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When the Bird Sings Very Close: Two Poems by Seamus Heaney
Robert Lowell, one of my poetry heroes, called him “the most important Irish Poet since Yeats.” The Belfast Telegraph claims him as one of their own, since he grew up in Northern Ireland, in the village of Bellaghy, and will now be buried there in south Derry. Dublin seems to claim him since he lived, and now…
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A Brief Defense of Flying and Failing
In Jack Gilbert’s poem “Failing and Flying”, he makes the important point that despite the common word on the street, “anything / worth doing is worth doing badly.” So I am going to stop procrastinating and just post this reading now. See, I procrastinate when I feel I don’t have time to do justice to…
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From the august trees
Originally posted on some little crum creek: . Some parts of our nature we might never see. But under a rising moon, out from a waning season, an imploring eastern screech owl sounds — savor the mystery. .
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Revenge, by Taha Muhammad Ali
I usually cannot refrain from making some comment about a poem that I read or post here. Mostly it is because I love the poems I share with you and we often speak much about what we love. But tonight I want to just let this poem speak for itself. I will only add that…
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Miss Emily: We Grow Accustomed to the Dark
Suzie Grogan, the writer formerly known as KeatsBabe (sorry, Suzie, I couldn’t resist the Prince reference) has been writing about depression, recovery and art for some time now. You may remember back in October, the promotion of her book Dandelions and Bad Hair Days. I was tickled to be the voice for this Keats-lover’s poem…
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Of News, Reviews, and Shaking the Blues
Shakin’ the Blues: Well, it takes one foot first, doesn’t it. Do you recall the song from that Christmas show of childhood, with young red-headed Santa helping the Warlock King to put “One Foot in Front of the Other?” Sometimes that’s what it takes to shake the blues. When I do not have the energy…
