Tribute to William Soutar 1898-1943
A Perthshire Lad William Soutar
William S* showed a poetic voice
the quatrain form,his choice
he named a whigmaleerie
became a lasting legacy
Wiliam Soutar famed for his 119 American cinquains(which he labelled epigrams) also wrote whigmaleeries for children .
In dialect and lyric William’s
poetry soon found fame.
Whims and fanciful notions
these whigmaleerie were known.
Less popular yet, equally unique
verse in English, oh so terse. This
genre , American cinquain consolidated
a reputation,once again.
Grew to manhood on the river Tay,
Writing poems ,most every day;
Cinquains,epigrams, whigmaleerie-
& His diary of a dying man,left
Telling observations, for all to see.
Dice black and white
Not looking for a fight
Lucky hands, grip tight
Wanting a winning sight
Put pair into flight
Fist raised, power, and might
Snake eyes say good night
GUTTURAL MUSE by SEAMUS HEANEY
A classic piece of observation from a hotel window ,in just three five liners .A view of universal everyday scenes from a 'detached 'poetic viewpoint with imaginative ,yet wistful digressions of the older observer 'poet'*
*Ulster poet Seamus Heaney
ever a favourite with me
In which nostalgic childhood shines through
to become a Nobel winner too
Lyrical in beauty,dug from
the depths of the past.
A storyteller, articulate in
elegaic stanza writing words
to last.Of farm life and childhood,
deep in Irish terra firma in
which he and his poetry stood.
A delightful imagist quality
of 'as is moments' once
frozen in memory,and now
released for our delight .His
triplet,quatrain and quintain form
brings a succinctness of thought
combined with the commonplace
A Tribute to Seamus Heaney 1939-2013
To Elizbeth Barrett Browning
invalidity from riding did bring
Putting aside this tragic hurt
she elope to marry her Robert
Her Petrachan sonnet we see
an abba abba then cdecde
A sestet follows the octave
a love poesy we all crave
twin souls was her song
heart to heart,all the day long
I had heard about the legend of her lips,
so, at the sight of vermillion moonlight,
shimmering on turquoise ripples at twilight,
my soul ventured, craving the sighs of her sips.
Fate led towards a path of wooden shutters,
amidst the silence, silken whispers enticed,
upon her vision, all speech was sacrificed.
My heart danced like velvet butterfly flutters.
Her lips resembled two petals yearning for rain,
with an innocent blush resting on their tips,
curved liked sacred, unwritten poetic scripts,
I surrendered my muse for her kiss to drain.
They seemed to tremble, waiting to be explored.
An unspoken allurement composed through her eyes,
where she veiled a threshold of nectarous cries,
like dawn, we merged as the moon and sun adored.
In neroli mist we melted like molten gold,
lost volcanic spirits spilling in lava lust.
Her wildfire swept my senses like a spiced gust,
as hummingbirds, hummed about secrets untold.
There was a sinful sweetness in her caress.
In her sanctum, I forgot the essence of 'me,'
as her taste turned a blank page into poetry.
A rendezvous, which ylang ink cannot confess.
Minimalistic Ezra Pound
also wrote poetry most profound
but in his 'Station Metro' verse
he pared&pared to make it terse
Idaho's Ezra Pound
with Canto did astound
He began as an imagist theorist
with the genre did not persist
Writer William Ernest Henley
a little known poet was he
'Invictus' * his claim to fame
inspiration** the name of the game(s)
A stoic due to illness & hospitalisation his poem *(s) & (life)became an inspirational name for the 'games' ,Mandela,RL Stevenson& Butterworth the composer..William's (born 1849 died 1903)Invictus' verse ,four abab quatrains, was written in 1875.
You Cosmic Poetic Butterfly
When your mind—
The c o c o o n
Of your spirit—
Re
lea
ses,
With your essence
Of healing words,
Let the rhythmic
Wings of your being,
Soar you—
Streamlining
Airways
Of life—
Of graceful
Liberation,
To those cosmic beings
In the universe of life:
Awaiting its
Hydrating
Oxidation
Of the
Onederful
Onement
Of the
Oneness
Of your
Ondering
Peace
And
Love.
Dear poetry, I do wish that you knew
Just how much I love you, yes it is true
For once you came to me in a classroom
And made my heart fly way up to the moon.
Teacher said that we’d to write poetry
We'd never written poetically
Had to write an anthology of verse
All began composing poetic words.
When we got writing the teacher then said
Each poem you write, bring up to my desk
I took my first poem and teacher said
Where did you get this from, you must confess.
It is my poem, I quietly said
The words have come from out of my own head
Miss thought that I had copied the poem
But time passed and the truth began showing.
Miss said that I'd be a writer one day
In my heart those words will forever stay
I thank you poetry for happenstance
That led me to a poetic romance.
A QUIET EARRING POETIC FLOW
Quite sun
shining,
Quite green leaves
waving;
Quiet ears
ringing:-
In the silent
night,
Ears ring
quietly
to themselves:
Echoing
to me:-
The ears
continue
To ring
in profound
silence,
Echoing life:
When will
these echoes
reveal
Wisdom
and understanding?
Ringing
silent ears;
Let us give
thanksgiving praise
For echoing life:
Without quiet
ringing,
Would we be
in this loud world?!
Let us
be happy;
Wisdom and
understanding,
Quietly
ringing out:
God speaking
all languages;
Streaming all
our ringing ears:-
Wow, what
an amazing brain:
Quietly ringing
opened ears:-
Ears not only
hear all music,
They also quietly
play theirs:-
Software that’s deployed incomplete,
we are expected to go with the flow.
Agile is supposed to put people first?
I’m looking at a slew of burnt out staff.
Expectations without the proper tools,
I’m not really a fan of looking like a fool.
I am here to file a corporate complaint,
right now before it’s too late.
The patrons who choose our business
notice the consistent inconsistencies.
Drops, outages, and all flavors of ‘Fail’
are not supposed to be commonplace.
Piling on more the experts won’t survive,
nothing will be left of a fine tuned skillset.
Quality or quantity? An ancient argument.
There is a line I fear we have crossed.
I am here to file a corporate complaint,
right now before it’s too late.
Junk-bait replaced an aspirational brand.
Is that what we are destined to say?
Well I’ll be damned if I let master class die.
Trash is trending and we have a reputation.
Flexible doesn’t mean sacrifice soundness.
I don’t ever want to hear ‘Remember when..’
I am here to file a corporate complaint,
right now before it’s too late.
Poetic breadcrumbs
Tossed into the air
Blown about by errant winds
Pecked at by bloated pigeons
Debated by chattering squirrels
And yet I sit with crumpled bag
Knowing I will return again
Replenishing the hope
That what little I offer
Is a gift for us all
The words are arguing
A mock debate
No rebuttal
A juxtapositional comparison
Of mirrored images
Seeking definition
The days weigh on me
An aged rudder struggles
To maintain a fading course
Yellowed sails doubting the breeze
Tremble as the shallows near
The landmarks seem more distant
The destination less definite
Joy remains
Yawning in the shadows
Sighing as it listens
To the chatter of life
Dancing in its memories
Mad as hatters, fed on matters
Older than, mercury and time,
Reflects the way we were made
By nervous webs, being spun
Deep inside Minerva's mind;
Like the way, we came of age
In misty mornings, spent reflecting
On our losses and our gains.
hearts song
words form in line
each cord a melody
formed by those seeking a loved one
love struck
I sat in a cellar, cold and dank
writing poetry that you said, "stank";
so now, I sit in a Left Bank cafe,
on a fine and fresh Spring Day,
where I turn to a colorful bird,
looking for a lyrical word,
but nothing issues from his beak.
Yet, suddenly, "Voila - Eurek" -
I hear my sandwich speak.
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