  Poetry
This week: Stephen Crane Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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Once I saw mountains angry
by Stephen Crane
Once I saw mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Aye, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed, and spoke to one near me,
"Will he prevail?"
"Surely," replied this other;
"His grandfathers beat them many times."
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers --
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the mountains.
Fast rode the knight
by Stephen Crane
Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady!"
Fast rode the knIght,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.
Stephen Crane was born November 5, 1871 in Newark, New Jersey. Crane was the youngest of fourteen children. Crane started writing around the age of eight. By the time he was sixteen he had published articles in the New York Tribune. Crane studied at two colleges, Lafayette College and Syracuse University, before quitting school to work as a free-lance writer for some local papers. Crane lived among the poor in Bowery slums while researching for his first novel, Maggie: A Girl of the Street published in 1893. For which he also dressed as a tramp for a night and spent it in a flophouse.
Crane's next novel was The Red Badge of Courage and it was published in 1895. It has been referred to as the first modern war novel. This book was considered to be based on a real solider because its story was so believable for its reads. Crane's collection of poems The Black Rider was published in 1895. With Cranes new found fame he found better reporting opportunities and was quickly placed as a war correspondent in combat areas.
Crane's new job had him moving all over. He travelled to Greece, Cuba, Texas and Mexico reporting on mostly current events dealing with the war. Crane wrote short story entitled 'The Open Boat,' which is said to be based on his experience when his ship sank in Cuba in 1896. Crane spent several days floating on the open sea before getting rescued, but not until after the sea had permanently impaired his health.
It was after his boat sank that he was offered a job with Hearst newspapers he was sent to Greece to cover the war between Greece and Turkey. Crane continued to write while on his travels, his collections include The Little Regiment in 1896, The Monster in 1899, and his second book of poetry was War Is Kind, published in 1899. Crane's health was failing and he wanted so badly to finish his last book Whilomville Stories which was published in 1900 just a couple months after Crane's death. Stephen Crane died on June 5, 1900, in Badenweiler, Germany, of tuberculosis. He was only 28 years old.
Should the wide world roll away,
by Stephen Crane
Should the wide world roll away,
Leaving black terror,
Limitless night,
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand
Would be to me essential,
If thou and thy white arms were there,
And the fall to doom a long way.
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winners of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] are:
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There was chaos at my house over the holidays
bows flying, colored paper ripping, dogs barking,
kitty hissing, baking smells, and Emily laughing.
It all blends together into a sweet, sweet haze.
The season after Thanksgiving started ever so slow;
four more long weeks of mind numbing work and toil
mixed with visits planned and cards to sign and send.
New Year dawned in a deep pile of wind blown snow.
My daughter came from sunny California to visit
only to find frigid temperatures and a gale blowing.
We cuddled and embraced mugs of hot cocoa,
but the quiet pause only lasted for a minute!
Soon the house was again a swirl of movement,
like a mini tornado or sea spout whirling around,
quickly spreading holiday cheer instead of sadness.
I think this is what 'Joy to the World' really meant!
Second Place:
Holiday Chaos
My house; your house
becomes their house
over the Holidays.
Theirs in oh so many ways.
The kids, grandkids
and great grandkids.
Theirs to let their dogs run;
theirs to jump on beds for fun.
Chaos did reign
over again,
there in our quiet home;
we weren't at peace or alone.
But Christmas is
a family biz.
Though we had a houseful
the mayhem made us thankful.
While these faces
warmed the places
more than the fires glow;
we're happy to see them go.
| | | Invalid Item
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CHRISTMAS CHAOS
There was chaos in my house over the holidays,
something completely different and a bit unique.
Christmas came before I was ready for the day,
funds were low, leaving the holiday looking bleak.
It was a Christmas to remember this December,
although it might be one that I'd rather forget.
The first tree brought in was Charlie Brownish,
so we went out and bought another, better yet.
It was the tree that welcomed the decorations
and showed them off with elegance and pride.
Untangled lights made Christmas brighter
even though there were no presents to hide.
Spirits were drooping more than the garland
as our thoughts turned to what we couldn't buy.
The church brought a basket for our dinner
and there was really no reason for me to cry.
It took us awhile to remember the reason,
just what the Christmas Day was all about.
it was easier on some to whine and to run
and let their emotions filter their way out.
Our old dog didn't see this year's Christmas,
had to be put down and that added to the pain,
even the old cat took on a lost, lonely look.
No, this Christmas at home was really insane.
Finally we stopped and counted our blessings
and remembered that God would get us through.
as the lights on the Christmas tree sparkled,
with bowed heads we at last knew what to do.
There was a lot of praying for His forgiveness
for not seeing that our blessings were much more
than the absence of presents and our troubles
soon packed up and left by way of the front door.
Life isn't just to be focused on the temptations
for wanting more than we have and cannot afford.
There will always be peace and no more chaos
when we think of others and give thanks to the Lord.
Countrymom
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Poetry: January 20, 2010 Issue [#3504]
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