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  1. #31
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    Blog On The Genius Of Rudyard Kipling
    Blog Posted:2/28/2021 11:58:00 AM
    Blog On The Genius Of Rudyard Kipling


    In The Shadows Beyond The Lights, Tribute poem



    In the shadows beyond the lights

    Poe's curse, Raven's dark flights

    A land, far beyond sinking moon

    Loss and sorrows brought too soon

    Groans of our dying mortal coils

    Greed for greater earthen spoils

    Accursed abyss, blacken Hell

    Falling under evil spell.



    Wherein the heart's joys are so brief

    Stealing away like a thief

    As setting sun fading to black

    Victim dying to backtrack

    Midnight pause, silver crescent fade

    Pain, love when one is played

    The dark behind sphinx's stony smile

    Or birth of hate, mortal guile.



    Muffled cries of the recent dead

    Chained in rooms of pure dread

    Stone walls washed with flowing red

    Souls wondering where light fled

    Echoes from deep caverns below

    Singing in Hell's daily shows

    No mercy therein ever cast

    Raven's ghouls having a blast.



    In the shadows beyond the lights

    Poe's curse, Raven's dark flights

    A land, far beyond sinking moon

    Loss and sorrows brought too soon.



    Robert J. Lindley, 2-24- 2021

    Dark Rhyme, ( Within The Depths Of Darkest Night )

    Tribute to Kipling


    *******

    Blog on the genius of Rudyard Kipling

    https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/rudyard-kipling

    Rudyard Kipling

    1865–1936

    Rudyard Kipling

    Rudyard Kipling is one of the best-known of the late Victorian poets and story-tellers. Although he was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1907, his political views, which grew more toxic as he aged, have long made him critically unpopular. In the New Yorker, Charles McGrath remarked “Kipling has been variously labelled a colonialist, a jingoist, a racist, an anti-Semite, a misogynist, a right-wing imperialist warmonger; and—though some scholars have argued that his views were more complicated than he is given credit for—to some degree he really was all those things. That he was also a prodigiously gifted writer who created works of inarguable greatness hardly matters anymore, at least not in many classrooms, where Kipling remains politically toxic.” However, Kipling’s works for children, above all his novel The Jungle Book, first published in 1894, remain part of popular cultural through the many movie versions made and remade since the 1960s.



    Kipling was born in Bombay, India, in 1865. His father, John Lockwood Kipling, was principal of the Jeejeebyhoy School of Art, an architect and artist who had come to the colony, writes Charles Cantalupo in the Dictionary of Literary Biography, “to encourage, support, and restore native Indian art against the incursions of British business interests.” He meant to try, Cantalupo continues, “to preserve, at least in part, and to copy styles of art and architecture which, representing a rich and continuous tradition of thousands of years, were suddenly threatened with extinction.” His mother, Alice Macdonald, had connections through her sister’s marriage to the artist Sir Edward Burne-Jones with important members of the Pre-Raphaelite movement in British arts and letters.



    Kipling spent the first years of his life in India, remembering it in later years as almost a paradise. “My first impression,” he wrote in his posthumously published autobiography Something of Myself for My Friends Known and Unknown, “is of daybreak, light and colour and golden and purple fruits at the level of my shoulder.” In 1871, however, his parents sent him and his sister Beatrice—called “Trix”—to England, partly to avoid health problems, but also so that the children could begin their schooling. Kipling and his sister were placed with the widow of an old Navy captain named Holloway at a boarding house called Lorne Lodge in Southsea, a suburb of Portsmouth. Kipling and Trix spent the better part of the next six years in that place, which they came to call the “House of Desolation.”

    ***************

    Blog on Rudyard Kipling

    (1.)

    Poem titled

    - Recessional

    Written by Rudyard Kipling-1897

    God of our fathers, known of old,

    Lord of our far-flung battle-line,

    Beneath whose awful Hand we hold

    Dominion over palm and pine—

    Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

    Lest we forget—lest we forget!



    The tumult and the shouting dies;

    The Captains and the Kings depart:

    Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,

    An humble and a contrite heart.



    Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

    Lest we forget—lest we forget!



    Far-called, our navies melt away;

    On dune and headland sinks the fire:

    Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

    Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!

    Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,

    Lest we forget—lest we forget!



    If, drunk with sight of power, we loose

    Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,

    Such boastings as the Gentiles use,

    Or lesser breeds without the Law—

    Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,

    Lest we forget—lest we forget!



    For heathen heart that puts her trust

    In reeking tube and iron shard,

    All valiant dust that builds on dust,

    And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,

    For frantic boast and foolish word—

    Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!

    --------------------------

    (2.)

    Mesopotamia

    BY RUDYARD KIPLING

    1917

    They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young,

    The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave:

    But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung,

    Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?



    They shall not return to us, the strong men coldly slain

    In sight of help denied from day to day:

    But the men who edged their agonies and chid them in their pain,

    Are they too strong and wise to put away?



    Our dead shall not return to us while Day and Night divide—

    Never while the bars of sunset hold.

    But the idle-minded overlings who quibbled while they died,

    Shall they thrust for high employments as of old?



    Shall we only threaten and be angry for an hour?

    When the storm is ended shall we find

    How softly but how swiftly they have sidled back to power

    By the favour and contrivance of their kind?



    Even while they soothe us, while they promise large amends,

    Even while they make a show of fear,

    Do they call upon their debtors, and take counsel with their friends,

    To conform and re-establish each career?



    Their lives cannot repay us—their death could not undo—

    The shame that they have laid upon our race.

    But the slothfulness that wasted and the arrogance that slew,

    Shall we leave it unabated in its place?

    ************

    (3.)

    https://www.poetryloverspage.com/poe...andth_man.html

    The Thousandth Man

    "SIMPLE SIMON" -- REWARDS AND FAIRIES



    One man in a thousand, Solomon says,

    Will stick more close than a brother.

    And it's worth while seeking him half your days

    If you find him before the other.

    Nine nundred and ninety-nine depend

    On what the world sees in you,

    But the Thousandth man will stand your friend

    With the whole round world agin you.



    'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show

    Will settle the finding for 'ee.

    Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go

    By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.

    But if he finds you and you find him.

    The rest of the world don't matter;

    For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim

    With you in any water.



    You can use his purse with no more talk

    Than he uses yours for his spendings,

    And laugh and meet in your daily walk

    As though there had been no lendings.

    Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call

    For silver and gold in their dealings;

    But the Thousandth Man h's worth 'em all,

    Because you can show him your feelings.



    His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,

    In season or out of season.

    Stand up and back it in all men's sight --

    With that for your only reason!

    Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide

    The shame or mocking or laughter,

    But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side

    To the gallows-foot -- and after!
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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  3. #32
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    Blog on: Mythology and Humanity, Literature Once Read In High School

    (1.)

    Of Mythology And The Tales Of The Seven Sisters



    Man that walks beneath winds of searching doom

    Ever seeking treasured filled rooms

    Therein lusting for all and all the more

    Drinking in war and its murderous roar.



    From words of a wizen sage- what is Life

    But a zagged cut from a rusty knife?



    From the dregs of a poisoned chalice,

    Whispers uttered in the king's palace

    Seeds of pain laced with life-moans of dread

    Within deep agonies of Hades' dead



    From words of a wizen sage- what is Life

    But a zagged cut from a rusty knife?



    Forbidden, wretched agonies of Hades

    Wondrous, bright glimmerings of the Pleiades

    Asterope weeping in night skies above

    Innocence ravaged, forcing her love.



    From words of a wizen sage- what is Life

    But a zagged cut from a rusty knife?



    Stars and tales of damaged gods of old

    Mankind believing such as it was told

    Yet existing upon this floating speck

    In greed's name, savaging earth, creating wrecks.



    From words of a wizen sage- what is Life

    But a zagged cut from a rusty knife?



    Zeus striding across towering mountains

    Commander of all life giving fountains

    Once a wrathful god but now just a myth

    Even He, Death cut with its mighty scythe.



    From words of a wizen sage- what is Life

    But a zagged cut from a rusty knife?


    Robert J. Lindley, 3-12-2021

    Rhyme, ( Wondrous Tales From The School Literature Of My Youth )

    Of Mythology and Humanity…

    (With Tribute given to Homer) , ( "The Iliad And The Odyssey")


    ************

    (2.)

    As Destiny And Fate, The Olympic Gods Destroyed



    As time plays its ancient dirge

    Did not Zeus fly down to sate his deep urge

    Not as a fallen god among mere men

    But ravenous pillager of women

    In such depraved deeds man still gave way

    Gathering in temples to his name pray

    And blindness held its grip on mortal souls

    Seen, fallacy mythology extols.



    Ancient Greeks believed in such Olympic truths

    As a model to mode their warrior youth

    Praising the gods for their powerful might

    Blinded to the truth denying true light

    In Nature's beauty they saw god faces

    Honoring such by Olympic races

    Man raced forward and its folly found

    Set about to Prometheus unbound.



    The gods so angered swift were their wraths

    Futile their standing in man's raging paths

    O' pity the tale of Olympic fall

    And Fate and Death's sad final curtain call

    For mankind saw they were not truly gods

    Left them to die as he stalwartly plods.



    Wherein mankind found yet another way.

    Leaving gods in temples bound to decay.



    Robert J. Lindley, 3-12-2021

    Rhyme, ( Wondrous Tales From The School Literature Of My Youth )

    Of Mythology And Humanity…

    (With Tribute given to Homer) , ( "The Iliad And The Odyssey")

    Note:

    Pleiades, in Greek mythology, the seven daughters of the Titan Atlas and the Oceanid Pleione: Maia, Electra, Taygete, Celaeno, Alcyone, Sterope, and Merope. They all had children by gods (except Merope, who married Sisyphus).


    ************

    https://www.britannica.com/topic/Ple...reek-mythology

    Pleiades

    Greek mythology

    WRITTEN BY

    The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica

    Encyclopaedia Britannica's editors oversee subject areas in which they have extensive knowledge, whether from years of experience gained by working on that content or via study for an advanced degree....

    Haiphong cyclone | tropical cyclone, Pacific Ocean [1881]

    Pleiades, in Greek mythology, the seven daughters of the Titan Atlas and the Oceanid Pleione: Maia, Electra, Taygete, Celaeno, Alcyone, Sterope, and Merope. They all had children by gods (except Merope, who married Sisyphus).

    mythology. Greek. Hermes. (Roman Mercury)

    BRITANNICA QUIZ

    A Study of Greek and Roman Mythology

    Who led the Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece? Who is the Roman equivalent of the Greek god Ares? From fruits to winged sandals, test your knowledge in this study of Greek and Roman mythology.

    The Pleiades eventually formed a constellation. One myth recounts that they all killed themselves out of grief over the death of their sisters, the Hyades. Another explains that after seven years of being pursued by Orion, a Boeotian giant, they were turned into stars by Zeus. Orion became a constellation, too, and continued to pursue the sisters across the sky. The faintest star of the Pleiades was thought to be either Merope, who was ashamed of loving a mortal, or Electra, grieving for Troy, the city of Dardanus, her son with Zeus.

    *********************

    https://www.naic.edu/~gibson/pleiade...ades_myth.html

    Pleiades Mythology

    The mythology associated with the Pleiades cluster is extensive; Burnham alone devotes eight pages to the subject, and Allen more than twice that number (see references). Here only Greek legends are presented. Even so, these are manifold and often contradictory, being patched together from many different cultures over a long period of time. Further uncertainty is added by most Pleiads sharing names with otherwise unrelated mythological characters. So enjoy, but please do not consider this information to be infallible.

    Possible Name Derivations

    plein, `to sail', making Pleione `sailing queen' and her daughters `sailing ones.' The cluster's conjunction with the sun in spring and opposition in fall marked the start and end of the summer sailing season in ancient Greece.

    pleos, `full', of which the plural is `many', appropriate for a star cluster.

    peleiades, `flock of doves', consistent with the sisters' mythological transformation.

    Genealogy

    The Pleiad(e)s were the seven daughters of Atlas and Pleione, and half-sisters of the Hyades, whose mother was Æthra (`bright sky'; a different Æthra than the mother of Theseus). They were perhaps also half-sisters of the Hesperides, who were daughters of either Night alone, or Atlas and Hesperis (`evening'), or Ceto and Phorcys. Both Pleione and Æthra were Oceanids, daughters of Oceanus and Tethys, the titans who ruled the outer seas before being replaced by Poseidon. Atlas (`he who dares' or `suffers'; from the Indo-European tel-, tla-, `to lift, support, bear'), another titan, led their war against the gods, and was afterward condemned by Zeus to hold up the heavens on his shoulders. The Pleiades were also nymphs in the train of Artemis, and together with the seven Hyades (`rainmakers' or `piglets'; individual Hyad names are not fully agreed upon) were called the Atlantides, Dodonides, or Nysiades, nursemaids and teachers to the infant Bacchus. The Hesperides (`nymphs of the west'), apparently not counted in this, were only three, and dwelled in an orchard of Hera's, from which Heracles fetched golden apples in his eleventh labor.

    Individual Sisters

    For each, a name translation is given first, followed by available biographical information, and parallel stories of like-named characters.

    Alcyone or Halcyone - `queen who wards off evil [storms]' -

    Seduced by Poseidon and gave birth to either Hyrieus (the name of Orion's father, but perhaps not the same Hyrieus) or Anthas, founder of Anthæa, Hyperea, and Halicarnassus.



    Another Alcyone, daughter of Æolus (guardian of the winds) and Ægiale, married Ceyx of Trachis; the two jokingly called each other Hera and Zeus, vexing those gods, who drowned Ceyx in a storm at sea; Alcyone threw herself into the sea at the news, and was transformed into a halcyon (kingfisher). Legend has it the halcyon hen buries her dead mate in the winter before laying her eggs in a compact nest and setting it adrift on the sea; Æolus forbids the nest to be disturbed, so the water is calm for 14 days centered on the winter solstice, called the Halcyon Days. The actual bird does not build nests however; instead the story probably derives from an old pagan observance of the turning season, with the moon-goddess conveying a dead symbolic king of the old year to his resting place. Though this Alcyone and the Pleiad Alcyone appear to be separate individuals, they may be related: in 2000 BC, a vigorous period of ancient astronomy, the Pleiades rose nearly four hours earlier than they do today for the same time of year, and were overhead at nightfall on the winter solstice, when the Halcyon supposedly nested; their conjunction with the sun during spring equinoxes at that time may have something to do with the association of the cluster with birds, which are often used as symbols of life and renewal.



    Asterope or Sterope - `lightning', `twinkling', `sun-face', `stubborn-face' (Indo-European ster-, `star', `stellar', `asterisk', etc.) -

    In some accounts, ravished by Ares and gave birth to Oenomaus, king of Pisa. In others, Oenomaus was her husband, and they had a beautiful daughter, Hippodaima, and three sons, Leucippus, Hippodamus, and Dysponteus, founder of Dyspontium; or, Oenomaus may instead have had these children with Euarete, daughter of Acrisius.



    Another Asterope was daughter of the river Cebren.



    Still another was daughter of Porthaön, and may have been the mother of the Sirens, who lured sailors to their deaths with their enchanting singing.



    A possible alternate name is Asterië (`of the starry sky' or `of the sun'), which may also be a name for the creatrix of the universe, Eurynome, in the Pelasgian myth. Graves mentions her as a Pleiad only in passing, with no other mention in the other references. Perhaps she was at one time a Pleiad when different names were used, or an earlier version of Sterope, whose name is similar; or perhaps Graves is incorrect. He also in passing calls the titan or oak-goddess Dione a Pleiad, without explanation or corroboration. Does the term have a broader meaning in some contexts?



    Celæno - `swarthy' -

    Had sons Lycus (``wolf'') and Chimærus (``he-goat'') by Prometheus. No other data.



    Electra or Eleckra - `amber', `shining', `bright' (Indo-European wleik-, `to flow, run', as a liquid); electrum is an alloy of silver and gold, and means amber in Latin, as does the Greek elektron; Thales of Miletus noted in 600 BC that a rubbed piece of amber will attract bits of straw, a manifestation of the effects of static electricity (outer charge stripping via friction), and perhaps the origin of the modern term -

    Wife of Corythus; seduced by Zeus and gave birth to Dardanus, founder of Troy, ancestor of Priam and his house. Called Atlantis by Ovid, personifying the family. May also, by Thaumas, be the mother of the Harpies, foul bird-women who lived in a Cretan cave and harried criminals, but this could be a different ocean-nymph of the same name.



    Another Electra was a daughter of Oedipus, though this may not be the same Oedipus who killed his father and married his mother. She is said to be mother of Dardanus and Iason.



    Yet another Electra was a daughter of Agamemnon and Clytæmnestra, with an alternate name of Laodice, and with brother Orestes and sisters Chrysothemis and Iphigeneia (or Iphianassa), though the latter sister may have been Clytæmnestra's niece, adopted from Theseus and Helen. Agamemnon was king of Mycenæ and led the Greeks against Troy; he was murdered at his return by Clytæmnestra and her lover Ægisthus, both of whom Orestes and Electra killed in revenge, whence the psychological term `Electra complex'. This Electra was also wife to the peasant Pylades, and bore him Medon and Strophius the Second.



    Maia - `grandmother', `mother', `nurse'; `the great one' (Latin) -

    Eldest and most beautiful of the sisters; a mountain nymph in Arcadia. Seduced by Zeus and gave birth to Hermes. Later became foster-mother to Arcas, son of Zeus and Callisto, during the period while Callisto was a bear, and before she and Arcas were placed in the heavens by Zeus (she as Ursa Major, he as either Boötes or Ursa Minor).



    Another Maia was the Roman goddess of spring, daughter of Faunus and wife of Vulcan (his Greek counterpart, Hephæstus, married Aphrodite instead). Farmers were cautioned not to sow grain before the time of her setting, or conjunction with the sun. The month of May is named after her, and is coincidentally(?) the month in which the solar conjunction happens. By our modern calendar, the conjunction occurred in April in early Roman times, with the shift since then due to the precession of the Earth's axis; but calendars too have changed over time, especially before the time of Julius Caesar, so the month and the cluster's solar conjunction may have lined up then as well.

    Merope - `eloquent', `bee-eater', `mortal' -

    Married Sisyphus (se-sophos, `very wise'), son of Æolus, grandson of Deucalion (the Greek Noah), and great-grandson of Prometheus. She bore Sisyphus sons Glaucus, Ornytion, and Sinon; she is sometimes also said to be mother of Dædalus, though others in the running are Alcippe and Iphinoë. Sisyphus founded the city of Ephyre (Corinth) and later revealed Zeus's rape of Ægina to her father Asopus (a river), for which Zeus condemned Sisyphus to roll a huge stone up a hill in Hades, only to have it roll back down each time the task was nearly done. Glaucus (or Glaukos) was father of Bellerophon, and in one story was killed by horses maddened by Aphrodite because he would not let them breed. He also led Lycian troops in the Trojan War, and in the Iliad was tricked by the Greek hero Diomedes into exchanging his gold armor for Diomedes' brass, the origin of the term `Diomedian swap'. Another Glaucus was a fisherman of Boeotia who became a sea-god gifted with prophecy and instructed Apollo in soothsaying. Still another Glaucus was a son of Minos who drowned in a vat of honey and was revived by the seer Polyidos, who instructed Glaucus in divination, but, angry at being made a prisoner, caused the boy to forget everything when Polyidos finally left Crete. The word glaukos means gleaming, bluish green or gray, perhaps describing the appearance of a blind eye if glaucoma (cataract) derives from it. Is the name Glaucus a reference to sight, or blindness, physical or otherwise? It is also curious that meropia is a condition of partial blindness.

    Another Merope was daughter of Dionysus's son Oenopion, king of Chios; Orion fell in love with her, and Oenopion refused to give her up, instead having him blinded. Orion regained his sight and sought vengeance, but was killed by Artemis, or by a scorpion, or by some other means (many versions).

    Yet another Merope and her sister Cleothera (with alternate names of Cameiro and Clytië for the two of them) were orphaned daughters of Pandareus.

    Still another was mother of Æpytus by Cresphontes, king of Messenia. Her husband was murdered by Polyphontes, who claimed both her and the throne, but was later killed by Æpytus to avenge his father's death.



    One last, more often known as Periboea, was wife of Polybus, king of Corinth. The two of them adopted the infant Oedipus after his father Laius left him to die, heeding a prophecy that his son would kill him, which, of course, he eventually did.



    Taygete or Taygeta - ? tanygennetos, `long-necked' -

    Seduced by Zeus and gave birth to Lacedæmon, founder of Sparta, to which she was thus an important goddess. In some versions of the story, she was unwilling to yield to Zeus, and was disguised by Artemis as a hind (female red deer) to elude him; but he eventually caught her and begot on her Lacedæmon, whereupon she hanged herself.



    Another Taygete was niece to the first. She married Lacedæmon and bore Himerus, who drowned himself in a river after Aphrodite caused him to deflower his sister Cleodice. One of the Taygetes may have been mother to Tantalus, who was tormented in Hades with thirst and hunger for offending the gods; however his parentage is uncertain; his mother may instead be Pluto (not the Roman version of Hades), daughter of either Cronus and Rhea or Oceanus and Tethys, and his father Zeus or Tmolus.



    Astromorphosis

    One day the great hunter Orion saw the Pleiads (perhaps with their mother, or perhaps just one of them; see Merope above) as they walked through the Boeotian countryside, and fancied them. He pursued them for seven years, until Zeus answered their prayers for delivery and transformed them into birds (doves or pidgeons), placing them among the stars. Later on, when Orion was killed (many conflicting stories as to how), he was placed in the heavens behind the Pleiades, immortalizing the chase.

    Lost Pleiad

    The `lost Pleiad' legend came about to explain why only six are easily visible to the unaided eye (I have my own thoughts on this). This sister is variously said to be Electra, who veiled her face at the burning of Troy, appearing to mortals afterwards only as a comet; or Merope, who was shamed for marrying a mortal; or Celæno, who was struck by a thunderbolt. Missing Pleiad myths also appear in other cultures, prompting Burnham to speculate stellar variability (Pleione?) as a physical basis. It is difficult to know if the modern naming pays attention to any of this. Celæno is the faintest at present, but the "star" Asterope is actually two stars, each of which is fainter than Celæno if considered separately.

    References

    The information above was taken from:

    Burnham's Celestial Handbook, Revised & Enlarged Edition, Robert Burnham Jr., 1976, Dover Publications Inc.

    Star Names: Their Lore and Meaning, Richard Hinckley Allen, 1899, 1963, Dover reprint (Note: Allen's text on individual Pleiades stars can be found at Alcyone Systems.)

    Star Lore of All Ages, William Tyler Olcott, 1911, 1931, G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York

    Star Tales, Ian Ridpath, 1988, Universe Books

    The Age of Fable, Thomas Bullfinch, 1942, Heritage Press

    The Greek Myths, Robert Graves, 1960, Pelican Books

    The Reader's Encyclopedia 2/e, William Rose Benet, 1965, Thomas Y. Crowell Company

    American Heritage Dictionary, 1965

    Fundamentals of Physics 2/e, David Halliday and Robert Resnick, 1986, John Wiley & Sons, New York

    ************

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_epic_poems

    List of epic poems

    From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    Jump to navigationJump to search

    This list can be compared with two others, national epic and list of world folk-epics.[1]

    This is a list of epic poems.

    Ancient epics (to 500)

    Before the 8th century BC

    Epic of Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian mythology)

    Epic of Lugalbanda (including Lugalbanda in the Mountain Cave and Lugalbanda and the Anzud Bird, Mesopotamian mythology)

    Epic of Enmerkar (including Enmerkar and the Lord of Aratta and Enmerkar and En-suhgir-ana, Mesopotamian mythology)

    Atrahasis (Mesopotamian mythology)

    Enuma Elish (Babylonian mythology)

    The Descent of Inanna into the Underworld (Mesopotamian mythology)

    Legend of Keret (Ugaritic mythology)

    Cycle of Kumarbi (Hurrian mythology)

    8th to 6th century BC

    Iliad, ascribed to Homer (Greek mythology)

    Odyssey, ascribed to Homer (Greek mythology)

    Works and Days, ascribed to Hesiod (Greek mythology)

    Theogony, ascribed to Hesiod (Greek mythology)

    Shield of Heracles, ascribed to Hesiod (Greek mythology)

    Catalogue of Women, ascribed to Hesiod (Greek mythology; only fragments survive)

    Cypria, Aethiopis, Little Iliad, Iliupersis, Nostoi and Telegony, forming the so-called Epic Cycle (only fragments survive)

    Oedipodea, Thebaid, Epigoni and Alcmeonis, forming the so-called Theban Cycle (only fragments survive)

    A series of poems ascribed to Hesiod during antiquity (of which only fragments survive): Aegimius (alternatively ascribed to Cercops of Miletus), Astronomia, Descent of Perithous, Idaean Dactyls (almost completely lost), Megala Erga, Megalai Ehoiai, Melampodia and Wedding of Ceyx

    Capture of Oechalia, ascribed to Homer or Creophylus of Samos during antiquity (only fragment survives)

    Phocais, ascribed to Homer during antiquity (only fragment survives)

    Titanomachy ascribed to Eumelus of Corinth (only fragment survives)

    Danais (written by one of the cyclic poets and from which the Danaid tetralogy of Aeschylus draws its material), Minyas and Naupactia, almost completely lost

    5th to 4th century BC

    Heracleia, tells of the labors of Heracles, almost completely lost, written by Panyassis (Greek mythology)

    Mahabharata, ascribed to Veda Vyasa (Indian mythology)

    Ramayana, ascribed to Valmiki (Indian mythology)

    3rd century BC

    Argonautica by Apollonius of Rhodes (Greek mythology)

    2nd century BC

    Annales by Ennius (Roman history; only fragments survive)

    1st century BC

    De rerum natura by Lucretius (natural philosophy)

    Georgics by Virgil (didactic poem)

    Aeneid by Virgil (Roman mythology)

    1st century AD

    Metamorphoses by Ovid (Greek and Roman mythology)

    Pharsalia by Lucan (Roman history; unfinished)

    Argonautica by Gaius Valerius Flaccus (Roman poet, Greek mythology; incomplete)

    Punica by Silius Italicus (Roman history)

    Thebaid and Achilleid by Statius (Roman poet, Greek mythology; latter poem incomplete)
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Quote Originally Posted by LongTermGuy View Post


    Great images my friend...
    One for each night of the week...
    If a mere mortal could last that long.--Tyr
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Current blog listing as of today..
    I have 5 blogs listed as -HOT...
    Although one blog by my good friend , Panagiota Romios
    is not my blog. It is a blog of birthday wishes given me.
    My other blog, titled--
    "The magnificence of the Romanticism Era in British Poetry" 2/10/ 2021
    having just fallen off the list due to its length as presented on the site.

    1. Hot Blog-
    Mythology and Humanity, Literature Once Read In High School 3/12/2021 Robert Lindley

    2. Hot Blog-
    Happy Birthday Robert Lindley From Your Many Admirers 3/9/2021 Panagiota Romios

    3. Hot Blog-
    Blog On The Genius Of Rudyard Kipling 2/28/2021 Robert Lindley

    4. Hot Blog
    Blog on The Great Poet-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 2/18/2021 Robert Lindley

    5. Hot Blog
    Blog on
    The magnificence of the Romanticism Era in American Poetry 2/13/2021 Robert Lindley
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    New Blog

    The Influence Of Greek Mythology Upon Poetry And Modern World



    ************************************************** ***********



    Polus D'orumagdos Ororei And The Way Of Victory



    Grave deeply, as the storm-gods clamor round

    Here lieth a mortal whom the thundering sound

    Of heroes maddened, one whose heart took fire

    At their slow march about the headland pyre,

    Chanting their sorrows in the noblest tongue

    Earth ever knew, one who had been - among

    The sailors in the living ships of old,

    Tugged at the oars with them, and felt the cold

    Of wintry night-seas heaving over the prow

    In the shadows of the moon ; and now

    HE hath no fear of any death,

    For he hath seen men pitifully die

    A thousand ways, and patiently awaiteth

    Whatever reckoning shalt draweth nigh.

    Robert J. Lindley, 7-24-2020

    ******

    The Way Of Victory



    I longed for wandering by those islands

    Where ever blue rapturous sunlight beams ;

    Sought a mountain home, for sleep and silence

    And gold-crested star-winds throughout my dreams ;

    In deep tumult, thunder of rolling tides,

    Far below uplands where Holy rest abides,

    He sent victory, where pilgrim road leads

    Through murmuring crowds, through cities' rash mobs,

    Through reality, human thoughts and deeds,

    Through smoke, dust, agony, -red sodden ways

    Where reapers harvest and toil dauntless days,

    Sea of sorrows grip, death-winds moaning past

    Soul resplendent, triumphant to the last.

    Robert J. Lindley, 7-17- 2020

    ********





    The Artistry of the Homeric Simile

    Scott, William C. (William Clyde), 1937-

    Dartmouth College Library



    Hanover, NH 03755, USA



    © 2009 by William C. Scott



    https://www.dartmouth.edu/library/di...ing/scott2009/





    William C. Scott



    The Artistry

    of the

    Homeric Simile



    Dartmouth College Library

    &

    Dartmouth College Press

    Hanover, New Hampshire





    Published by

    University Press of New England

    Hanover and London



    Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data



    Scott, William C. (William Clyde), 1937–

    The artistry of the Homeric simile / William C. Scott.

    p. cm.



    Includes bibliographical references and index.



    ISBN 978-1-58465-797-2 (pbk.: alk. paper)



    DOI: 10.1349/ddlp.769



    1. Homer—Literary style. 2. Greek language—Figures

    of speech. 3. Oral-formulaic analysis. 4. Oral tradition—

    Greece. 5. Rhetoric, Ancient. 6. Simile. I. Title.



    PA4177.S5S28 2009



    883'.01—dc22 2009016159



    Preface

    The similes in Homer are treasure troves. They describe scenes of Greek life that are not presented in their simplest form anywhere else: landscapes and seascapes; storms and calm weather; fighting among animals; aspects of civic life such as disputes, athletic contests, horse races, community entertainment, women carrying on their daily lives, and men running their farms and orchards. But the similes also show Homer dealing with his tradition. They are basic paratactic additions to the narrative showing how the Greeks found and developed parallels between two scenes, each of which elucidated and interpreted the other, and then expressed those scenes in effective poetic language.





    Hanover, New Hampshire



    W.C.S.



    -ix-



    The Artistry of the Homeric Simile

    -1-





    Chapter One



    Similes, the Shield of Achilles,

    and Other Digressions

    Similes are often repeated with very little change, they

    accumulate when there is no need, and they compare where

    there is nothing comparable. Great art would consist in making

    one large and highly appropriate simile. Homer becomes too

    carried away with his own similes and forgets narrative.

    M. de la Motte1



    In the eighteenth book of Homer’s Iliad Hephaistos makes a new shield for Achilles.2 The description of this shield is justly famed as a small masterwork in its own right as well as being the prototype for later poets and writers who include art objects within their works.3 The most notable ancient examples are The Shield of Heracles, the shields in the central scene of Aeschylus’ Seven against Thebes, the cup in Theocritus’ first Idyll, the tapestry in Catullus’ epyllion on the marriage of Peleus and Thetis (c. 64), and the shield of Aeneas in book 8 of The Aeneid. These ekphrases occupy so large a portion of each work that they are necessarily major elements in the overall design.4



    Homer often describes objects and implements in the course of his narrative, even pausing in the midst of events to present a detailed picture of some article drawn from the background. Book 11 of the Iliad contains three examples. The first and second are the descriptions of the breastplate and the shield of Agamemnon embedded in his arming scene (11.19–40); the third is "Nestor’s cup" (11.632–37). The presentation of each object is sufficiently detailed that it has been possible to find fragmentary yet often rather precise remains that parallel the verbal descriptions.5 These descriptions focus sharply on physical features. While they may interrupt an action, they do so only long enough to permit a listing of the elements that would meet the eye of the observer. Such quick sketches of a person’s possessions, however, strengthen the characterization being developed in the larger passage. The

    -2-

    highlighting of Agamemnon’s battle gear introduces the king as a heroic personage and reinforces his status as a major warrior at the moment he begins his aristeia.6 The ornate cup that Nestor alone can lift endows him with extra strength and stature at the moment when he is going to give crucial advice to Patroclus.7



    One such piece described in the poems, however, will never be successfully reproduced even with considerable effort and ingenuity, and that is the Shield of Achilles. Special problems abound: the figures are in motion and small vignettes are in the process of evolving; this shield will not hold still for a static modeling session but continues to shift and change before the eyes of the observer. Thus though several commentaries feature a basic drawing of the shield that locates the individual scenes within the surrounding border of the river Ocean, sketches of the events described in each scene are omitted.8 The conclusion is inevitable: while there may have been shields that resembled the Shield of Achilles in basic shape and complexity, this particular shield never did and never could have actually existed because it is as much a product of the poet’s imagination as the narrative itself. The people on the Shield live and breathe, events develop over time, and there is such a collection of varied subject matter that it probably could never have been arrayed in its entirety on the surface of any one weapon. In addition, the presentation of the Shield is complex. It is not only a verbal description of the contents; it also involves the medium, the process of creation, the maker and his motives, and the interpreter.9



    Once it is clear that Achilles’ Shield is more a creation of the poet than of the forge, a new set of revealing parallels can be sought. These would be imaginative constructs that interrupt the ongoing narrative in order to introduce a scene developed within its own clearly bounded framework. An obvious example is the tale of Odysseus’ visit to his maternal grandfather, Autolycus, in book 19 of the Odyssey (392–466).



    This story falls into three segments: the naming of the baby Odysseus, the reception of the young boy at his grandfather’s palace, and his wounding by the boar. Each confirms an element in Odysseus’ characterization that was present from an early age. Autolycus is known for…..

    ********************

    Links





    Scott. C. The Artistry of the Homeric Simile - Dartmouth Collegehttps://www.dartmouth.edu › scott2009 › ocm318673021

    by WC Scott · 2009 · Cited by 95 — The simile covers this moment in a different way than a factual report would: ... that testify to the resourcefulness and strength of other lions who emerge victorious over men and ... Orumagdos ororei describes both woodcutters and warriors (Aristarchus). ... The Shield of Achilles: Ends of the Iliad and Beginnings of the Polis.



    https://www.bisd303.org/cms/lib3/WA0...t%20Poetry.pdf



    https://www.coursera.org/learn/modpo



    https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poe...iam-wordsworth



    https://www.cs.mcgill.ca/~rwest/wiki...ish_poetry.htm



    https://www.encyclopedia.com/literat...ral/classicism
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    First Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity
    Blog Posted:5/15/2021 7:31:00 AM
    First Creation- A Poet's Blog -

    On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity

    (Blog on poetry, its depths and man's search for eternity)


    **********************

    FAMOUS QUOTES:



    Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.

    Henry Van Dyke

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

    Khalil Gibran

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity.

    John Milton

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    The hope of eternal life is not to be taken up upon slight grounds. It is a subject to be settled between God and your own soul; settled for eternity. A supposed hope, and nothing more, will prove your ruin.

    Ellen G. White

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.

    Henry David Thoreau

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    Death is not an event in life: we do not live to experience death. If we take eternity to mean not infinite temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present.

    Ludwig Wittgenstein

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.

    Madame de Stael

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.

    A. E. Housman

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    What love we've given, we'll have forever. What love we fail to give, will be lost for all eternity.

    Leo Buscaglia

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    Every action of your life touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.

    Edwin Hubbel Chapin

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    If you want to know why the coast is such an inspirational place, ask Herman Melville, Jack London, Nordhoff and Hall, Robert Louis Stevenson or Joseph Conrad. It's a glimpse of eternity. It invites rumination, the relentless whisper of the tide against the shore.

    John Cooper Clarke

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    A life once spent is irrevocable. It will remain to be contemplated through eternity. If it be marked with sins, the marks will be indelible. If it has been a useless life, it can never be improved. Such it will stand forever and ever. The same may be said of each day.

    Adoniram Judson

    Read more at https://www.brainyquote.com/topics/eternity-quotes



    **************************************



    (1A.)

    https://oldenglishpoetry.camden.rutg...-gifts-of-men/

    The Gifts of Men



    There are many gifts of the youthful apparent

    across the earth, those that the soul-bearing carry

    in their brains, just as the God of Armies here,

    the Measurer so powerfully, has doled out unto humanity

    given as a unique present, sending them wide afield,

    his own privileges, and every one of them

    may be taken up by some of those living among the people. (ll. 1-7)



    There are no men upon the earth so blessed with misery,

    nor so moderate of prosperity, so craven of spirit,

    nor so delayed of courage, that the granter of grace

    should deprive them of every skill of the mind,

    or mighty deed, wise in wit or in wordy statements,

    lest they be hopeless in all matters—

    those which God wrought in this worldly life,

    all these gracious gifts—God would never deem

    that any should become so wretched. (ll 8-17)…



    ************************************

    (1.B.)

    https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eternity-2/

    Robert Herrick

    Eternity



    O years! and age! farewell:

    Behold I go,

    Where I do know

    Infinity to dwell.



    And these mine eyes shall see

    All times, how they

    Are lost i' th' sea

    Of vast eternity:--

    Where never moon shall sway

    The stars; but she,

    And night, shall be

    Drown'd in one endless day.

    --- Robert Herrick

    ************************************************** ***********



    (1.)

    Earth, Mortal Life, Is It A Prelude To Eternity




    The real challenge, the virgin path to take

    Youth and its mysteries - things we forsake

    As rising to greet dawn and feel its rays

    Sense of peace, hope that it forever stays

    That brief time just before golden sun sets

    Those fleeting loves, with age one never forgets.



    The real challenge, the virgin path to take.

    Youth and its mysteries - things we forsake.



    That first day, seeing a forever beach

    Sweet new love, once thought so far beyond reach

    Princess met me, holding my trembling hand

    We both barely sixteen, walking white sands

    That brief time just before golden sun sets

    That first glowing love, that one never forgets.



    The real challenge, the virgin path to take.

    Youth and its mysteries - things we forsake.



    And the now, when a billion years has flown

    The in-between, ahead lies great unknown

    When daylight yields to a powerful dark

    To a bloody battle we must embark

    That brief time just before golden sun sets

    That first glowing love, that one never forgets.



    The real challenge, the virgin path to take.

    Youth and its mysteries - things we forsake.



    As the path into a golden sunset

    Life was not about, treasures one could get

    It was the joy of love and being free

    And promise of one day- eternity.



    The real challenge, the virgin path to take.

    Youth and its mysteries - things we forsake.

    Robert J. Lindley,

    Rhyme, ( A Look Well Beyond Life's Mere Fleeting Blink )


    *************

    (2.)

    A Quest Finished, An Epic Truth Found




    There in fertile green valley of contemplation

    Yet lies those eager seeds of wicked damnation

    Sprung from the dark-set and evil heart born of greed

    Pleasures that lurk to strike, as a snake in the weeds

    That which mankind embraces in its quest for more

    Ever seeking to steal gold from paradise shores.



    There in swollen streams yet awaits ready to pounce

    Wanton greed that measures all by the golden ounce

    And ravaging darkness born in a world of hate

    Firm and loyal ally with wicked hands of Fate

    That which mankind embraces in its quest for more

    Ever seeking to steal gold from paradise shores.



    Surely as truth weds divine handmaidens of light.

    Faith and Love conquers terrors of the darkest night.

    Robert J. Lindley,

    Sonnet,

    ( Wherein Hope And Faith, Seeds Great Harvests Of Eternity )


    ***********

    (3.)

    A Winter Night At The Old Cabin



    white banks, frozen stream

    trees staring at naked limbs

    full moon smiling down

    Robert J. Lindley,

    haiku,

    ( poetic thoughts from a scene never forgotten)
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 05-15-2021 at 09:38 AM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Second Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity
    Blog Posted:5/19/2021 10:28:00 AM
    Second Creation-


    A Poet's Blog -

    On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity


    (Blog on poetry, its depths and man's search for eternity)

    **************************

    Quote- April 9th, 1979

    "On Shelley and Keats",

    "One was poetry's truest heart, the other was poetry's truest beats".. RJL.



    (1.)

    Wrought Of Man, Destined For Its Decay



    Wrought of man, destined for its decay.

    Created from earth, Fate cries of no worth.



    And in that cold, darkened certainty

    Lies truth that forbids bought eternity

    First that infant breath, taken to survive

    Then wailing cry, shouting I am alive.



    Wrought of man, destined for its decay.

    Created from earth, Fate cries of no worth.



    Mortals doomed to ever seek power

    And over high mountains seek to tower

    Yet dark seeded with hopeless vanity

    Born into evil, - all humanity.



    Wrought of man, destined for its decay.

    Created from earth, Fate cries of no worth.



    In these shallow coverings, our clay shells

    Ever taking, as lustful greed impels

    Embracing those vices this realm demands

    In blindness destroying air sea and lands.



    Wrought of man, destined for its decay.

    Created from earth, Fate cries of no worth.



    Robert J. Lindley,

    Rhyme,

    ( Tribute to Shelley and his magnificent poem- " Ozymandias" )


    ************

    (2.)



    The Quest, The Discovery, The Great Revelation



    From sun's bright glow he went into valley below

    With dedication and courage in tow

    There menacing shadows, rocky terrain unknown

    In ancient forest, thistles and vines overgrown

    He not yet the brave hero he was soon to be

    Thinking should he survive the world would surely see.



    Farther and farther down he went yet unafraid

    With his bright golden shield and ever trusty blade

    At last, with great relief entering level ground

    Having come upon some ancient burial mounds

    Each huge grave having a massive black-cut headstone

    He felt here, more than just sinister undertones.



    Ahead he saw where half a mountain had come down

    Edged by broken remnants of a crushed town

    Crossing there he saw signs of a great battle fought

    And shuddered at great carnage as was once wrought

    Ahead he saw- a palace of shimmering gold

    Same as was in childhood fairy tales he was told.



    Crossing a small stream to a temple he then came

    There was a tall stone pillar bearing just one name

    Etched in quite deep, were words praising that great king

    Proclaiming -beware over man my wrath I bring

    I the world's most powerful ruler shall smite all

    Under my banner even great giants must soon fall.



    Ahead seventy steps lead to a huge headstone

    Carved were these sad words, here rest the dead king's bones

    He that had soon found, Fate had far different plans

    Than those shallow dreams born to such an evil man

    His words angered destiny and thus its wrath

    And death had quickly rushed across his vain path!



    With that find, hero turned to retrace his path

    For wisdom cried, dare thee to test Fate's dark wrath

    Hero returned, seeing the valley below

    Kneeling he then thanked God - for letting him know

    How He had supreme rule over this evil world

    And He had never, angry lightning bolts hurled.



    Robert J. Lindley, started 3-23-2015, continued,

    8-09- 2019, completed 5-13-2021…..



    Note: sometimes these things just take me what

    seems like forever to find the path to finishing them.


    ****************

    Yet Eager Heart, Its Poet's Ink So Bleeds



    In my youth, I dreamed a thousand deaths

    Swore I, thousand curses under my breath

    And life's old memories now screams at me

    Ah my dearest boy, soon you will all see

    Now hold your breath until you cry with me

    All was fantasy, life was never free!



    Yet eager heart, its poet's ink so bleeds

    Onto page and feeds soul's tenderest needs!



    There was a wandering child, seeking more

    Life beat him, he kicked in Fated doors

    From dawn's breath- he saw glints of paradise

    He began to think world would soon be nice

    An error, one that would so dearly cost

    For path it gave- his true sight he soon lost!



    Yet eager heart, its poet's ink so bleeds

    Onto page and feeds soul's tenderest needs!



    In those dreams, youth found no treasure at all

    Just a life leading towards chained halls

    Woe! Years danced, quickly away they flew

    Then nights became blacker, morn's breath did too

    Dreams all faded and dear love ran away

    And so soon future's sweet hope lost its way!



    Yet eager heart, its poet's ink so bleeds

    Onto page and feeds soul's tenderest needs!

    Robert J. Lindley,
    Rhyme- (The Depths Of Heart And Dreams That Wandered In )


    *************************

    And Fate And Time Were Gaily Conspiring



    Swimming that desert the waves were splashing,

    Back in the shadows sharp teeth were gnashing

    There was no comfort in the great knowing

    Hell to pay as black-winds were a'blowing

    Silence screamed, nobody could hear it

    World exploding, blind I did not fear it

    And Fate and Time were gaily conspiring

    We danced forth foolishly admiring!



    We that were young saw only false visions.

    Shot our blank-guns with such imprecision.



    Life was a sad, a sad little parade

    And in it, world's end was already made

    New-ghosts they came along just a'prancing

    Watching the innocent youth romancing

    Life its heartbeats sad and so damn blinding

    And those long sharp shadow teeth were grinding

    There was no comfort in the great knowing

    Hell to pay, as black-winds were a'blowing!



    We that were young saw only false visions.

    Shot our blank-guns with such imprecision.



    And life was a dark, a dark little parade.

    And in it, world's end was already made!



    And Fate and Time were gaily conspiring.

    We danced forth foolishly admiring!



    Robert J. Lindley, July 23rd 1979, March 11th 1985

    MAY 18-2021

    Rhyme, ( edited version of an ancient poem)




    ********************

    I Was A Poet But Never Was I Complete



    I was a poet but never was I complete

    I had the heart and the sad bruises on my feet

    But never was I free from those hard aching blues

    I fought the raging world,

    paid me some ghastly dues!



    I was a man, ink stains splattered in my head

    I a wanderer, ghosts dancing around my bed

    Midnight came, with darkness singing its devilry

    Dawn came ending,

    all of night's stomping revelry!



    I was a warrior, with both sword and sharp pen

    I had a lost soul, as did many other men

    Time, its flowing sands blasted my old, leather hide

    I fought the idea,

    to ever end this long ride!



    I was a poet but never was I complete

    I had the heart and the sad bruises on my feet

    But never was I free from those hard aching blues

    I fought the raging world,

    paid me some ghastly dues!



    Robert J. Lindley,

    Rhyme, 5-19-2021

    ( With Candles Burned Out, The Night Cried The Loudest)



    Note:

    (As the mystical light faded, with it went the promise of immortality)

    For the lost, the weak, the hard fallen came only poet's fresh ink

    and sometimes drops of sad, sad aching insanity....
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 05-19-2021 at 12:36 PM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Now both of my recent blogs are Hot.
    Both are presented here at this site. --Tyr



    Hot Blog Second Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity 5/19/2021 Robert Lindley ****
    Poetry and Prose CLOSE COUNTRY COUSINS 5/17/2021 Brian Strand
    Ups and downs 5/16/2021 Bradley Smith
    Address of Poetry 6-Much in Many Forms 5/16/2021 Sally Eslinger
    SHAVUOT a historic event 5/16/2021 Brian Strand
    Hot Blog First Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity 5/15/2021 Robert Lindley****
    ************************************************** ************************************************** *****

    Third and Final blog in that ongoing series ( Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity) is now about halfway complete.
    Has been a hard, even a major task to do these three.
    Not likely to ever repeat such any time soon.
    What with my old age beating on me so and my life and family taking up so much of my free time..
    My great hope is that the poet's pen never fails me-even if it does cry out for rest from time to time.
    As this old age -- just aint no happy picnic, but the alternative this old man does not relish... --Tyr
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    Quick blog -on a current reading I am in the middle of this weekend.
    Blog Posted:5/23/2021 7:04:00 AM

    An Excerpt from--

    Clarity and Obscurity: The Essences of Classical & Modern Poetry ~ The Imaginative Conservative



    II.

    If philosophy and rhetoric do not belong in poetry, all that remains is the raw emotional effect of the language itself. The modernist conception, which sees the effect of language as the true substance of poetry, leaves no room for philosophizing. Or rather, it makes its philosophy about the poem—and therefore external to the poem—rather than within the poem. In this way modernist poetry, which bills its opacity as depth, is actually superficial.

    To illustrate the modernist conception of poetry as superficial, few better examples are available than Hart Crane’s “Voyages.” While on its surface the poem might seem a poor comparison to Shelley’s “Mont Blanc,” as its poems are indisputably love poems. To be sure, contemporary critics, mired in the dominance of sexual identity politics, tend to view Crane’s “Voyages” as primarily expressions of homosexual love. But Crane himself characterized them as primarily “sea poems” and only secondarily as “also love poems.”[21] The sweeping imagery Crane uses in portraying a subject as grand and universal to the human experience as the sea compares perfectly to Shelley’s equally sweeping description of a similarly grand and universal object of nature.

    Before turning to the poems themselves, it is once again worthwhile to examine polemics, this time modernist. “Voyages” emerged in the modernist milieu, and understanding modernism is essential to examining its language. Crane did not leave us with any sweeping polemic stating his conception of poetry as Shelley did, but he left voluminous correspondence that permits insight into his poetic ideals. There, Crane expressed his high regard of both Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot.[22] Both Pound and Eliot, it so happens, were highly influential polemicists, and their arguments should provide some helpful insight into Crane’s ideals.

    In his short but tight 1913 essay, “A Few Don’ts by an Imagiste,” Pound begins by defining the poetic “image” as “that which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time.”[23] The presentation of this emotional “complex,” in turn, “gives that sense of sudden liberation; that sense of freedom from time limits and space limits; that sense of sudden growth, which we experience in the presence of the greatest works of art.”[24] To Pound, “[i]t is better to present one Image in a lifetime than to produce voluminous works.”[25]

    Pound advises poets, “Don’t be ‘viewy’—leave that to the writers of pretty little philosophic essays,” and “Consider the definiteness of Dante’s presentation, as compared with Milton’s rhetoric.”[26] Pound’s use of “viewy” is unclear. Though it would usually mean “showy” or “ostentatious,” he associates it instead with philosophy rather than the display of imagery he advocates. Given the primacy of the image in his conception, his preference for “presentation” over “rhetoric,” and his earlier definition of the image complex, it is not a difficult leap to conclude that Pound conceives of poetry not as the conveyance of a message so much as the conveyance of an emotional effect.

    T.S. Eliot’s profoundly influential 1919 essay “Tradition and the Individual Talent” provides a much more detailed and eloquent articulation of the modernist approach to poetry. Though the essay’s primary focus is the relationship between the heritage of past literature and present poetry, its entire second section describes the purpose of poetry in Eliot’s modernist conception.

    For Eliot, the mature poet is a mere catalyst, a “finely perfected medium in which special, or very varied, feelings are at liberty to enter into new combinations” in the same way that platinum catalyzed the formation of sulfuric acid without itself being consumed.[27] The elements that the poet catalyzes are “emotions and feelings,” and their product, “[t]he effect of a work of art upon the person who enjoys it[,] is an experience different in kind from any experience not of art.”[28] This effect “may be formed out of one emotion, or may be a combination of several; and various feelings, inhering for the writer in particular words or phrases or images, may be added to compose the final result.”[29] Great poetry may even “be made without the direct use of any emotion whatever: composed out of feelings solely.”[30]

    On examining the greatest poetry, Eliot perceives “how completely any semi-ethical criterion of ‘sublimity’ misses the mark.”[31] Its greatness lies not in “the intensity, of the emotions, the components, but the intensity of the artistic process, the pressure, so to speak, under which the fusion takes place, that counts.”[32] Even though poetry might “employ[ ] a definite emotion,” its “intensity . . . is something quite different from whatever intensity in the supposed experience it may give the impression of.”[33] Providing the example of Keats, Eliot asserts, “The ode of Keats contains a number of feelings which have nothing particular to do with the nightingale, but which the nightingale, partly, perhaps, because of its attractive name, and partly because of its reputation, served to bring together.”[34]

    Eliot also rejects the Wordsworth’s famous definition of poetry as “emotion recollected in tranquility.” For Eliot, the poet does not recollect emotion, but collects experiences, using ordinary emotions and working them through poetry “to express feelings which are not in actual emotions at all.”[36] In concluding, Eliot calls this emotion in art impersonal, and has its life in the poem and not in the history of the poet.

    These two essays reveal the modernist conception of poetry as completely alien to that of Shelley, Poe, or Keats. However highly Eliot regarded those poets as part of the historical tradition he and his generation were to expand, his views of their art could not be more alien to theirs. For both him and Pound (and the rest of the modernists), the poem is not the conveyance of an underlying truth in a manner that delights—a concept, at least in English, stretching back to Sir Philip Sidney in the Renaissance—it is rather the conveyance of an effect on the reader. For Pound, the conveyance is a complex formed from the poetic image, and for Eliot it is a concentration of an impersonal experience that conjures a new emotion. But Eliot’s definition is only a more expansive view of Pound’s. The essence of both—the essence of modernism—is that poetry’s purpose is to convey an effect, not a truth. It works on, rather than speaks to, the reader.

    If “effect” is merely the emotional response of the reader to the language used, then poetry is but a cosmetic art, and a poet is but a writer who can string together a series of pretty-sounding words that conjure an image. That task requires no special skill. Like architecture or carpentry, true craftsmanship in poetry requires attention to structure and foundation, not merely color and ornament. And shoddy constructions and Potemkin villages never endure. True art lies in the essence of the work, not its impressions. This is yet another sense in which to read Keats’s famous line, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty.”


    ***********************

    This from the above excerpt further intrigues me :

    "" True art lies in the essence of the work, not its impressions. This is yet another sense in which to read Keats’s famous line, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty. ”"
    - Shall we as poets not attempt to understand this??

    Not write to --poetry-- first and the readers second?

    Do we place "message" first, second or even third? within our writings?? RJL
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    New Blog, Poetry, does its beautiful depths enter your heart?
    Blog Posted:5/29/2021 3:53:00 PM
    New Blog,

    Poetry, does its beautiful depths enter your heart?

    ***********

    https://interestingliterature.com/20...out-the-heart/

    LITERATURE

    10 of the Best Poems about the Heart

    Are these the greatest heart poems? Selected by Dr Oliver Tearle



    Poets have often written about the heart. Whether they’re discussing desire, or being broken-hearted by loss or unrequited love, or the boundless joy they feel in their hearts when encountering the wonders of the natural world. Here are ten of the best poems featuring hearts.



    SELECTION-- Only the first three of the ten listed -RJL….

    (1.)

    Sir Philip Sidney, ‘My true love hath my heart, and I have his’.



    My true love hath my heart, and I have his,

    By just exchange one for the other given:

    I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;

    There never was a bargain better driven.

    His heart in me keeps me and him in one;

    My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

    He loves my heart, for once it was his own;

    I cherish his because in me it bides …



    The poem is taken from Sidney’s long prose work the Arcadia, a pastoral narrative which Sidney composed in around 1580. The speaker of the poem in Book III of the Arcadia is a shepherdess, pledging her love for her betrothed, a shepherd who rests in her lap; this poem sees her describing the ‘bargain’ struck between the two lovers.

    *****

    (2.)

    William Shakespeare, Sonnet 46.



    Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,

    How to divide the conquest of thy sight;

    Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar,

    My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.

    My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie,

    A closet never pierced with crystal eyes,

    But the defendant doth that plea deny,

    And says in him thy fair appearance lies …



    In this sonnet, Shakespeare argues that his eyes and heart are engaged in a fight to the death, over who should have the right to own the image of Shakespeare’s beloved, the Fair Youth. The poet’s heart argues that it knows the truth of the young man, and no eye, no matter how clear, has ever penetrated that truth. Shakespeare concludes that his eyes own his beloved’s outward visible appearance, while his heart has rights over what’s inside.

    *****

    (3.)

    John Donne, ‘Batter my heart, three-person’d God’.



    Batter my heart, three-person’d God, for you

    As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

    That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend

    Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

    I, like an usurp’d town to another due,

    Labour to admit you, but oh, to no end;

    Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

    But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue …



    This is a remarkable sonnet because, although it was written after Donne’s confirmation as a priest in the Church of England, it is teeming with the same erotic language we find in his earlier ‘love sonnets’. This is the aspect of Donne which prefigures (and possibly influenced) a poet of 250 years later, the Victorian religious poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, who often addresses God in the same breathless, excited way that we see in this sonnet. (Hopkins also favoured the sonnet form, as demonstrated by his most famous poem, ‘The Windhover’, as well as by many of his other best-loved poems.) Donne’s sonnet also ends with a very daring declaration of desire that God ‘ravish’ him – much as he had longed for the women in his life to ravish him in his altogether more libertine youth.

    ***********************************

    My three sonnets composed for this blog.

    My interpretation of life, love, this world

    poetry writing- and the experiences of life

    that have set me to be a dedicated lifelong

    poet that goes my own way, regardless of

    any that think I should conform more to their

    ideas on poetry and how to express myself.

    RJL
    (1.)

    Alas! So Shoot Me, I Grieve What Was Lost



    Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost

    Not just youth, but those things Time took away

    Within aching heart comes an icy frost

    Covering epic pains of such decay!



    One may ask, how dare I so complain?

    Does Nature cry about hard falling rain?



    Yet does not this world its ills promote well?

    Oft with sorrows borne from depths of Hell?



    Dare I choose to such dark verses to write?

    Have I not truly joined in the fight?



    Alas! So shoot me, I grieve what was lost

    Not just youth, but those things Time took away

    Within aching heart comes an icy frost

    Covering epic pains of such decay!

    Robert J. Lindley,

    Sonnet, repeat stanza ( with triple couplets )


    ******

    (2.)

    Those Lush And Tender, Soft Welcoming Lips



    Those flowing curls, glowing luscious mane

    Sexy smile, flowering as desert rain

    Bountiful beauty, sent to ease heart's pain

    Lovely blessing sent for this soul to gain.



    Ravishing essence with sweet touch to match

    My hesitation, thinking what is the catch

    That such a beauty would now my way pass

    A goddess, sweet speaking to this poor lass.



    Those lush and tender, soft welcoming lips

    With true beauty, grace, and curvaceous hips

    Yes beauty, as could launch a thousand ships

    And greatest king's treasure surely eclipse.



    Those tender kisses that were sent both ways.

    May we forever - remember that day!



    Robert J. Lindley,

    Sonnet,

    ( And Life, Its Journey Ever Sped Onward )


    ******

    (3.)

    Does Basking Moon Ask Strolling Stars For More



    Of beauty, earth, wind and soft glowing sky

    Dares this artist to weep tears asking why

    Heart and soul must pay such a heavy price

    And shed blood for it to ever suffice?



    Does basking moon ask strolling stars for more

    Space and time to heavenly night explore

    And cast upon earth a much deeper hue

    To inspire such in poets such as you?



    Does dawn its resplendent new rays withhold

    That gift, that gleaming beauty to be sold

    Or Mother Nature fail to gift new birth

    Or poets fail to cast beauty's true worth?



    Do these quizzing queries set well in verse

    Or fail as being dated and quite terse?

    Robert J. Lindley,

    Sonnet,

    ( And what of life, love and this thing we call earth ? )


    *******************



    https://discover.hubpages.com/litera...eart-of-a-Poet

    JAN 4, 2015

    Poems and Poetry - The Heart of a Poet



    REBEKAHELLE

    Poetry Has Form and Structure

    Shakespeare's Sonnet 18. Iambic pentameter first appeared in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in late 14th century.

    Shakespeare's Sonnet 18. Iambic pentameter first appeared in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in late 14th century.



    ___________



    Poets have been writing poetry since time began. Poems begin in the head and heart, not with the pen. A poet is not necessarily someone who writes poems, but is someone who sees the world poetically, and is able to express it by way of language.



    Most people can compose a poem, but the simple act of writing doesn't make a poet. A poet looks at the world and sees poetry, in everything, and is able to express it with specific language. A visual artist may see the world through images and is able to express it with paint. A musician may hear the world and express it with sounds.



    A poet therefore, must be able to use language to convey emotion, depth, reality, fantasy, hope, despair, love, death, illusion.



    Without poetry, humanity has nowhere to hang its soul. A good poem can give us hope or laughter, tears, joy. A great poem can remind us of the magnitude of life itself. Life is so multidimensional, if we dare to enter into the life of a poem.



    How Is a Poet Inspired?

    The poet has the task of crafting language in order to give inspiration, in whatever form, to the reader. The world is the poets canvas. There are some poems waiting to be born, begging to be written. A poet will know when this happens.



    A poet can be inspired at any moment, in the most unlikely environments, by the most seemingly, non-poetic topics or situations.



    It could be the look in the eye of a passerby, or the sound of an unrelenting wind, the horrific image of a war torn road, the causal glance into the blue of the sky, the complexity of disease or famine, the beauty of love or its painful departure. Poetry is the ability to express what readers need to feel.



    Part One: Life ~ V1~



    "If I can stop one heart from breaking,



    I shall not live in vain;



    If I can ease one life the aching,



    Or cool one pain,



    Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again,



    I shall not live in vain."



    Emily Dickinson ~



    The heart of a poet belongs to the world. A poet writes for the masses realizing the reader is an individual. Once the poem is written and published for others to read and discover, now the poem belongs to the reader.



    It is this relationship between the reader and the poem that is the very heart of a poet. A reader will bring what he brings to the poem and make it meaningful. The poet’s work is accomplished. A poem is like any work of art in this respect, it has individual meaning in understanding and perception.



    _________

    What Is the Heart of a Poet?

    I have written poems in which readers assumed I was writing about a personal experience. This is certainly not the case. A poet must be able to write in such a manner that it conveys a real experience that may be universal in feeling. And of course, poets will use real life experiences as inspiration, and yet be able to separate themselves from the poem and appeal to the whole of humanity.



    Composing a poem requires skill, knowledge of language, styles of poetry and figures of speech, feeling, and a selflessness, wanting to express. A poet must read poetry.



    A Noiseless, Patient Spider~



    " NOISELESS, patient spider,



    I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;



    Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,



    It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;



    Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.



    And you, O my Soul, where you stand,



    Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,



    Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, --seeking the spheres, to connect them



    Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile anchor hold;



    Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul."



    Walt Whitman~

    Poetry is the lifeblood of civilization, giving it meaning and reason, hopelessness, joy, depravity, serenity, humor, recklessness and abandon, humility, compassion, love, death, life, a sense of purpose. The heart of a poet weaves a thread of humanity throughout the world. Enjoy it, read it often, compose it with love and respect.

    ************************************************** **

    Edit:
    5-30-2021

    My last four blogs-including the new blog just presented yesterday,
    Previous three blogs have all went --HOT.
    As did the previous 7 blogs not shown on the current listing.
    My hope is that this new goes to the hot stage, as that indicates
    it too has been read by a great many readers..... -Tyr



    Most Recent Blogs
    # Blog Title Date Posted Poet

    1… New Blog, Poetry, does its beautiful depths enter your heart?
    5/29/2021 Robert Lindley

    2…. Hot Blog Second Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity 5/19/2021 Robert Lindley

    3…. Hot Blog First Creation- A Poet's Blog - On Life, Love, Living, Death, Earth And Eternity 5/15/2021 Robert Lindley

    4…. Hot Blog New Blog: The Influence Of Greek Mythology Upon Poetry And Modern World
    4/25/2021 Robert Lindley


    *********************

    edit --
    And now only a couple hours after my posting the previous edit-- my new blog has went --HOT....--Tyr


    Hot Blog New Blog, Poetry, does its beautiful depths enter your heart?
    5/29/2021 Robert Lindley
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 05-30-2021 at 11:46 AM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    New Blog on, Ekphrasis And Its Spurring Quest For Greater Imagery In Verse
    Blog Posted:6/5/2021 5:53:00 AM
    New Blog on,

    Ekphrasis And Its Spurring Quest For Greater Imagery In Verse


    ********

    (1.)

    Ekphrasis on, The Spinners

    (Las Hilanderas) artist, Diego Velazquez




    colors, fabric missing painter's glaze

    spun within moonbeam's glow

    threads entangled in beautiful gaze

    majestic, with heart-sought truth in tow



    by mortal flesh and heart-sights thus sewn

    born- sky, water and land

    expressions, vanity's undertones

    imagination, from spinning hands



    from earth, cascading heavenly clouds

    windows - life's wondrous stage

    Turin, mystery and famous shroud

    digital world, techno all the rage



    wondrous explosion, breathtaking scenes

    hope, mankind's fleeing race

    dark's blight, Gods births, depths obscene

    humanity searching - divine grace



    spirals of color, artistic flair

    three spinners- flowing skies

    imagination, beyond compare

    artists, weavers and spirited eyes.



    Robert J. Lindley , 6-01-2021

    Ekphrasis on, The Spinners,

    Artist- Diego Velazquez

    This creation, inspired by my having read JCB Brul's poem,

    "Ekphrasis on House of Parliament At Sunset"- of Claude Monet's

    famed painting series , 1899--1901….




    (2.)

    My, My How Illusions Have Ever Brighter Grown



    Fading memories, sweet years further away flown

    Of the here and now- seedings of future unknown

    My, my how illusions have ever brighter grown

    And in fabric of time's wrath early deaths are sewn!



    Seas and waving folds in this universe collide.

    Ripples of dying love -hurt I cannot abide.



    There residing within dark's bursts of spastic pains

    A splash of paint ten thousand broken mirrors stains

    My, my how illusions wash decayed remains

    And hungry wolf to dying sheep never explains!



    Seas and waving folds in this universe collide.

    Ripples of dying love -hurt I cannot abide.



    Fading memories, sweet years further away flown

    Of the here and now- seedings of future unknown

    My, my how illusions have ever brighter grown

    And in fabric of time's wrath early deaths are sewn!



    Seas and waving folds in this universe collide.

    Ripples of dying love -hurt I cannot abide.


    Robert J. Lindley,

    Rhyme, ( From A Far Deeper Gaze Into The Looking Glass )


    *****

    (3.)

    Memories, Dreaming Again Of That Bliss



    romance and that velvet kiss

    deep softness in that sweet touch

    as moon-cast glimmers danced

    dreaming again of that bliss.



    nights and you soft satin sheets

    open window fragrant breeze

    as bright moon-shot gleaming fell

    romance clocked both heartbeats.



    beauty's glow, in eyes of blue

    passion, mountains of fervor

    as moon, its love-song preached

    naked bodies, me and you.



    eternal desires, your love

    youthful dreams of wondrous nights

    as moon-whispers, fell about

    treasure, you- gems from above.



    romance and that velvet kiss

    deep softness in that sweet touch

    as moon-cast glimmers danced

    dreaming again of that bliss.


    Robert J. Lindley,

    Romanticism,

    ( Poetic verses on sweet days of yore )

    woke 3am, composed from a sweet dream


    *****

    Notes: - Three links

    (1.)

    http://www.diegovelazquez.net/spinners/

    (2.)

    https://www.britannica.com/biography/Diego-Velazquez



    The Spinners (Las Hilanderas)



    Spinners (Las Hilanderas) Diego Velazquez

    One of the most admired and complex paintings by the Spanish painter Diego Velazquez is this one, Las Hilanderas. Also known as The Spinners, or The Fable of Arachne, the painting is a depiction of the mythological tale of Arachne, which is originally described in Ovid's Metamorphoses, book VI.

    In this story, a weaving competition takes place between Arachne and Pallas Athena, the patron goddess of weaving. After hearing of Arachne's boastful claims that she possessed spinning skills which could not be matched, the goddess challenged Arachne. Upon seeing the scene depicted on Arachne's completed tapestry, which she perceived to show the gods in a negative light, Pallas Athena turned Arachne into a spider, condemning her to weave forever. It is this competition we see about to commence in The Spinners. Rather than portraying the climactic scene of the tale, where Arachne experiences her transformation, Velazquez chose instead to render the scene just before the contest is truly underway.



    While the subject of mythology was a common one for painters of the Renaissance or Baroque eras, it is Velazquez's avoidance of the primary drama of the story that makes this painting so unique and enigmatic, leaving many to ponder its complexities even today. Often interpreted as an allegory for the arts themselves, The Spinners is viewed by many to be a commentary on all creative endeavours; a representation of craft against high art, with the Arachne serving as craft and the goddess symbolizing fine arts. Still other analysts assert that possibly Diego Velazquez was merely claiming in this piece that to create substantial works of art, one must do the hard work that is required.



    Some details pertaining to the commission of The Spinners are uncertain, further lending an enigmatic air to the painting. Based on the complexity of composition and other stylistic elements such as economical use of paint, tones of lightness, and the unmistakable Italian Baroque influence, many scholars have dated the piece to have been created in 1657. However, this has been disputed by some, who date the painting somewhere between 1644–50. What is certain is that The Spinners was painted for King Philip IV’s huntsman, Don Pedro de Arce. While Diego Velazquez's thoughts behind creating The Spinners will likely never be made clear to us, the fact that it leaves us discussing, pondering, and interpreting so deeply all these many years later is the mark of a great work of art, indeed.

    ***************

    (2.)

    https://www.britannica.com/biography/Diego-Velazquez



    Diego Velázquez

    Spanish painter

    WRITTEN BY

    Enriqueta Harris-Frankfort

    Honorary Fellow of the Warburg Institute, University of London. Author of Goya; Velázquez; and others.

    Diego Velázquez, in full Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez, (baptized June 6, 1599, Sevilla, Spain—died August 6, 1660, Madrid), the most important Spanish painter of the 17th century, a giant of Western art.



    Diego Velázquez: Las meninas

    Las meninas (with a self-portrait of the artist at the left, reflections of Philip IV and Queen Mariana in the mirror at the back of the room, and the infanta Margarita with her meninas, or maids of honour, in the foreground), oil on canvas by Diego Velázquez, c. 1656; in the Prado Museum, Madrid.



    Velázquez is universally acknowledged as one of the world’s greatest artists. The naturalistic style in which he was trained provided a language for the expression of his remarkable power of observation in portraying both the living model and still life. Stimulated by the study of 16th-century Venetian painting, he developed from a master of faithful likeness and characterization into the creator of masterpieces of visual impression unique in his time. With brilliant diversity of brushstrokes and subtle harmonies of colour, he achieved effects of form and texture, space, light, and atmosphere that make him the chief forerunner of 19th-century French Impressionism.



    The principal source of information about Velázquez’s early career is the treatise Arte de la pintura (“The Art of Painting”), published in 1649 by his master and father-in-law Francisco Pacheco, who is more important as a biographer and theoretician than as a painter. The first complete biography of Velázquez appeared in the third volume (El Parnaso español; “The Spanish Parnassus”) of El museo pictórico y escala óptica (“The Pictorial Museum and Optical Scale”), published in 1724 by the court painter and art scholar Antonio Palomino. This was based on biographical notes made by Velázquez’s pupil Juan de Alfaro, who was Palomino’s patron. The number of personal documents is very small, and official documentation relating to his paintings is relatively rare. Since he seldom signed or dated his works, their identification and chronology has often to be based on stylistic evidence alone. Though many copies of his portraits were evidently made in his studio by assistants, his own production was not large, and his surviving autograph works number fewer than 150. He is known to have worked slowly, and during his later years much of his time was occupied by his duties as a court official in Madrid.

    ******

    (3.)

    https://examples.yourdictionary.com/...ery-poems.html



    Theodore Rothke - My Papa’s Waltz

    This famous poem by Theodore Rothke is an excellent example of olfactory and tactile imagery with plenty of visual imagery thrown in for good measure. The effect is powerful.


    My Papa’s Waltz


    The whiskey on your breath



    Could make a small boy dizzy;



    But I hung on like death:



    Such waltzing was not easy.



    We romped until the pans



    Slid from the kitchen shelf;



    My mother’s countenance



    Could not unfrown itself.



    The hand that held my wrist



    Was battered on one knuckle;



    At every step you missed



    My right ear scraped a buckle.



    You beat time on my head



    With a palm caked hard by dirt,



    Then waltzed me off to bed



    Still clinging to your shirt.

    ****
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    my new blog went--- HOT-- in one day.....

    Always astounds me that these blogs are going to the -HOT- status so very quickly... --Tyr



    Hot Blog New Blog on, Ekphrasis And Its Spurring Quest For Greater Imagery In Verse 6/5/2021 Robert Lindley
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    New Blog, Why Dark Poetry Fascinated So Many Famous Poets..
    Blog Posted:6/11/2021 8:26:00 PM
    New Blog, Why Dark Poetry Fascinated So Many Famous Poets..



    (1.)

    Poe's Nightmare And Penitence



    The statue in the hall, moved ever so slightly,

    I saw this movement upon every midnight stroke-

    Alone, eagerly waiting for this dark magic nightly

    Shivers given, very addictive but sadly were no joke,

    Anticipation burned awaiting that movement refined

    For each night at midnight it moved just a bit more

    And sat I, there to watch as I so greedily dined,

    Upon the tender, ethereal flesh of my love, Lenore!



    As the darkened years swiftly raced into the mists:

    I prayed to the dark gods for mercy evermore,

    And Lenore's name was always on my pleading lists

    Come back, come back again to me- my sweet Lenore!



    Last year, that eerie, moving statue began to smile

    A wicked little grin, a grimace for to be sure

    My mind confused, for this was not in her style

    The movement and soft grace of my Lenore so pure;

    Aha! Could this be the spirit of the Raven gone?

    Returneth to plague and so vex my tired old Soul,

    Or my mind deranged from its loneliness trying to atone

    For a grieving hate-darkened heart as black as coal?



    Now the statue has made it all the way to the door,

    There was no creaking and groaning as it slowly walks

    Nor any of the great beauty resplendent in my Lenore

    Yet for years now, we've had our mystical, nightly talks!



    Last night the door opened and away she magically flew

    By all the dark gods, I cried for her to not fly away!

    Please stay and in this dark dungeon reside, just we two,

    Alas! Aghast at this penitence my ruined heart to pay;

    Where once the sheer brightness of her love and name,

    Would heal my wounds and thus join us in bright light of day

    Raven! What hellish playing you've done in this wicked game

    For now I grieve ever the more, for my Lenore to love and stay!



    Robert J. Lindley, 11-27-2015



    ***************



    The Beast, Hideous Monster That Lived To Kill




    PART 1



    It was a dark beast, hellish in fury and deep hate

    I that came to know it, wondered its wicked fate

    And mysterious way its unlucky victims it chose

    Insanity of violence and leaving the red rose

    Humanlike, the way it rearranged each torn dress

    Always their hair combed neat, tho' each a bloody mess

    Why did it scratch my door night of its deadly attacks

    From behind my barn leave its hideous bloody tracks!



    O'how I worried that somehow me they would accuse

    True, I had a temper and record of a short fuse

    Yet they knew me and as a truly kind hearted-man

    And a courageous soul, the kind that never ran

    Did not those savage attacks happen ten miles away

    Always at moonlit night, never at light of day

    Had seen it, had trailed it to its forest lair

    But no further, even found chunks of its black hair!



    Then it came to me, an idea why it killed

    What a clever thought, in my heart it so thrilled

    Could it be acts of dark vengeance it was doing

    Well thought plan it was diligently pursuing

    For six months the beast killed at least once a week

    Fierce, so deadly, nothing about it mild and meek

    Always a victim that was innocent and weak

    And I just behind it, waiting to take a peek!



    With newfound knowledge a clever plan came to me

    To take action, no longer hide behind a tree

    First step, find a deadly weapon, one sure to kill

    A long blade too cut it, O' what a wondrous thrill

    With a new plan and a fine weapon in my hand

    Tonight I would dare it, take a brave hero's stand

    Strike the massive beast down before it did the deed

    And stand there in wanton delight, watching it bleed!



    Then it stopped no more scratching on my front door

    I felt lost, into aching heart a hole it tore

    Why, why had it so suddenly abandoned me

    Could it somehow into my sad, lonely heart see

    A whisper, passing phantom or was it a dream

    Had we not both become a great night-stalking team

    Then in the mirror hairy image did I see

    Only this, savage beast staring right back at me!



    Robert J. Lindley, 6-11-2021

    Dark poetry-

    As A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe




    *************************

    (1.)



    https://interestingliterature.com/20...bout-darkness/





    LITERATURE

    10 of the Best Poems about Darkness

    The greatest dark poems selected by Dr Oliver Tearle



    Poetry isn’t all sweetness and light, of course. In fact, much of it is concerned with the darker aspects of the natural world, whether it’s the mystery or solemnity of night-time darkness or some other, more abstract or metaphorical kind of darkness (‘O dark dark dark’, as T. S. Eliot put it in Four Quartets). Here, we offer ten of the best poems about darkness of various kinds.





    1. Charlotte Smith, ‘Written near a Port on a Dark Evening’.



    All is black shadow but the lucid line

    Marked by the light surf on the level sand,

    Or where afar the ship-lights faintly shine

    Like wandering fairy fires, that oft on land

    Misled the pilgrim …



    This sonnet was written by one of the great proto-Romantic poets of the second half of the eighteenth century. Smith’s sonnets anticipate Romanticism partly because nature in her poetry is so often feared with an awesome power that verges on the terrifying: ‘life’s long darkling way’ is brooding and full of menace here.



    2. Lord Byron, ‘Darkness’.





    I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

    The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars

    Did wander darkling in the eternal space,

    Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth

    Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;

    Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day …



    This poem was inspired by a curious incident: the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia, which drastically altered the weather conditions across the world and led to 1816 being branded ‘the Year without a Summer’. The same event also led to Byron’s trip to Lake Geneva and his ghost-story writing competition, which produced Mary Shelley’s masterpiece Frankenstein.



    For Byron, the extermination of the sun seemed like a dream, yet it was ‘no dream’ but a strange and almost sublimely terrifying reality.





    3. Robert Browning, ‘Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came’.



    If at his counsel I should turn aside

    Into that ominous tract which, all agree,

    Hides the Dark Tower. Yet acquiescingly

    I did turn as he pointed: neither pride

    Nor hope rekindling at the end descried,

    So much as gladness that some end might be …



    A grotesque quasi-medieval dramatic monologue detailing the quest of the titular Roland, this poem was produced in an attempt to overcome writer’s block: in 1852 Browning had set himself the New Year’s Resolution to write a new poem every day, and this vivid dreamscape is what arose from his fevered imagination.





    Browning borrowed the title from a line in Shakespeare’s King Lear; the character of Roland as he appears in Browning’s poem has in turn inspired Stephen King to write his Dark Tower series, while J. K. Rowling borrowed the word ‘slughorn’ from the poem when creating the name of her character Horace Slughorn.



    4. Emily Dickinson, ‘We grow accustomed to the Dark’.



    We grow accustomed to the Dark –

    When Light is put away –

    As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

    To witness her Good bye –





    A Moment – We Uncertain step

    For newness of the night –

    Then – fit our Vision to the Dark –

    And meet the Road – erect …



    The first line of this poem also provides the poem with its main theme: the way our eyes adjust to the darkness, just as our minds adapt to the bleakness of life and contemplation of the ‘night’ that is death.



    5. Thomas Hardy, ‘The Darkling Thrush’.



    At once a voice arose among

    The bleak twigs overhead,

    In a full-hearted evensong

    Of joy illimited.

    An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small,

    With blast-beruffled plume,

    Had chosen thus to fling his soul

    Upon the growing gloom …





    This classic Hardy poem captures the mood of a winter evening as the sun, ‘the weakening eye of day’, sets below the horizon and gives way to dusk on New Year’s Eve. Hardy hears a thrush singing, and wonders whether the thrush is aware of some reason to be hopeful for the coming new year, some reason of which Hardy himself is unaware.



    In ‘The Darkling Thrush’ itself we are given clues that religion is on the speaker’s mind. In the third stanza, when the thrush of the title appears (‘darkling’ is an old poetic word for ‘in darkness’ – it also, incidentally, echoes Matthew Arnold‘s use of the word in his famous poem about declining faith, ‘Dover Beach’, published in 1867), its song is described as ‘evensong’, suggesting the church service, while the use of the word ‘soul’ also suggests the spiritual. (Such a religiously inflected analysis of Hardy’s poem is reinforced by ‘carolings’ in the next stanza.)



    6. Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day’.





    I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

    What hours, O what black hours we have spent

    This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!

    And more must, in yet longer light’s delay …



    One of Hopkins’s ‘Terrible Sonnets’, this poem is one of the finest evocations of a sleepless night that English poetry has produced. When we wake to find that it’s not yet morning but we are still surrounded by darkness, and undergo some sort of ‘dark night of the soul’, we often feel as Hopkins describes here. For him it is a spiritual battle as well as a mere case of insomnia.



    As so often with Hopkins, the spiritual and psychological are experienced as a vivid visceral force that is physical as well as metaphysical: his depression and doubt weigh upon him like heartburn or indigestion (‘heartburn’ picking up on the poet’s more abstract address to his ‘heart’ in the third line of the poem, but also leading into the ‘blood’ mentioned a couple of lines later).





    7. Carl Sandburg, ‘Moonset’.



    This short poem is almost actively ‘unpoetical’ in its imagery, and offers a fresh look at the moon. The poem’s final image of ‘dark listening to dark’ is especially eye-catching.



    8. Edward Thomas, ‘The Dark Forest’.



    Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead

    Hang stars like seeds of light

    In vain, though not since they were sown was bred

    Anything more bright …



    This poem from the wonderful nature poet Edward Thomas (1878-1917) begins by describing a forest at night, above whose trees the stars shine like ‘seeds of light’.





    9. Joseph Campbell, ‘Darkness’.



    One of the first ‘modern’ poems written in English, this short lyric by the Irish-born poet Joseph Campbell (1879-1944) shares affinities with the poems of T. E. Hulme, and seems in some respects to prefigure the ‘bog’ poems of Seamus Heaney. You can read Campbell’s ‘Darkness’ by clicking on the link below, which will also take you to three other short poems by Campbell.



    10. Philip Larkin, ‘Going’.



    Philip Larkin never learned, in Sigmund Freud’s memorable phrase about King Lear, to make friends with the necessity of dying. ‘Going’ is an early example of Larkin’s mature engagement with the terrifying realisation that death will come for us all.



    In ten unrhymed lines, ‘Going’ explores death without ever mentioning it by name, instead referring to it, slightly elliptically, as ‘an evening’ that is ‘coming in’. Larkin uses the metaphor of the coming evening – an evening which ‘lights no lamps’ because there is no hope of staving off this darkness, the darkness of death.





    Continue to explore classic poetry with these short poems about death and dying, our pick of the best poems about eyes, and these classic poems about secrets. We also recommend The Oxford Book of English Verse – perhaps the best poetry anthology on the market (we offer our pick of the best poetry anthologies here).



    The author of this article, Dr Oliver Tearle, is a literary critic and lecturer in English at Loughborough University. He is the author of, among others, The Secret Library: A Book-Lovers’ Journey Through Curiosities of History and The Great War, The Waste Land and the Modernist Long Poem.





    **********



    (2.)



    http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/thema...ark_poems.html



    Dark Poems and Poetry



    A Collection of Dark Poems and Poetry from the most Famous Poets and Authors.



    25 POEMS-



    Under Her Dark Veil by Anna Akhmatova

    Senlin: His Dark Origins by Conrad Aiken

    The House Of Dust: Part 01: 06: Over the darkened city, the city of towers by Conrad Aiken

    The House Of Dust: Part 02: 01: The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea by Conrad Aiken

    The Door in the Dark by Robert Frost

    An Electric Sign Goes Dark by Carl Sandburg

    My Country in Darkness by Eavan Boland

    Behold, As Goblins Dark Of Mien by Robert Louis Stevenson

    From the Dark Tower by Countee Cullen

    In the Dark Pine-Wood by James Joyce

    The Dark Hour by William Henry Davies

    Dark Night by Frank Bidart

    The Dark Forest by Edward Thomas

    When the Dark Comes Down by Lucy Maud Montgomery

    The Night is Darkening Around Me by Emily Bronte

    Night is Darkening Around Me, The by Emily Bronte

    Written near a Port on a Dark Evening by Charlotte Smith

    Childe Roland To The Dark Tower Came by Robert Browning

    Through the Dark Sod -- as Education by Emily Dickinson

    Not quite dark yet by Yosa Buson

    Darkness by Lord Byron

    My Soul is Dark by Lord Byron

    My wheel is in the dark! by Emily Dickinson

    We grow accustomed to the Dark by Emily Dickinson

    I see thee better -- in the Dark -- by Emily Dickinson





    *************



    https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poe...-clifted-shore



    Huge Vapours Brood above the Clifted Shore

    -- BY CHARLOTTE SMITH

    Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore,

    Night o'er the ocean settles, dark and mute,

    Save where is heard the repercussive roar

    Of drowsy billows, on the rugged foot

    Of rocks remote; or still more distant tone

    Of seamen, in the anchored bark, that tell

    The watch relieved; or one deep voice alone,

    Singing the hour, and bidding "strike the bell."

    All is black shadow, but the lucid line

    Marked by the light surf on the level sand,

    Or where afar, the ship-lights faintly shine

    Like wandering fairy fires, that oft on land

    Mislead the pilgrim; such the dubious ray

    That wavering reason lends, in life's long darkling way.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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    I just saw that all 5 of my blogs are NOW listed as HOT…--Tyr


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    5/15/2021 Robert Lindley
    Last edited by Tyr-Ziu Saxnot; 06-12-2021 at 09:15 PM.
    18 U.S. Code § 2381-Treason Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death, or shall be imprisoned not less than five years and fined under this title but not less than $10,000; and shall be incapable of holding any office under the United States.

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