Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the tag “poems”

Poet Appreciation: #4 George Santayana


Quick–what teacher did Conrad Aiken, T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost, and Wallace Stevens have in common? *Jeopardy muzak plays softly* If you answered George Santayana you either are a verse warrior or you clued in on the post title.

Santayana, a Spanish-born American, was a philosopher, essayist, novelist, teacher, and poet. Receiving his PhD from Harvard he joined the faculty in 1889. In 1912 he moved to Europe and must have liked it because he never returned to the states. Santayana, thought to be an important influences of critical realism, became part of what is known as the Classical American Philosophy. He died in 1952.

 
 There may be chaos still around the world
by George Santayana
 
There may be chaos still around the world,
This little world that in my thinking lies;
For mine own bosom is the paradise
Where all my life’s fair visions are unfurled.
Within my nature’s shell I slumber curled,
Unmindful of the changing outer skies,
Where now, perchance, some new-born Eros flies,
Or some old Cronos from his throne is hurled.
I heed them not; or if the subtle night
Haunt me with deities I never saw,
I soon mine eyelid’s drowsy curtain draw
To hide their myriad faces from my sight.
They threat in vain; the whirlwind cannot awe
A happy snow-flake dancing in the flaw.
Unless I am way off base, I think this is the complex version of Bobby McFerrin’s hit ditty “Don’t Worry. Be Happy.” I hear in this poem how the world can be swirling and whirling about us, yet we can cocoon within ourselves and remain blissfully at peace.  I prefer the happy llama mode: humming along in life.

Marching into April’s Muse


It’s lovely that spring has basically sprung. There is no subtlety of seasons in my neck of the States.  One weekend eight inches floated down with the grace of a freight train, causing school to shut down (oh goodness was I bummed). The next the rain came in, melting all that amassed snowflakiness and suddenly I’m owner of lakefront property. I hope the assessor doesn’t drive by.

One of the nicer aspects of March of how it promenades in so roaringly, only to meekly usher in April and all her flowers.  Mixed in flowers are sunny days, longer days, taxes *cough*, and while these are sporadic occurrences of sweet sorrow (unless you like taxes), it’s an celebrating poetry.

Yes, this is a heads up that April is National Poetry Month.  This year I arranged a guest poet to appear about every other post. In between the celebrity verse readings there will be poetical bits like forms, clips, and images.  Ooh, I can’t wait. I’ve been working on April since last December.

Until April and the official start-up, here are some links to help you prepare:

Got questions about National Poetry Month?

Looking for ways to celebrate NPP?

Poet-to-Poet Project

And one of my absolute favorites: Poem-in-your-Pocket Day

Walt Whitman graces the poster this year. Find absolutely tons of great poetry info at http://www.poets.org.

See you around the corner!

A Garden of Verses


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As children we begin our acquaintance with poetry through nursery rhymes and catchy little verse books and move up to reading by way of Dr. Seuss. If the love of poetry takes hold. Then we discover there is a world of rhyme through the pens of such poets as Jack Prelutsky (shown happily proffering his poetry pencil). And of course, Shel Silverstein.

Robert Louis Stevenson and Lewis Carroll come to mind for when we are older. And then what? We are told “good” poetry shouldn’t rhyme and rhyming verse is childish. We then go deep into the likes of Robert Frost, Longfellow, and perhaps Langston Hughes when we get into school. This is not a bad thing. Not at all. Life gets more complicated as we get older and poetry can be that reflection.

I wonder if this is where we lose the initial love of poetry, when we have to work at understanding it through its symbolism, imagery, and meter. Cats and fiddles, Jacks and Jills no longer suffice as poetry thrills. Tis a shame.
My freshmen groan and revolt when I trot out the poetry unit. I wish I could say I have swayed their opinions or created new converts at the end of the designated nine weeks, yet that doesn’t happen as often as I’d like. Most do appreciate poetry a bit more. Sure, that works for me–I’ll take it.

I wonder how many of us would continue loving poetry if we could only be allowed more Jack Prelutsky when we are all grown up.
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Poem Delivery Service


http://www.poets.org/poemADay.php

Wading through countless updates, newsletters, and ads can be annoying, if not time consuing.  Yet I signed up for one more inbox filler, and I am finding it not a nuisance, rather it’s a shot of morning freshness: I signed up for Poets.org Poem-A-Day. Granted it’s only my third day; however, it makes me stop and reflect on the power of verse, plus I get to discover new poets. 

During the week it’s contemporary and the weekends it’s classics. Definitely a perfect blend. So click on the opening link and wake up to the fragrance of verse delivered fresh daily.

Happy Poetry Month!

 

 

No Fooling It’s National Poetry Month


Although it’s April 1st, which means pranks, jokes, and teasing can occur, I am serious in my endeavor to post something poetical everyday in recognition of it being National Poetry Month. Be forewarned, prepared, and whatever measures you might have in mind as I bombard my blogging with a preponderance of verse, imagery, and meter.

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