Feature Poem

I have always admired Sara Teasdale's ability to write so succintly, yet so evocatively, kinda like the principles of what haikuists try to achieve. I grew up reading Teasdale, among the other classical poets, Wordsworth, Shakespeare, Poe; and it's strange how the lady in classical literature is less recognised; goes to show you how anti-feminist it was back then. All the while still, her words are appreciated to this day, "I am not yours" by Sara Teasdale.


"I am not yours"

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.

Sara Teasdale

Haiku

in love again
the moon
seems brighter



candlelit glow
wishing you
goodnight



she love me
she loves me not--
one more petal to pick



love letter
so warm
it curls



autumn light...
in everything
I see

Feature poem

The feature poem today is "I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz" by Pablo Neruda. I'm very excited about someone :-)


I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Across The Stars

'Across The Stars' from the Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones, always manages to make me feel fuzzy inside with teenage love and romance. I'm just taken to this beautiful place full of autumn light, delicate abundance nature, a wash of soft sounds.

For some reason, I was randomly searching YouTube, for the actual song, but came across the piano version, which I liked even more, because it was a variation of the usual MP3 song I had played over and over on the Ipod, CD Player, etc.

Here it is, just beautiful. My favourite version.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0lrbv7i0Dg

Feature Poem

Today's feature poem is 'When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be' by John Keats, this poem was written as Keats was going through a very rough patch in his health, addressing his love for his fair lady, and loss of fame. Keats died a very young age. It speaks for itself. The strongest lines are the two last ones for me, they resonate well, so sad, but expresses it well.


When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love!—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till Love and Fame to Nothingness do sink.

Check this out! Highly Commended in the Ipswich Poetry Feast and Winner of the Edwards Property Mentorship Award:



http://www.ipswichpoetryfeast.com.au/2011/winnerslocal_3.htm#hc2

(if only this could form into a hyperlink- stupid Blogspot)

a grudge
finally broken--
the ocean turns from grey to blue

Bushwalk Haiku

Oh, what the hey, it was fun posting that last... post. So, why not, i'll share some more. Recently I went bushwalking with my very good friend, Glenn (teacher & poet also) and had an absolute blast of a time. Here's some haiku of the trip:


bush fly
the distant humming
of the highway


lookout point
we share
its silence


driving for miles
we vent
our road rage


broken twig
how quick
this wild peacock


a new shrub
every kilometer
a memory