Category Archives: Poetry

Elizabeth Barrett Browning – My Kate

The world is an angry place these days.  I needed some beauty even if it is bathed in sadness.  Ms. Browning, I thank ye.

My Kate.

She was not as pretty as women I know,

And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow

Drop to shade, melt to nought in the long-trodden ways,

While she’s still remembered on warm and cold days—

My Kate.

Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;

You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face:

And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,

You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth—

My Kate.

Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke,

You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke:

When she did, so peculiar yet soft was the tone,

Though the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone—

My Kate.

I doubt if she said to you much that could act

As a thought or suggestion: she did not attract

In the sense of the brilliant or wise: I infer

’T was her thinking of others made you think of her—

My Kate.

She never found fault with you, never implied

Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side

Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town

The children were gladder that pulled at her gown—

My Kate.

None knelt at her feet confessed lovers in thrall;

They knelt more to God than they used,—that was all:

If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant,

But the charm of her presence was felt when she went—

My Kate.

The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude,

She took as she found them, and did them all good;

It always was so with her—see what you have!

She has made the grass greener even here . . . with her grave—

My Kate.

My dear one!—when thou wast alive with the rest,

I held thee the sweetest and loved thee the best:

And now thou art dead, shall I not take thy part

As thy smiles used to do for thyself, my sweet Heart—

My Kate?

I love poetry.  Not all are as beautiful as the one below.

My Kate by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

She was not as pretty as women I know,

And yet all your best made of sunshine and snow

Drop to shade, melt to nought in the long-trodden ways,

While she’s still remembered on warm and cold days—

My Kate.

Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;

You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face:

And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,

You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth—

My Kate.

Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke,

You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke:

When she did, so peculiar yet soft was the tone,

Though the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone—

My Kate.

I doubt if she said to you much that could act

As a thought or suggestion: she did not attract

In the sense of the brilliant or wise: I infer

’T was her thinking of others made you think of her—

My Kate.

She never found fault with you, never implied

Your wrong by her right; and yet men at her side

Grew nobler, girls purer, as through the whole town

The children were gladder that pulled at her gown—

My Kate.

None knelt at her feet confessed lovers in thrall;

They knelt more to God than they used,—that was all:

If you praised her as charming, some asked what you meant,

But the charm of her presence was felt when she went—

My Kate.

The weak and the gentle, the ribald and rude,

She took as she found them, and did them all good;

It always was so with her—see what you have!

She has made the grass greener even here . . . with her grave—

My Kate.

My dear one!—when thou wast alive with the rest,

I held thee the sweetest and loved thee the best:

And now thou art dead, shall I not take thy part

As thy smiles used to do for thyself, my sweet Heart—

My Kate?

Death, Be Not Proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

       — John Donne

He died almost a week ago.  He was young, filled with promise.  He had a future to yet be discovered.  He was someone’s child, sibling, grandson and friend.  He is gone now and all that remains is the question why?

The Road Most Traveled Is Also Beautiful!

Autumn seems to be zinging by and I had a fear I’d miss it.  Today I went out at lunchtime to catch some of the color.

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So many colors.  It’s amazing to watch.  I could sit on the bench for hours!

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The whole season races by and I’m always trying to catch a glimpse whenever I can.  It is hard to believe that this weekend is Halloween.

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Time really needs to slow down.  In the mean time I’m going to keep enjoying the show nature has laid out for us!

 

Itchy and Scratchy

While walking in the wooded area of the Arboretum last weekend I stumbled upon this sign…

This is good advice people.  Poison Ivy is like bad…true story.  Remember the old rhyme we all learned as children…Leaves of three leave them be.  Then I started thinking about all those people who would ignore this sage advice and how come Monday morning they would all be scratching themselves like Tim McGee from NCIS.  It reminds me also of those people who ignore signs…like at the zoo.  When they put up a sign in front of the bear or lion pens and in some cases a fence and you go beyond that so you can get a better picture…I think it’s only fair the animal be able to eat you.  It should be one of the rules.  If you are stupid and can’t follow basic direction then you get to be lunch.  Just saying.

A Melody In My Heart

On my way to get a very unhealthy lunch I was stuck in traffic and on the CD player I had Sarah McLachlan’s Mirrorball playing. Her songs have such incredible lyrics. Those of you who know me, know that I’m a SM freak and listen to her all the time. I take a lot of ribbing from my BFF’s because they think her music is depressing but I can’t get enough of it. Her lyrics are poetry…which of course is what Songs are…poetry set to music but something just strikes me about her lyrics.

” The lamp is burnin’ low upon my table top
The snow is softly fallin’
The air is still within the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly callin'” ~ Song For A Winter’s Night

Or these lines….

“I have a smile
stretched from ear to ear
to see you walking down the road

we meet at the lights
I stare for a while
the world around disappears” ~ I Love You

“And I would be the one
to hold you down,
kiss you so hard,
I’ll take your breath away” ~ Possession

I guess it’s just my obsession with poetry that attracts me to this kind of music. I just can’t help myself I love it!!!

Last night I was reading some Rainer Maria Rilke. Which I find I prefer in German than in English….is that weird? Storms also appear quite frequently in what I’m reading right now…or that would be Sturm. One can not live by Shakespeare and Shelley alone!

Pimps is Such an Ugly Word

I love words, sentences and sometimes I’m all about loving paragraphs. When I read, if something strikes me as Wow Factor 10, I’ll highlighted with my yellow highlighter. This is so later when I’m looking for that one passage or line it stands out for me. I sometimes put these lines or passages on my website’s quote forum. I find that in movies, the lines are funny and fun so I put them on the website too.

Then there could be just one line in a poem makes the poem worth while. “Though lovers be lost, love shall not, death hath no dominion” or “For sweetest things turn sourst by their deeds lily’s that fester smell far worse than weeds”. Pretty deep stuff from my men Dylan Thomas and Willie Shakespeare.

Even my favorite soap has some classically great lines. Kendall once uttered…”It’s about time I became the hero of my own life”. I love this line because I think sometimes I feel the same way about my life. I feel like everyday I’m quoting a quote, if that makes any sense. But it’s just so fun to use other peoples words when I haven’t any of my own.

On a totally unrelated subject….Tonight the Daytime Emmys are on at 8PM on ABC. I’m not has into it this year because it’s all about Y & the R. I feel that the nominating committee was sniffing their markers as they were creating the nominating list. My one grand hope is that One Life to Live takes top prize this year. Fingers cross ya’ll! As Willie once wrote…“Unto the breach once more, dear friends” !!!