the window
Only too soon again,
Life will have her answer-
Do not ask her when.

When the winsome bubble
Shivers, when the bough
Breaks, will be the moment
But not here or now.
Sleep and, asleep, forget
The watchers on the wall
Awake all night who know
The pity of it all.

[Hes]

The Sea

It is a human sharing in the rhythm of the sea
and the moon
and animal breeding
and the stars.
Ernesto Cardenal, 'Love'

Helpless her hands lose hold, slip away.
As though night hides an undertow
which lifts her warm weight on its arm.
Along the dark she drifts
out of sight—
A solid sea-wall divides the surf
from the shore splashed with rocks.

When the man wades out to find her
the moon pulls up its anchor.
It slides free of the tide—
The hull of his soul sails on
the sky, his body is a buoy
in the black seams of the waves.
A drunken crew dances on the deck.

In sleep we float far apart. Voyage
in different dreams that wreck
in the wind. And fear
death in the deep bed. Then swim
toward land. Birdsong. The blue scent
of wild lilac. Suddenly here we stand
on the stones of consciousness, shining, short of breath—

George Keithley

[freckle]

The Sea

It is a human sharing in the rhythm of the sea
and the moon
and animal breeding
and the stars.
Ernesto Cardenal, 'Love'

Helpless her hands lose hold, slip away.
As though night hides an undertow
which lifts her warm weight on its arm.
Along the dark she drifts
out of sight—
A solid sea-wall divides the surf
from the shore splashed with rocks.

When the man wades out to find her
the moon pulls up its anchor.
It slides free of the tide—
The hull of his soul sails on
the sky, his body is a buoy
in the black seams of the waves.
A drunken crew dances on the deck.

In sleep we float far apart. Voyage
in different dreams that wreck
in the wind. And fear
death in the deep bed. Then swim
toward land. Birdsong. The blue scent
of wild lilac. Suddenly here we stand
on the stones of consciousness, shining, short of breath—

George Keithley

This is beautiful Hes, particularly the idea of drifting of in each others seperate wrecks to be joined again on waking...its not often I recall my dreams but last night I had an anxious one and was pretty relieved to wake up! certainly did feel like i was a bit lost on a ship wreck (in a manner of speaking) ! never mind, tonight is my friday so here's to a more relaxing evening!

[freckle]

its all in the journey...apparently...and who knows if you will find what you set out to, perhaps you won't...but perhaps that doesn't matter...

Ithaka by Constantine P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

[Mountain Goatess]

Pleasure is everything
Give in to happiness
Reject propriety
Embrace variety
Prudence is sooo 1658
Life is fleeting
Clasp it hard with both hands
Seek delight
Trust your impulses
Ordinary is pointless
Break free

[Alf]

Pleasure is everything
Give in to happiness
Reject propriety
Embrace variety
Prudence is sooo 1658
Life is fleeting
Clasp it hard with both hands
Seek delight
Trust your impulses
Ordinary is pointless
Break free

You can't beat a bit of hedonism now and then MG

[Alf]

its all in the journey...apparently...and who knows if you will find what you set out to, perhaps you won't...but perhaps that doesn't matter...

Ithaka by Constantine P. Cavafy

As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them:
you'll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you're seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind-
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won't have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you'll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

I haven't read this one for a while freckle. Often the journey is much better than the arrival

[Alf]

The Sea

It is a human sharing in the rhythm of the sea
and the moon
and animal breeding
and the stars.
Ernesto Cardenal, 'Love'

Helpless her hands lose hold, slip away.
As though night hides an undertow
which lifts her warm weight on its arm.
Along the dark she drifts
out of sight—
A solid sea-wall divides the surf
from the shore splashed with rocks.

When the man wades out to find her
the moon pulls up its anchor.
It slides free of the tide—
The hull of his soul sails on
the sky, his body is a buoy
in the black seams of the waves.
A drunken crew dances on the deck.

In sleep we float far apart. Voyage
in different dreams that wreck
in the wind. And fear
death in the deep bed. Then swim
toward land. Birdsong. The blue scent
of wild lilac. Suddenly here we stand
on the stones of consciousness, shining, short of breath—

George Keithley

This is an excellent poem Hes. I like the bit about her hands losing hold. That release of control is very difficult and dreams are the only place we really experience it.