Tag: mortality

poetry appreciation

and yet more weather

Nov 11, 2021 #acceptance, #ageing, #autumn, #death, #Early October Snow, #Germaine Greer, #Greer, #Haight, #intimations of mortality, #mortality, #November, #October, #Robert Haight, #Snow, #The Change, #winter by Lucy Crispin

I realise it’s a bit late to offer you a poem called ‘Early October Snow‘, but it turned up in my inbox right at the end of last month and I can’t bear to wait another year before sharing it! I think Robert Haight’s poem is quietly beautiful in its imagery, and powerful in an understated way; so I hope that, thinking so too, you’ll forgive my tardiness.

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poetry appreciation

hallowe’en

Oct 28, 2021 #ancestors, #Annie Finch, #autumn, #Celtic, #comfort, #connection, #continuum, #day of the Dead, #death, #Eternity, #fear, #Finch, #halloween, #mortality, #mother, #Samhain, #scary, #soothing, #spring, #time, #winter by Lucy Crispin

Well, if Strictly can have a Hallowe’en special, why can’t this column? I do like Annie Finch’s take on the Celtic Feast of the Dead, ‘Samhain‘. I don’t know that I understand it all intellectually but, as ever with me, that matters less than the feeling with which it leaves me. There’s a shiver, not of fear but something more like awe, of apprehending the vastness of time and our place in a continuum. See how the poem leaves you.

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poetry appreciation
poetry appreciation

starting over

Jan 7, 2021 #Aubade, #Dana Gioia, #death, #Gioia, #hope, #human, #Larkin, #mindful, #mindfulness, #mortality, #New Year, #New Year's, #New Year's Eve, #Philip Larkin, #possibility, #potential, #presence, #waste by Lucy Crispin

I’m half Scottish but I’m also half Sassenach, and I’ve never really “got” the whole Hogmanay frenzy. New Year’s Eve has often felt tainted with melancholy for me, in a sub-Larkin ‘Death [is] a whole year nearer now‘ sort of a way. This year, though, when surely most of us are hoping for better things to come, I feel really drawn to this poem, the beautiful ‘New Year’s‘ by Dana Gioia. See what you make of it.

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poetry appreciation

thank you

Oct 22, 2020 #anger, #appreciate, #appreciation, #fear, #Gay, #gratitude, #mindful, #mindfulness, #miracle, #mortality, #ode to the west wind, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #poem, #poetry, #presence, #present, #Ross Gay, #Shelley, #sorrow, #Thank you by Lucy Crispin

At the moment, the world is offering us lots of reminders that life is short and time’s winged chariot is always hurrying near. It’s easy to get sucked into fear, anger or sorrow about this. They’re all around us (as well as inside us). So I was particularly delighted to discover this poem which suggests a different and beautiful response to intimations of mortality. Here it is: ‘Thank you‘ by Ross Gay. Read it and be refreshed. (You can also hear him read a couple of bits from a recent book here.)

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poetry appreciation

begin in delight…

Jul 2, 2020 #Begin in delight end in wisdom, #compassion, #delight, #empathy, #Frost, #Henley, #humour, #Hymn to the Comb-Over, #insight, #Invictus, #McNair, #mock, #mocking, #mortality, #spirit, #time, #Wesley McNair, #William Ernest Henlel, #wisdom by Lucy Crispin

End in wisdom. Yup, that’ll do. Here’s a delightful morsel which I trust will bring a smile to your lips: ‘Hymn to the Comb-Over‘ by Wesley McNair’. Doesn’t the very title brighten your day?

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poetry appreciation

the school in which we learn

Apr 23, 2020 #April, #Calmly We Walk, #death, #Delmore Schwartz, #depression, #despair, #dread, #fear, #grief, #meaning, #mindful, #mindfulness, #mortality, #poem, #poetry, #presence, #present, #Schwartz, #spring, #time, #time is the fire in which we burn, #time is the school in which we learn by Lucy Crispin

I’ve no idea how well known this poem is, but it’s relatively new to me, and its refrains have been pulsing their steady rhythm through me for the last week or so. So here it is: ‘Calmly We Walk through This April’s Day‘ by Delmore Schwartz.

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poetry appreciation

more daffodils

Mar 12, 2020 #Britten, #celebration, #daffodils, #fair daffodils, #gather ye rosebuds, #Herrick, #lament, #Moeran, #mortality, #poem, #poet, #poetry, #Robert Herrick, #spring, #springtime, #to daffodils, #to the virgins to make much of time, #transience, #William Wordsworth, #Wordsworth by Lucy Crispin

Occasionally I get a bit of a painful meta-position on Being A Poet and wonder quite how tiresome we are as companions. Imagine going for a walk with us. I mean, can’t we just enjoy the first flowers of spring, for goodness’ sake? Wordsworth managed some pleasure and gratitude about the daffs (or was it Dorothy…?); Herrick, however, looks on daffs and thinks of death (a bit like Larkin and his trees, but we’ll get to that in May). I have to confess to having a fair dose of inner Herrick. I love his ‘To Daffodils’ a lot more than the Wordsworth; and, now I’ve said that, you can read the poem here while I sit back and wait to be struck down.

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