' Live-Poets Society ' – A Corner For Poetry

[AC Benus]

1 hour ago, Parker Owens said:

What a lovely poem. I love the connection to birds and migration; and to love, of course. It does feel like the late 18th century verse I have in an old crumbling book at home...

I take it Ayres was a contemporary of Milton's; I know into which gentleman's work I'd rather dip

 

Edited June 26, 2019 by AC Benus

[AC Benus]

Today I posted the new Poetry Prompt on Blank Verse. I have a few examples in it by noted American poet Horace Gregory. Here is one from him in a different style. 

 

The Aquatic Gardens: Washington, D.C. 

 

There is a stirring of grey light overhead -- 

These are the Water Gardens, green paths

That walk between the waters, and the white lotus

Where at its center the sun shines inward

To the root. And here are sleeping lilies,

And that grey presence of a fallen tree

Raising its lifeless arms 

Above the water. 

 

                             Pale green, pale ochre -- 

Here one discovers five seasons of the soul: 

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, and the season 

Of light where the spirit lives, 

Tibet at evening or at early morning

In the grey light that cannot fall

From the sky at noon. It is where 

Reeds and grasses contemplate 

The heavens, the multiple smiling 

Creatures within the clouds,

The gods and lesser gods behind 

A veil of rain. 

 

                      One could believe 

That the heat of summer is unknown here,

That the white lotus conceals the sun

Beneath the snow. 

 

                               Above us a steel blade 

Turns, spins, flashes into the sky;

It is a war plane. We do not escape 

The thought of war, the memory of earth,

Yet the fifth season is awake,

Lives now and after death. 

                                     Horace Gregory     

 

[Mikiesboy]

3 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Here one discovers five seasons of the soul: 

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, and the season 

Of light where the spirit lives, 

Tibet at evening or at early morning

This i find fascinating.  It's a wonderful poem but wow,  i really like that .. the five seasons of the soul.

[MacGreg]

On 7/2/2019 at 5:45 PM, AC Benus said:

Today I posted the new Poetry Prompt on Blank Verse. I have a few examples in it by noted American poet Horace Gregory. Here is one from him in a different style. 

 

The Aquatic Gardens: Washington, D.C. 

 

There is a stirring of grey light overhead -- 

These are the Water Gardens, green paths

That walk between the waters, and the white lotus

Where at its center the sun shines inward

To the root. And here are sleeping lilies,

And that grey presence of a fallen tree

Raising its lifeless arms 

Above the water. 

 

                             Pale green, pale ochre -- 

Here one discovers five seasons of the soul: 

Spring, summer, autumn, winter, and the season 

Of light where the spirit lives, 

Tibet at evening or at early morning

In the grey light that cannot fall

From the sky at noon. It is where 

Reeds and grasses contemplate 

The heavens, the multiple smiling 

Creatures within the clouds,

The gods and lesser gods behind 

A veil of rain. 

 

                      One could believe 

That the heat of summer is unknown here,

That the white lotus conceals the sun

Beneath the snow. 

 

                               Above us a steel blade 

Turns, spins, flashes into the sky;

It is a war plane. We do not escape 

The thought of war, the memory of earth,

Yet the fifth season is awake,

Lives now and after death. 

                                     Horace Gregory     

 

I may be late to reading this, but it is far worth the wait. I've read it a few times now. Each time, I get a different feeling. One is viewing the world from the perspective of nature and the vitality and richness that can never be tarnished by man's warmongering. Another is using a metaphor to describe the complex human condition and man's struggle to find connection and meaning in life. The introduction of the fifth sense is fascinating - man's connection to the greater universe which transcends his mortal time on Earth.

Besides all of that, I love the flow of the unconstrained stanzas. I think I will like Blank Verse!

Thank you for bringing this to my attention, AC.

[Black Paper]

Hello, everyone! I just thought I’d share this little poem I just wrote with you all about how important Patience is! Sorry, I have not been around the last few weeks. I have been a bit busy. Thank you!🍷

 

Patience

Slow & Steady wins the race.
You don’t need to run all over the place.
You don’t need to hurry.
You don’t need to worry.
In order to grow, flowers take time.
Never forget this intuitive rhyme.
Do the work that, only, makes sense.
Never forget this sentence.
Never forget to have Patience.

[Parker Owens]

3 minutes ago, Black Paper said:

Hello, everyone! I just thought I’d share this little poem I just wrote with you all about how important Patience is! Sorry, I have not been around the last few weeks. I have been a bit busy. Thank you!🍷

 

Patience

Slow & Steady wins the race.
You don’t need to run all over the place.
You don’t need to hurry.
You don’t need to worry.
In order to grow, flowers take time.
Never forget this intuitive rhyme.
Do the work that, only, makes sense.
Never forget this sentence.
Never forget to have Patience.

This is a very nice object lesson kind of piece. You keep it elegant and simple.

[AC Benus]

I like this a lot - I think everyone should check it out

https://gayauthors.org/story/cynus/musingsofamongoose/12

 

[Defiance19]

First email I opened this morning.. thought I’d share.  This should take you to a short author bio...

 

With Good Humor
by Thom Gunn
Issue no. 24 (Summer–Fall 1960)

 

New face, strange face, for my unrest.
I hunt your look, and lust marks time
Dark in his doubtful uniform,
Preparing once more for the test.

You do not know you are observed:
Apart, contained, you wait on chance,
Or seem to, till your callous glance
Meets mine, as callous and reserved.

And as it does we recognize
That sharing an anticipation
Amounts to a collaboration—
A warm game for a warmer prize.

Yet when I’ve had you once or twice
I may not want you any more:
A single night is plenty for
Every magnanimous device.

Why should that matter? Why pretend
Love must accompany erection?
This is a momentary affection,
A curiosity bound to end.

Which as good-humored muscle may
Against the muscle try its strength
—Exhausted into sleep at length—
And will not last long into day

[AC Benus]

1 hour ago, Defiance19 said:

First email I opened this morning.. thought I’d share.  This should take you to a short author bio...

 

With Good Humor
by Thom Gunn
Issue no. 24 (Summer–Fall 1960)

 

New face, strange face, for my unrest.
I hunt your look, and lust marks time
Dark in his doubtful uniform,
Preparing once more for the test.

You do not know you are observed:
Apart, contained, you wait on chance,
Or seem to, till your callous glance
Meets mine, as callous and reserved.

And as it does we recognize
That sharing an anticipation
Amounts to a collaboration—
A warm game for a warmer prize.

Yet when I’ve had you once or twice
I may not want you any more:
A single night is plenty for
Every magnanimous device.

Why should that matter? Why pretend
Love must accompany erection?
This is a momentary affection,
A curiosity bound to end.

Which as good-humored muscle may
Against the muscle try its strength
—Exhausted into sleep at length—
And will not last long into day

Thanks for posting this, Def. I have to say, the poem as a portrait of an H-word at the time (told by "doctors" that they cannot ever find love, and will lead a wasted life bouncing from one shameful encounter to a another) made me very sad. So, I am very glad you included the interview with Gunn, which mentions he met his partner in college and they stayed together their whole lives. Such knowledge make this poem then a satire of the "Unhappy H-word," which was so prevalent at the time.  

Knowing he taught at Berkeley, I wonder if he moved in the same circles as another Gay Bay Area poet, Jack Spicer. I hope so; they would have been quite a pair to have at the same dinner table 😅

Thanks for posting this again. Live Poets has seemed a bit forlorn these days...nice to see some activity here 

 

Edited August 29, 2019 by AC Benus

[Defiance19]

20 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

So, I am very glad you included the interview with Gunn, which mentions he met his partner in college and they stayed together their whole lives. Such knowledge make this poem then a satire of the "Unhappy H-word," which was so prevalent at the time.  

There was another link which referenced his friendship with Oliver Sacks, who remained closeted until late in his life. Sacks would have been representative of the “Unhappy H-word.”

There was a part of the interview where it mentions Sacks’ irritation with Gunn, because Gunn was more at ease with his sexuality, a thing that was at the time causing Sacks much grief. 

[AC Benus]

2 hours ago, Defiance19 said:

There was another link which referenced his friendship with Oliver Sacks, who remained closeted until late in his life. Sacks would have been representative of the “Unhappy H-word.”

There was a part of the interview where it mentions Sacks’ irritation with Gunn, because Gunn was more at ease with his sexuality, a thing that was at the time causing Sacks much grief. 

I have Sacks' autobiography here, but I have not delved too deep. I did read this sexy scene with a biker "roommate" of his who always requested the doctor's rubdowns with happy endings. Yes, it's always been a Gay ole world out there, even back in the -50s, hehe

edit: this scene is memorable not so much for the sex, but for how much Sacks really liked the guy and hoped their relationship would go someplace. It didn't, with the biker bud disavowing any "H-word tenancies" when Sacks came out to him.   

Edited August 29, 2019 by AC Benus

[Mikiesboy]

I am not a very good poet ... but i am trying. It doesn't help that i don't really know a lot of things especially about English and grammar.  However, i hope to learn, albeit slowly and late in the day.

I posted my reply for AC's Poetry prompt: Quatrains.

I learned that i need to use transitional words more. I looked that up and found this site which was helpful: Smartwords.org

Hope that others find this helpful.

 

Edited September 3, 2019 by Mikiesboy

[AC Benus]

3 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

I am not a very good poet ... but i am trying. It doesn't help that i don't really know a lot of things especially about English and grammar.  However, i hope to learn, albeit slowly and late in the day.

I posted my reply for AC's Poetry prompt: Quatrains.

I learned that i need to use transitional words more. I looked that up and found this site which was helpful: Smartwords.org

Hope that others find this helpful.

 

We all feel at various times and for various reasons inadequate. That's part of being human. But, please trust me when I tell you, it is your command of the English language that first drew me to the quality of your writing. You don't need to feel deficient in this department, and we all need to be open to receiving new knowledge. Lord knows, doing my Hans translation project, he's opened me up to several new words and terms (in English!) I had no notion existed. It's all a learning experience

And thank you for sticking with the Quatrains project. I think the high quality of the results speak for themselves!  

[Mikiesboy]

7 hours ago, AC Benus said:

We all feel at various times and for various reasons inadequate. That's part of being human. But, please trust me when I tell you, it is your command of the English language that first drew me to the quality of your writing. You don't need to feel deficient in this department, and we all need to be open to receiving new knowledge. Lord knows, doing my Hans translation project, he's opened me up to several new words and terms (in English!) I had no notion existed. It's all a learning experience

And thank you for sticking with the Quatrains project. I think the high quality of the results speak for themselves!  

You're an excellent teacher, AC.  You really are. i appreciate all you do for me.  xo

[Parker Owens]

A small skyscraper for today:

I cringe at

my interior noise;

the cacophony of my existence -

ringing ears, wheezing lungs, bones clacking in their joints -

but I would not trade this Gamelan

of age's infirmities

for silence.

[AC Benus]

17 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

A small skyscraper for today:

I cringe at

my interior noise;

the cacophony of my existence -

ringing ears, wheezing lungs, bones clacking in their joints -

but I would not trade this Gamelan

of age's infirmities

for silence.

Brilliant, Parker

[Mikiesboy]

Hallo???    This place is dusty and unused... we need to change that!   Where have all the poets gone?  All the sharing and talk?

Here are a couple of amusing poems to make us smile a bit....

 

The lobster and the crab one day
Proposed a friendly race.
Agreed upon the time were they,
Agreed upon the place.

The start and finish lines were where
The two thought they should be.
The crayfish with a clock was there
To act as referee.

And though the rule-book then was read,
Not all was clarified;
For as the lobster forward sped
The crab crab went to the side.

By Jeffrey Krise

 

Few suspect my double life, ‘twould make a dandy thriller.
My poker face does not reflect the fact that I’m a killer.
I’m not your average murderess — deceptive nomenclature.
My victims are botanical. (They’re of a plant-like nature.)

My methods are diversified but always I’m discreet.
I subtly assassinate each struggling sprout I meet.
Drowning often does them in but then sometimes it’s drought.
Frequently it’s too much shade that snuffs their young lives out.

Begonias are my favorite prey. They never live to tell.
Impatiens die before their time. I guess it’s just as well.
So never leave your plants with me – this message I implore —
Or else your healthy Wandering Jew won’t wander any more.

By Lois Corcoran

 

 

Edited September 13, 2019 by Mikiesboy

[AC Benus]

3 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

Hallo???    This place is dusty and unused... we need to change that!   Where have all the poets gone?  All the sharing and talk?

Here are a couple of amusing poems to make us smile a bit....

 

The lobster and the crab one day
Proposed a friendly race.
Agreed upon the time were they,
Agreed upon the place.

The start and finish lines were where
The two thought they should be.
The crayfish with a clock was there
To act as referee.

And though the rule-book then was read,
Not all was clarified;
For as the lobster forward sped
The crab crab went to the side.

By Jeffrey Krise

 

Few suspect my double life, ‘twould make a dandy thriller.
My poker face does not reflect the fact that I’m a killer.
I’m not your average murderess — deceptive nomenclature.
My victims are botanical. (They’re of a plant-like nature.)

My methods are diversified but always I’m discreet.
I subtly assassinate each struggling sprout I meet.
Drowning often does them in but then sometimes it’s drought.
Frequently it’s too much shade that snuffs their young lives out.

Begonias are my favorite prey. They never live to tell.
Impatiens die before their time. I guess it’s just as well.
So never leave your plants with me – this message I implore —
Or else your healthy Wandering Jew won’t wander any more.

By Lois Corcoran

 

 

Love them! I can see the crustaceans all ready to go, although they are literal fish out of water. The poet is very cheeky for daring to use the word "clarified"....although the term's deliciously chosen

As for the plant-killer...there ought to be a law, hehe

 

[Parker Owens]

Thank you @Mikiesboy  for these two wonderful poems! Their lively metre and tone are just what I needed today. Each of these appealed to me and I’m so grateful you posted them. 

[Mikiesboy]

5 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

Thank you @Mikiesboy  for these two wonderful poems! Their lively metre and tone are just what I needed today. Each of these appealed to me and I’m so grateful you posted them. 

We often write such serious stuff ... well i do. Something lighthearted was fun!

[Black Paper]

STOP POSTING IN HERE AND HAVING A PARTY WITHOUT ME BETCH. lol ill post something too. One moment 🤘🔥😏🎩🍷

Edited September 13, 2019 by Black Paper

[Black Paper]

The Gift

These things that you've gotten,

Without love feel rotten.

They are like jewels drenched in oil. Instead of coming from soil.

They are drenched. They are suffocated.

This is why they are hated!

They spiritually do nothing at all.

As you hold them, they fall.

It is like sand in your hand slipping through your fingers.

It is only a matter of time, before their joy no longer lingers.

Ughh! They're so annoying!

Yeah, you have a bunch of stuff.

But, it never feels that you have enough.

Why?

Because, you are not doing what spiritually satisfies you.

That is why it never gratifies you.

You are being artificial.

This is why they are not special.

Don't pretend.

And, it will end.

Remember, always do things intuitively.

And, only then, will you live freely.

Only then, will you breathe the fresh, clean air,

While receiving a gift and no longer despair.

You will no longer feel as though you are half dieing,

Because, your spirit is no longer lying.

Edited September 13, 2019 by Black Paper

[AC Benus]

8 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

Hallo???    This place is dusty and unused... we need to change that!   Where have all the poets gone?  All the sharing and talk?

Here are a couple of amusing poems to make us smile a bit....

 

The lobster and the crab one day
Proposed a friendly race.
Agreed upon the time were they,
Agreed upon the place.

The start and finish lines were where
The two thought they should be.
The crayfish with a clock was there
To act as referee.

And though the rule-book then was read,
Not all was clarified;
For as the lobster forward sped
The crab crab went to the side.

By Jeffrey Krise

 

Few suspect my double life, ‘twould make a dandy thriller.
My poker face does not reflect the fact that I’m a killer.
I’m not your average murderess — deceptive nomenclature.
My victims are botanical. (They’re of a plant-like nature.)

My methods are diversified but always I’m discreet.
I subtly assassinate each struggling sprout I meet.
Drowning often does them in but then sometimes it’s drought.
Frequently it’s too much shade that snuffs their young lives out.

Begonias are my favorite prey. They never live to tell.
Impatiens die before their time. I guess it’s just as well.
So never leave your plants with me – this message I implore —
Or else your healthy Wandering Jew won’t wander any more.

By Lois Corcoran

 

 

Let's get together and play a game. Since I'm kicking it off, I'm not eligible to play the first round, which is fine by me.

But how the game works is: We all go searching for poems to post here that take after the themes or phrases above. The Round One winner will be determined by the number of comments their postings get. 

For example, if I were playing this round, the plant name "Wandering Jew" makes me think of this:

 

Hearts and Bones 

One and one-half wandering Jews,
Free to wander wherever they choose,
Are traveling together
In the Sangre de Christo --
The Blood of Christ Mountains --
Of New Mexico,
On the last leg of a journey
They started a long time ago;
The arc of a love affair,
Rainbows in the high desert air,
Mountain passes slipping into stone.

Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones.

 

Thinking back to the season before;
Looking back through the cracks in the door;
Two people were married,
The act was outrageous,
The bride was contagious,
She burned like a bride.
These events may have had some effect
On the man with the girl by his side;
The arc of a love affair,
His hands rolling down her hair.
Love like lightning, shaking till it moans.

Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones.

 

And whoa whoa, whoa
She said, “Why? --
Why don’t we drive through the night?
We’ll wake up down in
Mexico.”

Oh, oh, oh, I
"I don’t know nothin’ about, nothin’ no
Mexico. And tell me why
Why won’t you love me
For who I am
Where I am?”

She said, “Cause that’s not the way the world is, baby,
This is how I love you, baby.
This is how I love you, baby.

 

One and one-half wandering Jews
Returned to their natural coasts,
To resume old acquaintances,
And step out occasionally,
And speculate who had been damaged the most.
Easy time will determine if these consolations
Will be their reward;
The arc of a love affair,

 

Waiting to be restored.
You take two bodies and you twirl them into one,
Their hearts and their bones,
And they won’t come undone.

Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones
Hearts and bones.

Paul Simon

 

https://www.paulsimon.com/track/hearts-and-bones/

 

 

[Mikiesboy]

9 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Hearts and bones

Sounds like fun ...

[Mikiesboy]

This one mentions begonia and death ...

 

Glory of Garden

Mist veil in haze, winter unwraps,
A rejoice raptures in reverie of spring. 
Amber gold touch of Midas perhaps,
Bees and frilled petals in amorous cling.

A mystical harmony of beauty serene,
Magnolia and tulip, hum for butterfly.
Honeysuckle vines, squirrels in between,
Yellows and purple, rose cheeks feel shy.

Like peacocks bloom, begonia and pansy
Palettes of color, lush in vibrant green
Perfumed breeze...cadence lily in daisy
Petunia with marigold, in rollick are seen.

On canvas of soil, lyric paints a picture,
Sprouting prose...to poetry and sonnet.
Sowing seeds of love, Man nurtures Nature
In pride of his sweat, plants glitter on it.

The harvest of hoe, conjures a treasure 
In Glory of Garden, life is born to grow.
Landscape of spring, is short-lived pleasure
Maxim of death,.. in summer.., do they know?

 

Debjani Mitra