[Rainey]

[madameshawshank]

sure did Rainey! a hat of earth and a hat of wind...this is faintable ...all our hats..at the moment I imagine a hat of bluebells...since ma spirit is a bit on the blue side at the moment..however the deal is to sing the mystery whatever...so the bells are my Blues of this day...

what a joy to have discovered Billy....

do you know Eric Bibb's gorgeous song "Panama Hat"? I once asked him if he'd sing it for our daughter ~ her favourite Bibb song...she was sitting so close to the stage...'n she didn't know I dropped him a note...unforgettable!

here's to all our hats...both individual and collective....we wear many, even when hatless....the invisible hat...

hugs to the poems and the poets ...

The Death of the Hat

Once every man wore a hat.

In the ashen newsreels,
the avenues of cities
are broad rivers flowing with hats.

The ballparks swelled
with thousands of strawhats,
brims and bands,
rows of men smoking
and cheering in shirtsleeves.

Hats were the law.
They went without saying.
You noticed a man without a hat in a crowd.

You bought them from Adams or Dobbs
who branded your initials in gold
on the inside band.

Trolleys crisscrossed the city.
Steamships sailed in and out of the harbor.
Men with hats gathered on the docks.

There was a person to block your hat
and a hatcheck girl to mind it
while you had a drink
or ate a steak with peas and a baked potato.
In your office stood a hat rack.

The day war was declared
everyone in the street was wearing a hat.
And they were wearing hats
when a ship loaded with men sank in the icy sea.

My father wore one to work every day
and returned home
carrying the evening paper,
the winter chill radiating from his overcoat.

But today we go bareheaded
into the winter streets,
stand hatless on frozen platforms.

Today the mailboxes on the roadside
and the spruce trees behind the house
wear cold white hats of snow.

Mice scurry from the stone walls at night
in their thin fur hats
to eat the birdseed that has spilled.

And now my father, after a life of work,
wears a hat of earth,
and on top of that,
a lighter one of cloud and sky--a hat of wind.
_________________
"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[katedefontaine]

[gingerpale]

Madame Shawshank, the photo you posted of the old stove and old ice box (?) made me think of this poem--it's theme certainly would apply to cooking and kitchens!

Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things--
For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal; chestnut falls; finches wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plow;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

[madameshawshank]

gingerpale ~ when you reach the shores of Oz, let me take you to the museum and you can touch those memories of yesteryear...'n of course I will make churros!!!

your poem posted...it was one studied in high school....my who I was then didn't know what the hell it was about...yet here I am 40 years later at home with every word ~ patience ~

oops...

a poem..what comes to mind...let's see what comes through my fingers

Ballet Russes

tickets won
few months back if I recall
ah the magic thought I
Classic FM 'n Sophie
Bondi Junction film seen ~ memories of home childhood
rich film ~ rich and textured with story
balletballetballetballetballet
'n once again
today in fact
Claudia, Marcia 'n moi
three
drank we did
ballet
and the wonder of movement
waffles and coffee on return
camellias in flower
flower bunches in hands
waves
nightsky of few stars seen and smile of the moon
_________________
"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[madameshawshank]

a friend in the States has been writing of the Middle East...his language, for me, requires work...it is never obvious...yet when I reach the pearl..wow! I imagined the whole area covered in flowers...with all enjoying...I imagined...the power of a thought...the power and energy of a thought...why not? I say..why not!

this was my reply to his latest post:

here I am with the flowers

sunflowers such that Vincent returns
roses thornless this day
violets my grandma loved
the magnolias in bloom in the garden of here
tulips! yellow since they speak to my heart
and all others
flowers all
amongst the tears of sorrow and rage
these waters will encourage the flowers to be flowerful
and as such
they...they all!
will stop
in wonder
at these flowers

let's start the display..

anyone care to join us?
_________________
"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[Griffin]

Well here is a sonnet wot I wrote recently... tho' obviously I am no Shakespeare... 'hem, 'hem!

Let us record our histories and cause
On the empty waves of lakes
That lap at their quiet shores.

Let us not imperious drakes,
Nor still-standing herons
Drive away the nibs of our pens.

Nibs of wood that have their summons
Writ on air, on hills; moors and fens
On the very skies drifted with cloud.

Write then on waves with lines of silver
That water shall call to earth aloud
And every aery atom ring - sing in fervour.

Let us drink to the past when we were kings
And Nature favoured us of all living things.
_________________
Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[Griffin]

This is a poem I wrote for the owner of the Real Patisserie in Brighton, England. I used a dictionary and verb book to write it, so any mistakes are all mine… sorry!

O je désire, s’il vous plait, mademoiselle,
Un métis où tarte au chocolat;
Parce que, mon cœur m’appelle,
«Seigneur », et comme un chat
Je ronronne au fond du mon cœur.
A goûter tels délices si doux,
Chère, chocolat est divin, c’est sur
Faisent par des anges, seraphes tout
Chantant des tous bons choses de la vie.

O ma chère, je t’aime, je t’adore,
O belle tarte au chocolat ! – je cris ;
Je baise ta douceur, tu est mon or,
Le soleil en hiver a ma lune
Un rêve fait vrai, une belle fortune.

Mademoiselle est ce que vous m’aimez
Que vous me vendez telles bonnes choses ?
O je vis envelopper et totalement serrais
Par des étoiles et pétales des roses
Quand j’ai baise par vos tartes
Et des autres bontés que vous me faites.
Mon cœur apprend a voler ces jours
Et je veus ces milles petites fetes
A me remplissent avec tels amours
Que seulement des fières comètes
Tiennent pour la plus belle Selênê
Déesse de la lune et pâle errante reine.

Chère mademoiselle écartez rage a moi
Je ne aimerriais une trop belle pour moi.

And this is what I meant…

O I desire, if you please miss,
A métis or chocolate tart ;
Because my heart calls me
“Lord”, and like a cat
I purr at the base of my heart
To taste such delicacies so sweet.

Dear, chocolate is divine, it’s sure
Made by angels, seraphs all
Singing of all the good things of life.

O my dear, I love you, I adore you,
O beautiful chocolate tart! – I cry;
I kiss your sweetness, you are my gold,
The sun in winter to my moon
A dream made real, a beauteous fortune.

Miss do you love me
That you sell me such good things?
O I live enveloped and totally locked
By stars and rose petals
When I have been kissed by your tarts
And other goodnesses that you make me.
My heart learns to steal these days
And I want these thousand little feasts
To fill me with such loves
As only proud comets
Held for the most beautiful Selene
Goddess of the moon and pale wandering queen.

Dear miss turn away rage at me
I would not love one too beautiful for me.

I really miss those tartes aux chocolat too... and the metis... and all the other wonderful things... sigh!
_________________
Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[minty]

wow ! you ARE a poet !

I'll just try to re-write your verses in franco-french and try to keep all the rhymes... :

[quote]O je désire, s’il vous plait, mademoiselle,
Un métis ou une tarte au chocolat;
Parce que mon cœur m’appelle,
«Seigneur », et comme un chat
du fond du coeur je ronronne .
en espérant goûter de si doux délices,
le chocolat est divin, c'est sûr, ma bonne,
fait par les anges et les séraphins leurs complices,
chantant au monde les bienfaits de la vie

O ma chérie, je t’aime, je t’adore,
O belle tarte au chocolat ! – je crie ;
J'embrasse ta douceur, tu es mon or,
Le soleil en hiver de ma lune
Un rêve réalisé,une superbe fortune (do you mean like a lot of money or luck ?).

Mademoiselle serait-ce que vous m’aimez
Pour me vendre de si bonnes choses ?
O je vis enveloppé et même emprisonné
Par des étoiles et des pétales de roses
Par vos tartes et autres friandises
Douceurs dont je suis éprises
Aujourd'hui mon cœur a appris à voler
Et je veux que ces milles petits festins
Me remplissent de tels amours enfiévrés
Que seules de fières comètes
Réalisent pour Selênê la plus belle
Déesse de la lune et reine errante et pâle.

Demoiselle ma mie partez, montrez moi votre courroux
je ne peux aimer trop belle pour moi, voyez-vous

well, I tried my best....it's french, but I don't know if it's good poetry...I enjoyed trying, though ....

[madameshawshank]

Griffin 'n minty...what joyous posts! thank you

from Chase Twichell:

Tea Mind

Even as a child I could
induce it at will.
I'd go to where the big rocks

stayed cold in the woods all summer,
and tea mind would come to me

like water over stones, pool to pool,
and in that way I taught myself to think.
Green teas are my favorites, especially

the basket-fired Japanese ones
that smell of baled hay.

Thank you, makers of this tea.
Because of you my mind is still tonight,
transparent, a leaf in air.

Now it rides a subtle current.
Now it can finally disappear.
_________________
"I've never accepted the external appearance of things as the whole truth. The world is much more elaborate than the nerves of our eye can tell us." - James Gleeson

[Griffin]

Thank you minty... I loved your translation into REAL French instead of my stumbling efforts. Much better French AND fine poetry! I have even dared to write a ballade or three, but not in French. I'm not THAT brave!

I love Ophelie by Rimbaud as well as Le Bateau Ivre and Nuit en Enfer... in fact I like Rimbaud a lot! I have old Penguin Books with the original French poems and the English translations beneath. Amazingly, tho' they do Rimbaud and Baudelaire, they don't do Mallarme which is a great shame.

I did mean luck rather than money, tho' in that patisserie a superb amount of money would be good!

Madame Shawshank, Tea Mind is beautiful. As delicate a touch as the delicate green of green tea or pure porcelain. I love that 'like water over stones, pool to pool,' which makes you imagine it.

I have a whole window shelf full of poetry and plays... mostly poetry! Those and my art books are particular to me.

Has anyone read Archy and Mehitabel? I love those.
_________________
Confusion comes fitted as standard.

[Deste]

Probably anyone educated in France knows the poet and poem very, very well from school, but both are fairly new discoveries for me. If someone finds a good translation in English, please post, but meanwhile, this is most suitable for the forum:

Jacques Prevert, "La Grasse Matinee."

http://www.cartage.org.lb/fr/themes/livreBiblioteques/Livres/Biblio(fr)/P/Prev/04.html


& & & & & & &

Speaking of Billy Collins (mentioned above): The following is a favorite. Read after putting dishtowels or something else to right and left of poem so you're not distracted by the margins: "Osso Buco"

http://tablefortwoplease.com/v-web/b2/index.php?m=20050227

& & & & & &
And thank you for the poem about tea, Madame! It and the poet are new to me. Lovely.

[KathyD]

Has anyone read Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen....Out of Africa)? The movie of her life in Africa was of course very good, but her autobiographical book was terrific. And so is the rest of her work.

It's interesting to know that she began writing in English (her native language was Danish). I find that to be extraordinary.

[Deste]

Perhaps you could start a new topic on prose?

[minty]

well, I love prévert.... do you want it translated into english (i could give it a try) ;

Griffin : anytime, you're welcome , I enjoyed doing that....I don't dare writing poetry by myself though....but if you have anymore translating to do , i usually come everyday on this forum;