And what's lovely about Millay's poetry is that it's not that lovely at all - it's sad and happy and cynical and witty - and it's defining characteristic is Edna herself: hers is a clear, defiant voice that rails with humour against love, loss and the realities of her life, whilst speaking about relationships, mortality and the world at large in the most tender and insightful way.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
13.2.12
Review: Everyman's Library Pocket Poets - Edna St Vincent Millay
This poetry anthology, Everyman's Library Pocket Poets' edition of selected poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay, came to me as a Christmas present from someone who kindly picked it off my Amazon wish list. It had been on there for a while, an anomaly amongst the more modern stuff, as I knew a few poems of hers from other anthologies and was desperate to read more. This Everyman volume is a beautiful slim volume that is as attractive and lovely as the poetry inside.
And what's lovely about Millay's poetry is that it's not that lovely at all - it's sad and happy and cynical and witty - and it's defining characteristic is Edna herself: hers is a clear, defiant voice that rails with humour against love, loss and the realities of her life, whilst speaking about relationships, mortality and the world at large in the most tender and insightful way.
And what's lovely about Millay's poetry is that it's not that lovely at all - it's sad and happy and cynical and witty - and it's defining characteristic is Edna herself: hers is a clear, defiant voice that rails with humour against love, loss and the realities of her life, whilst speaking about relationships, mortality and the world at large in the most tender and insightful way.
2.1.12
In My Mailbox, No. 4
Happy 2012! I hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year? I'm trying to extricate myself from my holiday-induced lethargy in preparation for going back to work tomorrow, and I thought an In My Mailbox post, which is part of the Story Siren meme, might be the way to start doing that.
And what a bumper crop we have today :) Santa and my family were tres kind, as you're about to see:
Labels:
Carol Ann Duffy,
In My Mailbox,
poetry,
Russia,
Tolstoy
16.12.11
Wedding Poems
This is actually the sister post to something I posted in November about looking for wedding poems with a friend; this is the one where I describe those that were actually found. I didn't do the finding, the bride found them herself, but I always think that the poems read at weddings say quite a lot about the bride and groom, both as a couple and as individuals.
Here are the two chosen for the wedding a few weeks ago, in the venue that reminded me of Manderley in 'Rebecca':
Here are the two chosen for the wedding a few weeks ago, in the venue that reminded me of Manderley in 'Rebecca':
Labels:
Miscellaneous,
poetry
21.11.11
Whilst Searching for Wedding Poems with a Friend...
...I uttered a sentence not unlike 'I'm sure if people knew that poetry could be like this, they wouldn't walk around thinking poetry isn't for them.'
Here are some of the poems that brought me to that conclusion:
Labels:
Carol Ann Duffy,
poetry
11.11.11
For all those doing Nanowrimo
A bit cheesy perhaps, but it put me in mind of Nanowrimo, so here you are:
'You Wake Up In The Morning
You wake up in the morning, and lo! your purse is magically filled with twenty-four hours of the magic tissue of the universe of your life. No one can take it from you. No one receives either more or less than you receive. Waste your infinitely precious commodity as much as you will, and the supply will never be withheld from you. Moreover, you cannot draw on the future. Impossible to get into debt. You can only waste the passing moment. You cannot waste tomorrow; it is kept for you.'
Arnold Bennett
Now that's enough reading - go back to your WIP and write!
21.10.11
Some Great Advice from Charles Bukowski
This will either fire you up massively, or make you want to die. Either way, enjoy.
So You Want To be A Writer by Charles Bukowski
'if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.'
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.'
From All Poetry.
Labels:
Charles Bukowski,
Miscellaneous,
poetry,
Writing Theory
7.10.11
My Life in Poetry, on National Poetry Day
Yesterday, Thursday 6th October, was National Poetry Day, which got me thinking about which are my favourite poems and which are the most prominent 'flags' for phases of my life.
I've made a little list:
3.10.11
In My Mailbox, No. 2
Welcome to my second In My Mailbox, a Story Siren meme where I list all the books in my immediate vicinity, so even if I don't blog about them you know they're there, patiently waiting near the top of my TBR pile, about to leap into (or out of) my hand.
Bit of an eclectic one this month:
Bit of an eclectic one this month:
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