A Shropshire Morning
Title: A Shropshire Lad
Author: A.E. Housman
Publisher: Penguin (Classics)
Genre: Poetry (English Journeys)
I know I just posted on this very same title yesterday, but I’ve been reading through it over my morning coffee on this cold, rainy day, and I couldn’t keep myself from sharing the best parts.
| A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896. |
| XLVIII. Be still, my soul, be still |
This melted me to my core. Melted me into a state of beautiful stillness, and I couldn’t keep that to myself. It’s so calming, so true, and so utterly gorgeous.
Not just for his poetry itself, Housman is inspiring because his work is so good and back in 1896 he was essentially self-published. Publishers turned this beautiful work down over and over again until finally he decided to publish the title at his own expense. Originally he wanted to call it The Poems of Terrence Hearsay, but was encouraged to change it. Sales lagged until about 1899 when the Second Boer War broke out and profits have surged for Housman’s work during every time of war since – especially World War I. Though this surprised the poet, it is not surprising to me… the entire work is about loss. There is much solace in reading about loss when you have lost or anticipate it soon.
Don’t be surprised if Housman is revisited often on this blog.
Shropshire Lasses (and dog)
Title:A Shropshire Lad
Author: A.E. Housman
Publisher: Penguin (Classics)
Genre: Poetry (English Journeys)
A few years ago I became completely hooked on the Penguin Great Ideas series. I think they’re wonderful pocket sized source documents to keep around the house. I also love the Great Journeys… and now, I have a small collection of English Journeys as well.
The kiddo and I love scampering through the woods. We also love reading outside. These little paperbacks are the perfect books to tag along for our wooded adventures and frolics in the park.
Not to mention that, today, I think Housman became my favorite male poet – a title previously held by William Carlos Williams. The two are nothing alike. But I am nothing like who I was when William Carlos Williams was awarded his place on my mental pedestal.
Where William Carlos Williams amused me with “This is Just to Say”:
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the iceboxand which
you were probably
saving
for breakfastForgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
I was in middle school when I discovered this. For some reason I found this bluntness endearing. I thought, “What a wonderful jerk to address poetry with such sarcasm.”
I don’t want poetry to be sarcastic anymore. I don’t appreciate the uncaring witticism the same way.
I do, however, love this:
Oh, when I was in love with you,
Then I was clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave.And now the fancy passes by,
And nothing will remain,
And miles around they’ll say that I
Am quite myself again– “A Shropshire Lad: XVIII”
Ok, well, it seems it’s always the jerk lines that appeal to me. But at least it’s not about stealing plums anymore. Housman has real heart and soul as he describes landscapes and lovers, crickets and dead soldiers, the woods and the very real feelings of longing for something that has gone. All so beautiful and natural; and the pattern in which he writes lends itself to easily reading it aloud outdoors while the kiddo plays.
The dog seemed to enjoy it too. He stopped to look at me every time a poem ended as though I was denying him the chance to be included in the written word of humans.
Poetry and Paint
Title:The Road Not Taken and Other Poems
Author: Robert Frost
Publisher: Dover Thrift Edition
Genre: Poetry
I have a hard time reading poetry silently. When I’m reading it in my mind, my eyes tend to skip over the words like stones on water.
But aloud – that’s a different story.
Nothing calms us faster in my house (the kiddo and I) than poetry, painting, and a little Alt-J in the background. I don’t know how I survived sadness and melancholy before Alt-J was a part of my world.
The latest masterpiece – age 3.
This week we read through a Dover Thrift Edition of Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken and Other Poems. Like most people, kiddo will probably be far more familiar with The Road Less Taken than any of Frost’s other poetry. We don’t just read it out loud when we paint, but out on the trails in the woods too. Poetry is appropriate for painting, Frost is great while tromping on leaves. He just has a woodsy feel to him.
Starting a new piece during a poetry day.
Whispers for the Soul
Title: Whispers in the Dark
Poets: Ashley Nemer, Stacy Moran, Torie N. James
Genre: Poetry
A Product of The Art of Safkhet
A Guest Review by Angelina JoiAnn
As I was reading Whispers of the Heart by Ashley Nemer I felt depressed at the beginning by reading words like cry, darkness, kill, and beat. The first poem “They Say” gave me hope with “angel, strength and spirit.” I did not understand why “I walk and feel wetness” is in the “Darkness” poem – I am guessing it is raining, but to me darkness is not wet. Rain is more of a cleansing – a way to feel alive – not isolated. The the depression goes into a vampire and human relationship with “Forever you are mine” and “Immortal Love.” I can picture a vampire saying/writing those words after biting a human. I kind of get the darkness feeling going into the Vampire poems but after that I get thrown off with memories, dog, and grandpa.
While reading Whispers in the Storm by Stacy A. Moran I felt like the section would have been more aptly named Whispers of the Soul. It felt like the poet was writing poems from different growths of her soul, and perhaps had even lost a child. The poetry seemed to speak from a child to a woman, from a woman to a mother and so on. I would have liked to see them organized from love to heart break, but I felt a lot of growth over all and really enjoyed this section.
Whispering Flames by Torie N. James has to be my favorite. I felt like a phoenix flying out of the fire. I felt free while reading the different poems – as though the weight of the first two sections were being lifted off my shoulders.
Overall, I was taken on different feelings and journeys throughout the book and felt the different aspects and growth from the souls of the writers. I did feel that each section had a weird, random organization, and that the poems could have been better placed within each author’s portions, but that’s just my OCD. I enjoyed peeking into each poet’s lives.
October 2013 Events
ALSO, Don’t forget to check the Good Books in the Woods Event Page… That place has some nifty stuff going on this month too. http://www.goodbooksinthewoods.com/news/
Where the Windwalk Begins
Title: Where the Windwalk Begins
Poet: Todd Dillard
Illustrator: Paul K. Tunis
Too cute. These poems are ideal for lazy breakfast reading or luncheons on the patio. We love to read over our meals and kiddo has really enjoyed Where the Windwalk Begins.
I personally loved Airlephant, mostly because I have a ridiculously large soft spot in my soul for all things regarding elephants. Kiddo’s ears perked up the most, however for Flock of Flying Carpets, which I admit is pretty awesome. The alliteration of that particular poem fascinates little people, and her eyes lit up with delight at hearing the same sounds over and over again. We’ve been working on our phonics lately and you could see the recognition of certain letter’s sounds all over her face.
The poems are really fun and the illustrations are equally so. I was pleased with how well paired the illustrator was to the over all vibe of the book. Sometimes you can have a great illustrator and a really great storyteller or poet, but they don’t necessarily make the best pairing, but these two seemed pretty in tune to each other. Spunky and very light heart-ed, moms and dads everywhere should keep this title in their personal library stock.
A Life With Poetry
Title: God’s Love
Author: Calvert Tynes
Genre: Poetry/ Religion
Let me premise by saying I don’t review a lot of poetry. I actually didn’t read a lot of poetry outside of what was required of me for school and pieces my friends wrote until my daughter was born. It was then, rocking a sleepy baby back and forth in a glider, that I really started to enjoy the genre in its full capacity. Kiddo and I spent a whole year reading Edna St. Vincent Millay and it was very comforting.
Calvert Tynes is not comforting. He’s raw, but not in a crass way or anything. Tynes’ poetry has very few soft rhythms, instead I imagine his work being best presented in person in a performance setting. There are a few kids at the Poetry Nights in Humble that could read some of these pieces and rock an audience’s socks off with them… I’m not so talented and my kid asked me to hush when I tried to read this to her. So though my kiddo didn’t much care for the book, she’s two and there are some things she just doesn’t have a say in right now, whether or not Calvert Tynes is a good poet is one of them.
God’s Love is indeed a testament to the love Tynes has found in Christ, but from where I’m sitting it reads more like a memoir than a spiritual guide. I’m probably biased in saying this, as I’ve never been a fan of things with pictures of Jesus on them… probably a narcissistic issue after the emotional damage of drawing the worst stick figure of Jesus ever on my leather bible when I was seven and getting in a lot of trouble over it; I wasn’t upset I was in trouble so much as I was upset that my mother couldn’t tell that my stick figure was my portrayal of Christ. But still, knowing what I know about the crucifixion it seems a little grotesque to immortalize the moment in graven images. For that reason, I was a little turned off by the front cover, although a lot of people I know would find it beautiful – it’s just me and I get that. Tynes may have turned me off with the cover, but he won me over with his poems.
I particularly liked I See You, Love and Theodora. Nope, I’m not going to print them here, you have to buy the book for that! But I will share my favorite quote from I See You, Love:
“If your love was land, then I am its sea,/because your love exemplifies/ the completion of me.”
Of course I adore the sappiest line in the whole book… of course.
I also adore how God is clearly a part of every aspect of Tynes life, but I think this book of poetry (if true) is as much about Tynes as it is about God. In my perfect book world, the front cover should reflect that in some way. The thing I’m finding I love about poetry, that you don’t always get with fiction, is how autobiographical a writer’s book of poems can be. Poetry is so personal. Especially touching are Tynes pieces on fatherhood and the stories he shares about his children, something I’m not sure I could have appreciated as much three years ago.
In God’s Love Tynes shares a full life with God, a full life with poetry, and well, a really full life. He has a lot to offer the world and I’m glad I have a little piece of that offering in my library.
Spoken Word and Live Poetry!
For those that used to frequent EB5 off Aldine Westfield, Half Price Books Humble is the new place to be every first Thursday of the Month at 7pm:
To My Beagle
Oh dear boy how you’ve aged…
As a pup I loved your floppy ears and soft belly
Now ears are lumpy, feel like hardened jelly
That belly is fat and your hair is half gone
You are going gray and don’t have long
Oh my dear, dear boy
How you’ve aged
You were so tiny, you brought me my keys
You gazed at me ’til I gave you a squeeze
We snuggled and played every day
On long walks you’d lead the way
You still snuggle, despite your bad skin
When we walk, you have trouble breathing in
Oh dear boy how you’ve aged!
My sweet little beagle, once so soft and fun
Has gotten old and greasy, too tired to run
I called you ‘boyfriend dog,’ side by side we slept
You’d rest your head on my shoulder whenever I wept
And now you curl up, away from us all
Old, tired, your peppy step now a crawl
We love you old boy, our sweet beagle dog
Our little old man, a bump on a log
My dear, dear, sweet boy
How much you have aged…
Anakalian Whims 