#poetry

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Today is Burns' birthday, let's celebrate!

'There's no other poem like it': Why this Robert Burns classic is a masterpiece

Tam O'Shanter is a rip-roaring tale of witches and alcohol, but it has hidden depths. On Burns Night this Sunday – and 235 years after the poem was published in 1791 – Scots everywhere may well be treated to a masterwork with a unique, universal appeal.

By Nicholas Barber

https://www.bbc.co.uk/culture/article/20260122-why-this-robert-burns-poem-is-a-masterpiece

Tam O'Shanter at PG:
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25733

Fronstispiece of the book Tam O' Shanter. by Robert Burns. Decorations by Harry L. Miller. Published by The Saalfield Publishing Company. The artwork is done in a highly decorative, ornate, and gothic style, with intricate linework. The entire page is framed by a border made of twisting thorny branches, leaves, and vines. The illustration has a dark fairy-tale and folkloric atmosphere. The border contains small human and supernatural figures, animals, and symbolic elements: A small seated figure near the top left; Hanging figures or effigies suspended from branches; Witch-like and goblin-like creatures placed around the frame; Small animals such as cats or owls, enhancing the eerie tone; The thorny branches curve around to form an elaborate rectangular frame. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/25733/pg25733-images.html

This is from ‘Tam O’ Shanter’ by Robert Burns. I love the images contained and the last line which plunges you into the rest of the story…

“But pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white—then melts forever;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm.
Nae man can tether time or tide….”

The quote in the main text is the only part of the poem not in broad Scots. It is in the language used in Edinburgh by the cultural, legal and political elite of the time. I love the poem and it is a rattling good story. The illustration is a photograph we took just up the lane from here during the recent geomagnetic storms. The Aurora weren’t that clear here on Skye but it did make for an atmospheric night. The poem continues: “That hour, o’ night’s black arch the key-stane,
 That dreary hour he mounts his beast in; 
And sic a night he taks the road in, 
As ne’er poor sinner was abroad in. The wind blew as ’twad blawn its last;
 The rattling showers rose on the blast;
 The speedy gleams the darkness swallow’d;
 Loud, deep, and lang, the thunder bellow’d: 
That night, a child might understand,
 The Deil had business on his hand.”

There are days when,
although I try to open myself
to wonder, wonder just
won’t be found. Or perhaps,
it is more accurate to say
on those days I am simply
blind to what the world
has to offer

until I look down, and there,
beside the sidewalk,
are blades of grass completely
enrobed in ice, shimmering
in the glow of the setting sun,
and as they sway and move
into each other, if I listen,
really listen,
even they are singing
faint little bell-notes of joy.
~~ 'Can You Hear It?' by Paula Gordon Lepp from 'The Wonder of Small Things'

@bookstodon

Robert Hayden's bus route (route 5) is a literary landmark in Ann Arbor.

https://poets.org/text/robert-haydens-bus-route-ann-arbor-mi

"Hayden lived at 1201 Gardner Avenue, not far from campus; however, his severe nearsightedness made it impossible for him to drive, or even walk the rutted sidewalks to work. As a result, Hayden regularly took the Ann Arbor Transportation Authority's #5 bus that ran along Packard Street."

Perhaps best known for his poem "Those Winter Sundays"

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46461/those-winter-sundays



Content warning Poem, Shopkeeping, Fantasy Land, A Cat, An Injury, A Potential Indecency, Everyone Involved Is Rude

Day 31: Happy New Year! Take pride in what you’ve written and share the progress you've made!

A Poem a Day (for most days):

An Eighth Shot of Espresso Poetry: https://e8thespresso.blogspot.com/

I finally dropped a stack of books on the local bookcrossing shelf, a year later than anticipated.

I came back with a small hardcover book, The Nature of Poetry (1946).

The basic framework proposed in this book remains relevant today, albeit with some marginal caveats.

The chapter is titled as follows:

1. Poetry is exact
2. Poetry is intense
3. Poetry is significant
4. Poetry is concrete
5. Poetry is complex
6. Poetry is rhythmical
7. Poetry is formal

@bookstodon