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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Sponsored by: Poetry Of Robert Frost & California Fireworks Co 
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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mmm, W'onderful idea, that man! - loved the Thos Hood, such clever use of language on the tongue.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore - 26,000 tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconson
As the big freighters go it was bigger than most
With a crew and the Captain well seasoned.
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ships bell rang
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.
The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,
T'was the witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashing
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane West Wind
When supper time came the old cook came on deck
Saying fellows it's too rough to feed ya
At 7PM a main hatchway caved in
He said fellas it's been good to know ya.
The Captain wired in he had water coming in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the words turn the minutes to hours
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the ruins of her ice water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams,
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee
Superior, they say, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.
© 1976 Moose Music, Inc.
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Carpal Tunnel
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OP
Carpal Tunnel
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Posts: 4,189 |
LATE AUTUMN IN VENICE
by Delmore Schwartz
(After Rilke)
The city floats no longer like a bait
To hook the nimble darting summer days.
The glazed and brittle palaces pulsate and radiate
And glitter. Summer’s garden sways,
A heap of marionettes hanging down and dangled,
Leaves tired, torn, turned upside down and strangled:
Until from forest depths, from bony leafless trees
A will wakens: the admiral, lolling long at ease,
Has been commanded, overnight—suddenly—:
In the first dawn, all galleys put to sea!
Waking then in autumn chill, amid the harbor medley,
The fragrance of pitch, pennants aloft, the butt
Of oars, all sails unfurled, the fleet
Awaits the great wind, radiant and deadly.
(C) 1965 by Delmore Schwartz
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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I went for a glorious walk in the sparkling frosty ancient woods of Ty Canol today. Amazed to see many trees still bearing green leaf as well as magical arrays of autumnal colour, it brought to mind sonnet 73. And then as if by some sort of osmosis my dad quoted three words from it this evening when I was chatting with my folks - so (with apologies to Jackie!) here it is, with a subtler play on the pathetic fallacy...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
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addict
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addict
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Gordon Lightfoot - the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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"... when the winds of November come early."
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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whenever I look up from my page
and see a burn-mark of yellow leaves,
I think of the icy winds
that will soon be knifing through my jacket.
excerpt from Billy Collins, poet laureate of NY state and former US pl.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Quote:
"... when the winds of November come early."
"When the winds of November" 127 googlits
"When the gales of November" 14,100 googlits.
Many of the lyrics on line have "Gales of November" in quotation marks, as though it were some sort of catch phrase. But none of them I looked at had "Winds of November."
TEd
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Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
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Yessir, them winds wuz so strong, they wuz gales! The lyrics One learns only with great difficulty not to trust one's memory as it slowly fades away.
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