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Showing posts from February, 2016

A Poet's Journal: February 16th, 2015

  February 16th, 2015 Dreams are enough to make us believe that our own personal view of the world is somehow the secret underlying meaning for which all things happen.  They are the confidence which renders meager doubt into absolute truth and hesitation into full-on action.  But none of us will admit that dreams are reality, that they are not illusion, nor that they are always positive, and yet time and again we are told to live by them, to follow them, and to play the role which we have fictionalized in our heads. Though it is separate in our understanding, the dreams of sleep and the emanations of our waking hours, are but one and the same.  There is even a certain pleasure in pondering if the exotic nature of our dreams holds a meaning to the current situation of our lives.  Such is the wonderment of recognizing the imaginative play of the real and the illusory, or the duality that seems to balance out life, because somewhere within the dream we believe there is a reality at which

Valentine's Day Excerpt from Woodland Poems

Here is a Valentine's Day excerpt from Woodland Poems entitled: Atheotha and Hayuya Hayuya: Love as dreams of deepest matter of night,                For love that sleeps I take my care,                Love purest-born, accepting sight,                Forlorn of woman's touch upon my hair:                For love of Atheotha I repair. Atheotha: Never have I dreamed of sympathy's sight                   For more to see in love to dream at night,                   Of he to be my only care;                   For love, my cares already white,                   With beads and purple shells I braid my hair. Hayuya: This moon was white this night my love was made,                The night I saw a gleaming light,                Dancing in the green-corn parade                When quick my hand caressed her passing sight:                Our eyes soon met and thought that love just might.                When I was touched as by he

Lyric Poetry

Lyric poetry lives in its present means by he who composes it. From it the cloud extends which overtops the mountain, soon to leave it snow-clad and brilliant in the morning light. In it, the human condition is apt and sentiments that have been felt by the first of humans, the same as those that will be felt by the last, are with skill waved off in concise sentences. None can be long-winded in the lyric and succeed. A lyric, then, is a poem of no great length which embodies a mood wherein the poet has felt intensely his idea and the words which represent it. Some of the most recognized examples of lyric poetry in the English language are Shakespeare's sonnets, but some interesting examples may also include Sir Philip Sydney, who laid the ground-work for Shakespeare's sonnets; William Collins with his Ode to Evening; John Keats with his famous cycle of odes; or the following example from Emily Dickinson: The Grass The grass so little has to do-- A sphere of simp