Category Archives: Poetry

Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s The Autumn

wood_by_anhroThe Autumn

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1833)

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them —
The summer flowers depart —
Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart.

How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind.
Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall.

lost-7Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!

The dearest hands that clasp our hands, —
Their presence may be o’er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh’d our mind,
Shall come — as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.

Hear not the wind — view not the woods;
Look out o’er vale and hill —
autumn choresIn spring, the sky encircled them —
The sky is round them still.
Come autumn’s scathe — come winter’s cold —
Come change — and human fate!
Whatever prospect Heaven doth bound,
Can ne’er be desolate.


October’s Opal

081110bend October’s Opal by Robert Savino
October is here, once again,
barely transcending the threshold of autumn.
The maple is turning yellow to orange, to red,
soon to be bared by winter.

Ah winter, when blankets of bliss
cover spoon-fit bodies,91178113547390998
flickering sparks to flames. . .
until love of spring gardens
becomes the rapture of summer bloom.

And looking from outside-in,
beyond recognizable beauty,
the ruby of jewels glows bright,
pumping currents of rivers red,
deep into the wells of every extremity.
Our chest fills with laughter.
autumn6
When apart, even so brief,
this season stays with you,
whether I am or not
and your voice with me,

through wind’s immutable breath.


Calamus

The “Calamus” poems are a cluster of poems in Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. These poems celebrate and promote “the manly love of comrades”. Many critics believe that these poems are Whitman’s clearest expressions in print of his ideas about homosexual love.

Arcadia

This cluster of poems contains a number of images and motifs that are repeated throughout. The most important is probably the Calamus root itself. Acorus calamus or Sweet Flag is a marsh-growing plant similar to a cat-tail. Whitman continues through this one of the central images of Leaves of Grass–Calamus is treated as a larger example of the grass that he writes of elsewhere. Some scholars have pointed out as reasons for Whitman’s choice the phallic shape of what Whitman calls, “pink-tinged roots” of Calamus, its mythological association with failed male same-sex love and with writing (see Kalamos), and the allegedly mind-altering effects of the root. The root was chiefly chewed at the time as a breath-freshener and to relieve stomach complaints.

Swimming

We two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm’d and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,
      threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on
      the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.

The-Wrestlers

The images in this post are paintings by Thomas Eakins.  Thomas Cowperthwait Eakins (July 25, 1844 – June 25, 1916) was a realist painter, photographer, sculptor, and fine arts educator. He is widely acknowledged to be one of the most important artists in American art history.

For the length of his professional career, from the early 1870s until his health began to fail some forty years later, Eakins worked exactingly from life, choosing as his subject the people of his hometown of Philadelphia. He painted several hundred portraits, usually of friends, family members, or prominent people in the arts, sciences, medicine, and clergy. Taken en masse, the portraits offer an overview of the intellectual life of Philadelphia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries; individually, they are incisive depictions of thinking persons. As well, Eakins produced a number of large paintings which brought the portrait out of the drawing room and into the offices, streets, parks, rivers, arenas, and surgical amphitheaters of his city. These active outdoor venues allowed him to paint the subject which most inspired him: the nude or lightly clad figure in motion. In the process he could model the forms of the body in full sunlight, and create images of deep space utilizing his studies in perspective.


Autumn Fires

100 Bonfires always remind me of fall.  The big bonfire before the homecoming game.  Sitting around a bonfire telling stories.  Ghost stories around the campfire.  All these things remind me of autumn.  I just never got the chance to run around them naked, what about you?  Do bonfires remind you of autumn?  Have you ever run around one naked.
 
Autumn Fires
Robert Louis Stevenson (1913)

In the other gardenspic28
  And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
  See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer over
  And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
  The gray smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
  Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
   Fires in the fall!
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art a6


William Blake’s To Autumn

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To Autumn

William Blake (from Poetical Sketches, 1783)

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

“The narrow bud opens her beauties to
autumn4The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

“The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.


Homosexual Poetry from the Three Kingdoms and Six Dynasties Period

image The complexity of homosexual relationships inevitably led to the creation of poetic works immortalizing conflicting sentiments. Ruan Ji (210- 263CE), lover of Xi Kang, was one of the most famous poets to apply his brush to a homosexual theme. This work, one of several dealing with homosexuality from the “Jade Terrace” collection of love poetry, beautifully illustrates the stock imagery on which men of his time could draw in conceptualizing and describing love for another man.

In days of old there were many blossom boys —
An Ling and Long Yang.
Young peach and plum blossoms,
Dazzling with glorious brightness.
Joyful as nine springtimes;
Pliant as if bowed by autumn frost.

Roving glances gave rise to beautiful seductions;
Speech and laughter expelled fragrance.
Hand in hand they shared love’s rapture,
Sharing coverlets and bedclothes.

Couples of birds in flight,
Paired wings soaring.
Cinnabar and green pigments record a vow:
“I’ll never forget you for all eternity. ”


Autumn Poetry

6a00e54f0a235a88340134879471c7970c-800wiAutumn is here and you can certainly feel it. The weather is wonderful here. Highs in the 60s and 70s, with Lows in the 40s at night.  I love fall weather. Hopefully, it will continue to get cooler.
To celebrate the Fall Season, here is William Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 73” to get you in the mood for Fall.
Sonnet 73
by William Shakespeare (1609)
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 deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

sunrise_by_anhro

Veterans Day

image

John McCrae: In Flanders Fields (1915)


image Canadian poet John McCrae was a medical officer in both the Boer War and World War I. A year into the latter war he published in Punch magazine, on December 8, 1915, the sole work by which he would be remembered. This poem commemorates the deaths of thousands of young men who died in Flanders during the grueling battles there. It created a great sensation, and was used widely as a recruiting tool, inspiring other young men to join the Army. Legend has it that he was inspired by seeing the blood-red poppies blooming in the fields where many friends had died. In 1918 McCrae died at the age of 46, in the way most men died during that war, not from a bullet or bomb, but from disease: pneumonia, in his case.


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on rowimage
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly



Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.



Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


Veterans Day is an annual United States holiday honoring military veterans. A federal holiday, it is observed on November 11. It is also celebrated as Armistice Day or Remembrance Day in other parts of the world, falling on November 11, the anniversary of the signing of the Armistice that ended World War I. (Major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918 with the German signing of the Armistice.)

WWI-military-13123
Especially, please remember all of the gay and lesbian service men and women who have served and too often died in silence about their sexuality, yet served their country with as much élan as any other soldier.  Hopefully soon, GLBT members of the military can serve openly and we can celebrate their service to the fullest extent of their deserved equality.  We need to rid America of DADT.

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Happy Veterans Day!
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Nothing Gold Can Stay

BOTD-103110-003Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost (1923)

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

I don’t have a lot to write about, but I love the poetry of Robert Frost.  I hope that you enjoy this Autumn themed poem.  I will get a little more inspiration later, until them, enjoy this short bit of poetry. –JB


The First Amendment and Book Burning

They came first for the Communists,
and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up.

Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

The above poem was featured on my friend crothdiver’s blog Anything Male, the other day in a post he wrote about the recent controversy surrounding a pastor in Florida who was planning on burning the Qur’an. The whole subject has had my riled up for days and has had me thinking of American’s First Amendment rights, censorship rights, and the ignorance of book burning. So I thought I would address these three ideas from my own perspective.

First of all, who was Martin Niemöller? German theologian and war hero as a submarine commander in World War I, he became a minister in 1924. When the Nazis came to power in 1933, he was originally a supporter of the Nazi party, but later he protested their interference in church affairs and helped combat discrimination against Christians of Jewish background. As founder of the anti-Nazi Confessing Church, he worked to oppose Adolf Hitler. Arrested in 1937, he was interned until 1945. After the war he helped rebuild the Evangelical Church. Increasingly disillusioned with prospects for demilitarization, he became a controversial pacifist; for his efforts to extend friendship ties to Soviet-bloc countries, he received the Lenin Peace Prize (1967) and West Germany’s Grand Cross of Merit (1971).

The First Amendment

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

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I agree with the President on this issue. Mr. Jones may have the right to speak out against Islam and may technically have the right to burn books. However, by burning the Qur’an, Mr. Jones has incited riots and hatred toward Americans around the world, when we are currently at war with religious extremists, he is attempting to burn their word of God. The Qur’an is literally the word of Allah, as spoken through his messenger, the Archangel Gabriel, and memorized and recited by the prophet Muhammad. Quite honestly, I can see 100 percent why this would upset even the most peaceful Muslims in the world. This act also puts our soldiers overseas at an even greater risk. In Afghanistan, we are dealing with people who need only the slightest provocation to seek retribution. The act of burning the Qur’an is more than just the slightest provocation. The Taliban used the natural disaster of the floods in Pakistan to attack innocent people, they have no morals. These are not true believers, if they were, they would honor Allah, not desecrate his name. Why fuel the fires of average Muslims with the burning of their holy book. By even the threat, Mr. Jones has aided Al Qaeda and the Taliban in their methods of recruitment. He has put the national security of America and the security of American citizens and soldiers abroad at risk. It has been a long standing tradition and backed by laws in America that using the excuse of freedom of speech is not legal if you are inciting danger. Just as you are not able to yell fire in a crowded building when there is not a fire, you also cannot incite world wide riots for your own publicity seeking exploits as Mr. Jones has done.

Book Burning

image First, let me say that I am a total and complete bibliophile. I love and cherish books. Some of my most prized possessions are books. I find the written and printed word to be sacred. To burn a book is one of the most destructive and horrific events that can one can do to an inanimate object.

Book burning, biblioclasm or libricide is the practice of destroying, often ceremoniously, books or other written material and media. In modern times, other forms of media, such as phonograph records, video tapes, and CDs have also been ceremoniously burned, torched, or shredded. The practice, usually carried out in public, is generally motivated by moral, religious, or political objections to the material.

Some particular cases of book burning are long and traumatically remembered – because the books destroyed were irreplaceable and their loss constituted a severe damage to cultural heritage, and/or because this instance of book burning has become emblematic of a harsh and oppressive regime. Such were the destruction of the Library of Alexandria, the obliteration of the Library of Baghdad, the burning of books and burying of scholars under China’s Qin Dynasty, the destruction of Mayan codices by Spanish conquistadors and priests, and some seem more for publicity for a cause such as Nazi book burnings, the burning of Beatles records after a remark by John Lennon concerning Jesus Christ, and the destruction of the Sarajevo National Library.

image There have been many religious leaders in history who have burned books that they found offensive. In 1497, followers of the Italian priest Girolamo Savonarola collected and publicly burned pornography, lewd pictures, pagan books, gaming tables, cosmetics, copies of Boccaccio’s Decameron, and all the works of Ovid which could be found in Florence. Savonarola’s dictatorship in Florence also led to the persecution of homosexuals, as did nearly every other existence of extreme dictatorships and book burnings. That is why I find the poem at the beginning of this post to be so poignant.

In my opinion, whether it is an off-the-wall extremist minister in Florida, a crazy monk in medieval Florence, or a ruthless anti-Semitic leader in 1930s and 1940s Germany, it is a very dangerous first step to the destruction of all that America holds sacred. Book burning is symbolic and pure censorship and only leads to extremism.