This poem by Joyce Kilmer came to mind. It led to the prompt to the AI and the result… I then edited the hell out of it. Leading to a little poem ‘I see a rose’
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Write a simple poem about poetry using nature as a metaphor.
A rose by the side of the road
Is all it takes to make me feel whole
All the colors and scents
Nature has to offer
Take me away to a place where I can be free
And the world is my oyster
This is what poetry does for me
It takes me away to a better place
And fills me with hope and beauty
When I am surrounded by nature
I feel at peace, and everything makes perfect sense
Thank you, dear poet, for giving me this gift
For opening my eyes and my heart
And transport me to a world of your own
Where the only thing that matters
Are the words that we write
And the feelings they inspire
I see a rose
I see a rose
& I feel whole.
Your words invite
my heart to open,
There is a verse in this poem I may have put on this blog before, but here is the whole poem with that verse highlighted. It fits for me – recollecting my past but also still loving the bush. That verse is loaded with line after line that are each a “meme” on the internet. (the image above is nothing like the sylvan Wye but it is like the places I roam.)
Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798
BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
Continue reading “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798”
“later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
where does it hurt?
― Warsan Shire
John Berger is worth attending to. He surprises and stimulates constantly about everything. I like this podcast:
Continue reading “John Berger and Marxist Art Criticism — podcast (and More)”
Banish Air from Air
By Emily Dickinson
Banish Air from Air –
Divide Light if you dare –
While Cubes in a Drop
Or Pellets of Shape
Films cannot annul
Odors return whole
And with a Blonde push
Over your impotence
Continue reading “Banish Air from Air — By Emily Dickinson”
I like poems that sing
and hum, they’re easy on
the brain. Nothing
obscure, but plenty to ponder.
And nothing long. Unless
it really gallops. I want
to see what’s going on.
and what’s underneath.
Love is good in poems. And
life and death. Birth is rare
unless it’s spring, let’s have
more. Earth and fire. Breath.
But nevermind. Poems do not obey commands.
They come half-made and not to order.
Waiting For The Miracle
Have had this song in my mind since the Theatre of Spontaneity group on Tuesday.
That was the group theme, ambivalence, sticking with the known.
I love the verse:
Ah baby, let’s get married
We’ve been alone too long
Let’s be alone together
Let’s see if we’re that strong
Yeah let’s do something crazy,
Something absolutely wrong
While we’re waiting
For the miracle, for the miracle to come
Lyrics follow Continue reading “Let’s do something crazy, Something absolutely wrong”
Nothing will help.
What am I doing?
Why am I here? Continue reading “Give birth to this moment.”
I listened to the podcast and enjoyed it:
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Melvyn Bragg and guests discuss Coleridge’s poem of a grim voyage in which a sailor shoots an albatross and is forced to tell the story of his crime forever.
More info, but I wanted to see the Dore Images. Here is one:
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (originally The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere) is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1797–98 and published in 1798 in the first edition of Lyrical Ballads. Some modern editions use a revised version printed in 1817 that featured a gloss. Along with other poems in Lyrical Ballads, it is often considered a signal shift to modern poetry and the beginning of British Romantic literature.