  Poetry
This week: Edited by: stormyrene
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. stormyrene |
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Nightpiece
By James Joyce
Gaunt in gloom,
The pale stars their torches,
Enshrouded, wave.
Ghostfires from heaven's far verges faint illume,
Arches on soaring arches,
Night's sindark nave.
Seraphim,
The lost hosts awaken
To service till
In moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim,
Raised when she has and shaken
Her thurible.
And long and loud,
To night's nave upsoaring,
A starknell tolls
As the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud,
Voidward from the adoring
Waste of souls.
Strings in the Earth and Air
by James Joyce
Strings in the earth and air
Make music sweet;
Strings by the river where
The willows meet.
There's music along the river
For Love wanders there,
Pale flowers on his mantle,
Dark leaves on his hair.
All softly playing,
With head to the music bent,
And fingers straying
Upon an instrument.
James Joyce was born on February 2nd, 1882. Five of his siblings died in
childhood, leaving James the eldest surviving son of fifteen children. The
Joyce family lived in poverty in Dublin. James' father tried and failed at
many jobs. James' mother was a pianist and a devoted Catholic. Somehow they
managed to maintain a middle-class appearance. At age six, James started his
education at Clongowes Wood College. At eleven, he and his brother Stanislaus
received free tuition to Belvedere College.
At age nineteen, he submitted a collection of his poems to be published.
However, the publisher told Joyce not to publish them, so he started writing
and printing his work at his own expense. After recieving his degree from the
University College in Dublin, Joyce planned to be both a doctor and a writer.
He enrolled in Saint Cecila's medical school at age twenty but quit after only
a few months.
By twenty-two Joyce had written his first essay-story "A Portrait of the
Artist." He then wrote his first draft of Stephen Hero, which was published
twenty years later. In June, Joyce met chambermaid Nora Barnacle and fell in
love with her. Joyce's opposition to marriage made life tough on him and Nora
in Dublin, so Joyce moved then to Zurich.
In 1904 his first book of poems and stories was published — "The Sisters."
Joyce moved Nora yet again in 1905 to Trieste. Joyce's son Giogio was born in
July of 1905. Two years later, Joyce's daughter Lucia Anna was born. Joyce
moved his family around many times as he tried to find work. He tried being a
teacher, a banker, and even opened his own cinema which failed.
Over the next fifteen years Joyce had several pieces published. In June of
1914, Joyce published "Dubliners." That following year in September, "A
Portrait of the Artist" was published. In May of 1918, "Exiles" was published
in England and the United States. On his fortieth birthday in 1922, Ulysses
was published. That year, Joyce started to have severe eye trouble. In 1927
"Pomes Penyeach" was published, in 1928 "Anna Livia Plurabelle" was published
in book form.
At age forty-nine, Joyce finally married Nora. Later that same year, his
father died at eighty-two years of age. Then, in February of the following
year, Joyce became a grandfather, and his daughter Lucia had her first mental
breakdown. In 1934, "The Mime of Mick Nick and the Maggies" was published.
James Joyce died in 1941 in Zurich due to a perforated ulcer.
Simples
By James Joyce
O bella bionda,
Sei come l'onda!
Of cool sweet dew and radiance mild
The moon a web of silence weaves
In the still garden where a child
Gathers the simple salad leaves.
A moondew stars her hanging hair
And moonlight kisses her young brow
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Fair as the wave is, fair, art thou!
Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her childish croon
And mine a shielded heart for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.
On the Beach at Fontana
by James Joyce
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu,
Bid adieu to girlish days,
Happy Love is come to woo
Thee and woo thy girlish ways
The zone that doth become thee fair,
The snood upon thy yellow hair,
When thou hast heard his name upon
The bugles of the cherubim
Begin thou softly to unzone
Thy girlish bosom unto him
And softly to undo the snood
That is the sign of maidenhood.
Thank you all!
stormyrene
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
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TIME TRAIN
It stands as a memorial,
‘tho it’s rusty now and old,
memory of the freight train
is worth more to me than gold.
Once it was heard on the wind
from more than a mile away,
the whirling of its steel wheels
on tracks where they used to lay.
I can almost hear the whine
that the whistle used to make,
as it built a head of steam
for the hill down by the lake.
It was called midnight madness
when it came at night through town,
by those who said it woke them,
and in noise they thought would drown.
Now the moon and stars are out,
no more noise is left to hate,
unless bothered by the sound
from the busy interstate.
10/20/06
Who are we?
When confidence departs us
and courage takes to flight.
When those who have stood with us
give up the will to fight.
When many have decided
to look the other way
and those who once believed us
start doubting what we say.
Then we become a people
who can no longer be,
the one for telling others
Hey you can follow me;
-
No matter how we say it
we never will be more,
than what we have decided
is worth the dying for.
And those who live around us
are better served by far,
if we will keep on doing
that which we say we are.
If confidence departs us
and courage takes its flight,
then we will join the others
who slipped into the night.
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These are the rules:
1)You must use the words I give in a poem.
2)They can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem.
3)All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] by December 8, 2006.
4)The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post. (December 13, 2006)
The words are:
white winter wonder wind wool whistle wine whimsical
 Good luck to all
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If there is a poet you would like me to write about please feel free to let me know.
Thank you all and have a wonderful day,
stormyrene |
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Poetry: November 15, 2006 Issue [#1377]
