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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
Well, we haven't had a poetry thread in awhile (hi Jazzo!), and the fall provides some good themes for digging up material...Halloween, foliage...spooky, colorful...and all the nuances in between...I'll kick it off with this classic of childhood fright:
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE
by James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)
INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION
To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.
Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
.. An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
.... Ef you
...... Don't
........ Watch
.......... Out!
Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers, --
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout: --
.. An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
.... Ef you
...... Don't
........ Watch
.......... Out!
An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
.. An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
.... Ef you
...... Don't
........ Watch
.......... Out!
An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away, --
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
.. Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
.... Ef you
...... Don't
........ Watch
.......... Out!
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
Hurry, hurry, little fingers, let me be the first to quote a poem by Poe...Hurry.
THE CONQUEROR WORM
~ Edgar Allan Poe (1843)
Lo! 'tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly-
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Woe!
That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
Ode to Autumn
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, 5
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease; 10
For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; 15
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook; 20
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day 25
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river-sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; 30
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
John Keats
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Joined: Jul 2002
Posts: 742
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Jul 2002
Posts: 742 |
I could go all archaic on y'all, but since I ain't no fan of cuckoo song , I'll settle for a work often attributed to a modern Irish bard:
Spring is sprung, the grass is riz
I wonder where the birdies is?
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Joined: Apr 2000
Posts: 10,542
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Apr 2000
Posts: 10,542 |
>Spring is sprung...
tis like beatin' yer head agin the wall, ain't it?!
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Joined: Jul 2002
Posts: 742
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Jul 2002
Posts: 742 |
>tis like beatin' yer head agin the wall, ain't it?!
Waaay more fun, and now a custom. What would the change of seasons be without a diatribe on hemispherism? 8^)
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Joined: Jan 2001
Posts: 1,156
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Jan 2001
Posts: 1,156 |
I've always wondered - did you (sjm or CK or any other antipodean) have to study English (as in Britain) poems in school? And did you get all confused - or at least offended - when you read things like "May, sweet May" or poems about flowers in April or the loveliness of June? (Although from what I gather your winters may not be as wintry as those I know.)
I personally always found those confusing for a different reason, mostly because spring happens much later (and winter much earlier) where I come from. April is really nothing to scream about, for example - cold and muddy and not at all poem-worthy. And reading poems about brilliant fall colours is funny on the Prairies, where there are no maple trees and thus none of the brilliant reds that the rest of the country raves about, and puts on the flag.
Anyway, I'd love to read some antipodean poetry extolling the wonders of say, daffodils in September (if you have daffodils there), or hot December days, or the chills of late June, that sort of thing.
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Joined: Oct 2000
Posts: 1,346
veteran
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veteran
Joined: Oct 2000
Posts: 1,346 |
daffodils in September..or hot December days, or the chills of late JuneReally good point, Bean. A nice challenge to hemispherist preconceptions. OTOH what do we care about sinister denizens of the underworld? 
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Joined: Oct 2000
Posts: 1,346
veteran
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veteran
Joined: Oct 2000
Posts: 1,346 |
Forever AutumnThe summer sun is fading as the year grows old, And darker days are drawing near, The winter winds will be much colder, Now you're not here. I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky, And one by one they disappear, I wish that I was flying with them, Now you're not here. Like the sun through the trees you came to love me, Like a leaf on the breeze you blew away. Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way, You always loved this time of year, Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now, 'cause you're not here, 'cause you're not here, 'cause you're not here. Like the sun through the trees you came to love me, Like a leaf on the breeze you blew away. A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes, As if to hide a lonely tear, My life will be Forever Autumn, 'cause you're not here, 'cause you're not here, 'cause you're not here. 
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Joined: Jul 2000
Posts: 3,467
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Jul 2000
Posts: 3,467 |
I know where the birdies is --
They're eatin' all my radishis.
(A TEd original)
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