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Rove I, In Midnight Dreams, Through Golden Halls of Avalon Second Poets Tribute Series, Conrad Aiken
Rove I, In Midnight Dreams, Through Golden Halls of Avalon Second Poets Tribute Series, Conrad Aiken
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(1.)
https://www.britannica.com/biography/Conrad-Aiken
Conrad Aiken
AMERICAN WRITER
WRITTEN BY: The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica
See Article History
Alternative Title: Conrad Potter Aiken
Conrad Aiken, in full Conrad Potter Aiken, (born August 5, 1889, Savannah, Georgia, U.S.—died August 17, 1973, Savannah), American Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, short-story writer, novelist, and critic whose works, influenced by early psychoanalytic theory, are concerned largely with the human need for self-awareness and a sense of identity. Aiken himself faced considerable trauma in his childhood when he found the bodies of his parents after his father had killed his mother and committed suicide. He later wrote of this in his autobiography Ushant (1952).
Aiken was educated at private schools and at Harvard University, where he was a friend and contemporary of T.S. Eliot (whose poetry was to influence his own). A tutor in English at Harvard in the late 1920s and a London correspondent for The New Yorker in the mid-1930s, he divided his life almost equally between England and the United States until 1947, when he settled in Massachusetts. Aiken was instrumental as editor of Selected Poems of Emily Dickinson (1924) in establishing that poet’s posthumous reputation, and he played a significant role in introducing the work of American poets to the British public.
much more at link given..
(2.)
https://poets.org/poet/conrad-aiken :
Link contains a long list of his many other poems, prose, stories, etc..
Rove I, In Midnight Dreams, Through Golden Halls Of Avalon
Second poets tribute series,
As I fight many epic battles against blank white pages
war I with blues, born of unfulfilled poetic rages,
through gigantic cavernous depths of unrepentant deeds
Seek I, greater truths in Poetry's Art, its sweetest seeds!
Rove I in midnight dreams, through golden halls of Avalon
speak I, to pale white ghosts of poems Poetry hath spawn,
in our discourse bow I, to wisdom's arms, they wisely wield
oft I, have cause to battle foes, fight under that bold shield!
From echoing voices that call and ask for solemn vows
hear i, melancholy groans, as a shadow figure prowls,
deep dark in the black abyss my soul races on to sink
bloody cuts appear, faster than a witch's black cat can blink!
Fearful that this time, a return path will never be found
beg I for rooster's waking crow, dawn's most heavenly sound,
in my sincere, hopeful prayer rests a further great plea
that faith's Light returns, to save a wretched sinner like me!
As I fight many epic battles against blank white pages
I war with blues, born of unfulfilled poetic rages,
through gigantic cavernous depths of unrepentant deeds
Seek I, greater truths in Poetry's Art, its sweetest seeds!
Robert J. Lindley, 11-13-2019
Rhyme, (14,14,14,14)
(Dark, As Poet Wars Against Doubts, Fatigue And Melancholy)
Inspired by "" Senlin: His Dark Origins"", and by ""The Vampire"",
Conrad Aiken - 1899-1973 by Conrad Aiken
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2019
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