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poetry - page 5

LIGHTHOUSE IN THE NIGHT ~ POEM BY ALFONSINA STORNI

in Poetry of Art by

The sky a black sphere,
the sea a black disk.

The lighthouse opens
its solar fan on the coast.

Spinning endlessly at night,
whom is it searching for

when the mortal heart
looks for me in the chest?

Look at the black rock
where it is nailed down.

A crow digs endlessly
but no longer bleeds.

Alfonsina Storni

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LAST FIRE ~ POEM BY DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

in Poetry of Art by

Love,through your spirit and mine what summer eve
Now glows with glory of all things possess’d,
Since this day’s sun of rapture filled the west
And the light sweetened as the fire took leave?
Awhile now softlier let your bosom heave,
As in Love’s harbour, even that loving breast,
All care takes refuge while we sink to rest,
And mutual dreams the bygone bliss retrieve.
Many the days that Winter keeps in store,
Sunless throughout, or whose brief sun-glimpses
Scarce shed the heaped snow through the naked trees,
This day at least was Summer’s paramour,
Sun-coloured to the imperishable core
With sweet well-being of love and full heart’s ease.

DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI

painting Daydream by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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FISH SONG ~ POEM BY ALAN KLEIMAN

in My Artist Friends ~ and their creations.../Poetry of Art by

FISH SONG

Nobody knows da trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows da trouble I’ve seen
Lordy lordy lord.

Nobody now knows nothing
No stuff
No junk
No words of my life
No secrets
No nothing that moves or shakes me.

What is my life but a sad tale
Of fish flying
And maybe a whale
Nobody knows the trouble
Nobody’s now my girl
Rhubarb and roses
Fly away home.

© Alan Kleiman 2011

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SOMERSET MAUGHAM ~ ON POETRY

in Poetical Visions by

The crown of literature is poetry. It is its end and aim. It is the sublimest activity of the human mind. It is the achievement of beauty and delicacy. The writer of prose can only step aside when the poet passes.
~W. Somerset Maugham

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W.H. AUDEN ~ HOW DOES A POET EARN HIS MONEY?

in Poetical Visions by


“It is a sad fact about our culture that a poet can earn much more money writing or talking about his art than he can by practicing it.”
~W.H. Auden

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ALFRED LORD TENNYSON ~ SADNESS

in Poetry of Art by

“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depths of some devine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.”

Alfred Lord Tennyson

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TURGENJEV ~ ON POETS

in The words that make sense... brilliant writings by writers... by

A poet must be a psychologist, but a secret one: he should know and feel the roots of phenomena but present only the phenomena themselves in full bloom or as they fade away.

Ivan Turgenjev

Painting

Portrait of Turgenjev by Ilja Repin

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Books and Happiness

BOOKS AND HAPPINESS

  “You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy books and that’s kind of the same thing.” Anonymous Girl Reading

PABLO NERUDA ~ ON HIS POETRY

in Poetical Visions by

I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
~Pablo Neruda, quoted in Wall Street Journal,, 14 November 1985

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MURIEL RUKEYSER ~ ON POETRY

in Poetical Visions by

Breathe-in experience,
breathe-out poetry.

~Muriel Rukeyser

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SYLVIA PLATH ~ ON POETRY

in Poetical Visions by

“The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it.”
Sylvia Plath

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