  Poetry
This week: Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
The Rose of Midnight
by Vachel Lindsay
The moon is now an opening flower,
The sky a cliff of blue.
The moon is now a silver rose;
Her pollen is the dew.
Her pollen is the mist that swings
Across her face of dreams:
Her pollen is the April rain,
Filling the April streams.
Her pollen is eternal life,
Endless ambrosial foam.
It feeds the swarming stars and fills
Their hearts with honeycomb.
The earth is but a passion-flower
With blood upon his crown.
And what shall fill his failing veins
And lift his head, bowed down?
This cup of peace, this silver rose
Bending with fairy breath
Shall lift that passion-flower, the earth
A million times from Death!
On The Garden Wall
by Vachel Lindsay
Oh, once I walked a garden
In dreams. 'Twas yellow grass.
And many orange-trees grew there
In sand as white as glass.
The curving, wide wall-border
Was marble, like the snow.
I walked that wall a fairy-prince
And, pacing quaint and slow,
Beside me were my pages,
Two giant, friendly birds.
Half swan they were, half peacock.
They spake in courtier-words.
Their inner wings a charriot,
Their outer wings for flight,
They lifted me from dreamland.
We bade those trees good-night.
Swiftly above the stars we rode.
I looked below me soon.
The white-walled garden I had ruled
Was one lone flower—the moon.
Nicholas Vachel Lindsay was born on November 10, 1879. Vachel was the second child born to Thomas and Kate Frazee Lindsay. Vachel's father was a well known physician and his mother influenced Vachel's artistic side. Though his family was very well off they faced a lot of hardships too. Vachel lost three of his sisters to scarlet fever. His father being a doctor blamed himself for the girls deaths because he was helping so many people in the town that had scarlet fever he left that he brought it home. Vachel went to Springfield Public Schools in the beginning. At the age of eleven he entered Stuart Grammar School of Springfield, which was a private school. He attended Springfield High School, where he was taught by Susan Wilcox. Ms. Wilcox became a great friend to Vachel that friendship continued throughout his life. She was the first person that got to read his poetry.
Thomas Lindsay did not want his son to become a poet and pushed him into studying medicine at Hiram College. He was there for almost three years but knew deep inside he was not meant to be a doctor. Finally His father agreed and Vachel went to the Chicago Art Institute. Over the next five years he studied mostly Egyptian art. Many of his paintings have poems that go with them like, "The Tree of Laughing Bells." Then there was "The Potatoes' Dance" to name a few. His first poem was published in 1913, "General William Booth Enters Heaven". Vachel published"The Congo and Other Poems" in 1914, then "A Handy Guide for Beggars: Especially Those of the Poetic Fraternity; Being Sundry Explorations ..." in 1916.
Vachel Lindsay married Elizabeth Connor on May 20, 1925. Vachel was forty-six and Elizabeth was only twenty-three years old. Their first child was a girl, Susan Doniphan, born on May 28, 1926 and their second was a boy, Nicholas Cave, born on September 16, 1927. During this time Vachel published a collection of poems "The Candle in the Cabin." In 1929 Vachel moved his family back to the house he was born in. Vachel's published "Every Soul is a Circus" that same year.
Vachel gave what was to be his last poetry reading on November 30, 1931
in his hometown of Springfield. Though the reading went well and Vachel's felt that he had finally won over Springfield, he was deeply depressed. His marriage was falling apart and financially he had many debts that he could not pay off. Vachel mental health had become more and more unstable. Then on December 5, 1931 at one in the morning Nicholas Vachel Lindsay took his own life.
By the Spring, at Sunset
by Vachel Lindsay
Sometimes we remember kisses,
Remember the dear heart-leap when they came:
Not always, but sometimes we remember
The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame
Of laughter and farewell.
Beside the road
Afar from those who said "Good-by" I write,
Far from my city task, my lawful load.
Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder,
Streaming clouds, banners of new-born night
Enchant me now. The splendors growing bolder
Make bold my soul for some new wise delight.
I write the day's event, and quench my drouth,
Pausing beside the spring with happy mind.
And now I feel those kisses on my mouth,
Hers most of all, one little friend most kind.
In Memory of a Child
by Vachel Lindsay
I
The angels guide him now,
And watch his curly head,
And lead him in their games,
The little boy we led.
II
He cannot come to harm,
He knows more than we know,
His light is brighter far
Than daytime here below.
III
His path leads on and on,
Through pleasant lawns and flowers,
His brown eyes open wide
At grass more green than ours.
IV
With playmates like himself,
The shining boy will sing,
Exploring wondrous woods,
Sweet with eternal spring.
V
Yet, he is lost to us,
Far is his path of gold,
Far does the city seem,
Lonely our hearts and old.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
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#1290800 by Not Available. |
Pebbles in the Sand
Drifting in shallow water
Resting in yesteryear's sun
Lined with shimmering pebbles
Buried in the shifting sand
Lies the few treasured remains
Of my glorious childhood
Laughter rides upon the wind
Dressed in clothes from yesterday
As doves sing to the angels
Of forgotten innocence
A gentle requiem of love
For an audience of one
Dawn's kiss of golden sunlight
Dances in the dark shadows
As responsibility
Offers a celebration
Drowned dreams rejoice in rebirth
Leading into adulthood
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Poetry: August 15, 2007 Issue [#1891]
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