I was feeling overwrought
And somewhat out of sorts,
When my heart was caught
By a little girl who sang.
Joy into my soul sprang
And her father gave me a strawberry juicy and red.
Few words where said,
Yet my heart was fed
By fruit and a child
Who did beguile
Me to smile
On a crowded train,
Soothing my racing brain.
—
Thank you to the man, his wife and their little girl who touched my heart on the way home from the office last week.
I had originally commented on this post stating that “1st September 1939” can be found in “The New Oxford Book of English verse”. However, on checking I find that I am mistaken. While several of Auden’s poems do appear in “The New Oxford Book” “1st September 1939” does not. It can, however be found in “The Penguin Book of English Verse”, edited by John Hayward. Faber and Faber. 1956 edition.
The best Auden poems
W. H. Auden (1907-1973) wrote a great deal of poetry, with many of his best-loved poems being written in the 1930s. In this post, we’ve taken on the difficult task of finding the ten greatest Auden poems – difficult because, although certain poems naturally rise to the surface and proclaim their greatness, there are quite a few of those. Here’s our top ten. Are there any classic poems by Auden that we’ve left off the list? Click on the title of each poem to read it.
‘Stop all the clocks’. Also known as ‘Funeral Blues’, this poem, one of Auden’s ‘Twelve Songs’ originally published in 1936, needs no introduction, perhaps. Since it was recited in the funeral in the 1994 film Four Weddings and a Funeral, it achieved worldwide fame and brought Auden’s poetry to a whole new audience.
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A worrying post. My books are not enrolled in Kindle Unlimited and this article means that I wont be enrolling any of my titles. Kevin
There’s this indie author I know a little bit from the Kboards.com forum. Her name is Pauline Creeden, and she’s an ordinary midlister, like so many of us. I remember PMing her some time ago and gushing about how particularly beautiful one of her book covers is — the one for Chronicles of Steele: Raven.
Here, I’ll include an image. Gorgeous, eh?
Anyway, today I tuned in to Kboards and noticed that Pauline had started a thread. It contained what’s surely the worst news possible for an indie author: Amazon had closed her publishing account. All her ebooks had been taken off sale. Permanently. Here’s the email she got from Amazon:
We are reaching out to you because we have detected that borrows for your books are originating from systematically generated accounts. While we support the legitimate efforts of our publishers to promote their books, attempting to manipulate…
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Thank you to Jayne King for her poem, “The invigilator”. The below poem is copyright Jayne King and may not be reproduced without the explicit written permission of Jayne King.
—
Being an invigilator,
Is there anything more boring?
Scanning the hall.
Toing and froing.
Trying to be alert,
So I can respond quickly to a raised hand.
Wishing I could sit like the others.
But instead, having to stand.
How slowly the time passes,
Seemingly standing still.
There’s movement all around me,
But somehow the time stays still.
Seconds turn to minutes,
A minute lasts an hour.
Some students offer small, tired smiles,
Others just sit and glower.
‘Tis true
The sun
Will still run
Through heaven, when all is said and done
And the birds Will
Continue to trill
As morning doth break
On a brave act, or a profound mistake …
“A man’s home is his castle, where freedom does reign.
I maintain
he may do as he will,
Provided of course
That he does no ill …
A gentleman may entertain
Whom he pleases
Though the Gorgon seizes
Every chance
To kill romance
And the stain
Of disipation
Shocks the nation
Who read of vicars capers
In papers.
Sometimes I swear
There is no real news out there …”.
Pangaea Poetry, an international poetry organisation, are looking for poets from across the world to take part in their 3rd annual poetry slam in July.
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Many thanks to Zainab Sheik for taking the time to read and review my collection of poetry, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”. You can find her review here, https://abibliophilesobsession.wordpress.com/2016/06/12/review-lost-in-the-labyrinth-of-my-mind-by-k-morris/.
Kevin
I heard a sigh
And saw two ghosts who did lie
In a bed
Where the living dead
Meet.
“Your feet
Are cold”
She said.
He answered not for thoughts of misspent gold
Filled his sorrowing head.
“I dread being alone”
He did remark.
“The choice is not so stark
For there is always the telephone
And all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds
With Pangloss and party girls …”.
Let the writer take up surgery or bricklaying if he is interested in technique. There is no mechanical way to get the writing done, no shortcut. The young writer would be a fool to follow a theory. Teach yourself by your own mistakes; people learn only by error. The good artist believes that nobody is good enough to give him advice. He has supreme vanity. No matter how much he admires the old writer, he wants to beat him.
