Poetry
This week: Edited by: Becky Simpson More Newsletters By This Editor
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Christmas is over; thank goodness, all the parties, and all the shopping malls are behind us. Now it’s time for us to make resolutions and to decide what to accomplish in the coming year. I would hazard a guess that you haven’t thought about your writing yet. Well, let me play the part of your conscience. What are you willing to commit to accomplishing this year? You could start by writing a New Year’s poem. Need some help getting started? Okay, let’s see what some others have said on the subject and see if we can’t find some grain of inspiration.
I invite you to put up your snow shovels, slip into last year’s bikini…oops, wrong month… and take one more dose of anti-hangover medicine, as we take a look at poetry dedicated to New Years. Along with that, I will provide you with this week’s list of favorite poets. In closing I will answer the feedback from the last edition, listing the winners of the gift points.Becky Simpson
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Ever had writers block sitting there trembling in front of your computer, straining every neuron you have in your over-exercised and slightly inebriated mind, trying to decide what you should write on “this time.” I do all the time, well, except for the inebriated part (I don’t drink, and honestly is doesn’t look like much fun.) As it happens this time you, my hopefully faithful readers, have an outstanding opportunity to watch me as I overheat my brain. Well, not really, because I did what I always do when I get stressed out: I went out and bought a new computer. This time it was a Sony Vaio AX. Surely there has to be some inspiration in that marvelously put together example of technology.
Okay, enough about my struggles, let’s look at some others efforts to find their muse and use it to write poetry. My first victim..er involuntary co-author is someone I respect greatly, our very own COUNTRYMOM-JUST REMEMBER ME . She has her own solution to the problem of making New Years’ resolutions in "Invalid Item"
NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS
We make them, we break them!
So this year, it seems to me
That I won't make a single one
(I just like living free!)
I won't be tied down by promises
That I have made to myself!
Instead, I'll try to plan ahead
And keep my worries on a shelf!
So I got on the computer
And typed myself a list
Of all the things I need to DO
With not too many missed.
I put down the important stuff
Like plans for the New Year;
I'll find the time to do it all -
Hopeless? Never fear!
If I accomplish every thing
That I've set out to do,
It will be a major miracle;
That's why I'm telling you
That I've made no resolutions,
Have no promises to keep -
Plans have a way of changing,
And, well - I need my sleep.
So I've taken out the stress
Of resolutions, this is clear;
If I don't get it done in 2004
I'll do some of it next year!
Countrymom
1/1/04
But wait, this isn’t the advice I wanted to give. You poets out there ignore this one for sure; don’t put it off; get your list out and make a poem out of it. C’mon you can do it. Or maybe you could just make a poem out of all the resolutions you are planning on breaking. I was teasing about ignoring this poem, as I said, COUNTRYMOM-JUST REMEMBER ME is one of my favorites and has been since her first review of one of my works. It is time to see what some of our more prestigious brethren have to offer about New Years.
New Year’s Eve
Robert Service
It’s cruel cold on the water-front, silent and dark and drear;
Only the black tide weltering, only the hissing snow;
And I, alone, like a storm-tossed wreck, on this night of the glad New Year,
Shuffling along in the icy wind, ghastly and gaunt and slow.
They’re playing a tune in McGuffy’s saloon, and it’s cheery and bright in there
(God! but I’m weak—since the bitter dawn, and never a bite of food);
I’ll just go over and slip inside—I mustn’t give way to despair—
Perhaps I can bum a little booze if the boys are feeling good.
They’ll jeer at me, and they’ll sneer at me, and they’ll call me a whiskey soak;
(”Have a drink? Well, thankee kindly, sir, I don’t mind if I do.”)
A drivelling, dirty, gin-joint fiend, the butt of the bar-room joke;
Sunk and sodden and hopeless—”Another? Well, here’s to you!”
McGuffy is showing a bunch of the boys how Bob Fitzsimmons hit;
The barman is talking of Tammany Hall, and why the ward boss got fired.
I’ll just sneak into a corner and they’ll let me alone a bit;
The room is reeling round and round . . .O God! but I’m tired, I’m tired. . . .
* * * * *
Roses she wore on her breast that night. Oh, but their scent was sweet!
Alone we sat on the balcony, and the fan-palms arched above;
The witching strain of a waltz by Strauss came up to our cool retreat,
And I prisoned her little hand in mine, and I whispered my plea of love.
Then sudden the laughter died on her lips, and lowly she bent her head;
And oh, there came in the deep, dark eyes a look that was heaven to see;
And the moments went, and I waited there, and never a word was said,
And she plucked from her bosom a rose of red and shyly gave it to me.
Then the music swelled to a crash of joy, and the lights blazed up like day,
And I held her fast to my throbbing heart, and I kissed her bonny brow.
“She is mine, she is mine for evermore!” the violins seemed to say,
And the bells were ringing the New Year in—O God! I can hear them now.
Don’t you remember that long, last waltz, with its sobbing, sad refrain?
Don’t you remember that last good-by, and the dear eyes dim with tears?
Don’t you remember that golden dream, with never a hint of pain,
Of lives that would blend like an angel-song in the bliss of the coming years?
Oh, what have I lost! What have I lost! Ethel, forgive, forgive!
The red, red rose is faded now, and it’s fifty years ago.
’Twere better to die a thousand deaths than live each day as I live!
I have sinned, I have sunk to the lowest depths—but oh, I have suffered so!
Hark! Oh, hark! I can hear the bells! . . . Look! I can see her there,
Fair as a dream . . . but it fades . . . And now—I can hear the dreadful hum
Of the crowded court . . . See! the Judge looks down . . .
NOT GUILTY, my Lord, I swear . . .
The bells—I can hear the bells again! . . . Ethel, I come, I come! . . .
* * * * *
“Rouse up, old man, it’s twelve o’clock. You can’t sleep here, you know.
Say! ain’t you got no sentiment? Lift up your muddled head;
Have a drink to the glad New Year, a drop before you go—
You darned old dirty hobo . . . My God! Here, boys! He’s DEAD!”
I need to revise my search routines. This poem is quite depressing or so it seems to me. Except: you will notice please that the hobo joins his beloved at the end of this poem. The description of his proposal brought a tear and a smile to my face. That certainly raised the sadness level of this work. It seems our chosen subject enjoys little attention from poets. Yet as I sit here beating the keys with passion and desire, I know we must have further examples. Something grand to inspire you to pick up your pen and scribble just a few lines of poetry. There, there you go, a perfect resolution to scribble but a few lines.
Sometimes all it takes is just a few lines as you can see in our next offering by a relatively new poet on Writing.Com. As we present a Nonet by our own Cookie ~ contemplatingareturn entitled "Invalid Item" .
New Years Resolution Confusion
I'll only have a couple sips
That's being a hypocrite
I'll run a mile a day
Am I that unfit
No cigarettes
Oh, why not
Success?
Joke!
A Nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc... until line nine that finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.
Okay, now listen closely, success is what Writing.Com is all about. Do you hear me? Our Cookie ~ contemplatingareturn is relatively new, and I sent her a review of her poem with some suggested changes. That’s what is so wonderful about this site. You can fix the things that would keep you from success. It is our objective to accomplish that resolution completely. So do not fear, problems you hear, your words endear, readers far and near! Yuck can’t believe I did that. Press on as we try to find a fitting end to this slightly comedic newsletter.
Our next offering brings us back to the actual celebration of the New Year as Ice is Back! bares his soul for us to see in his poem "Invalid Item" .
I hear a voice cut through the party,
"One minute left, come on HURRY!"
I quit my game and put down the controller.
Everyone watched as the countdown came closer.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...
I can't even hear the clock as it ticks.
Across the room I caught your glance.
It was almost as if I was in a trance.
In the last seconds of the year,
I tried put aside some of my past fear.
Everyone, but us are getting loud.
I guess we're just soaring among the clouds.
Five, four, three, two, one...
In that second a new year has begun.
I couldn't get right next you,
for too many people stood in the room.
I was a few steps from you, I felt trapped.
Then, like magic, it happened.
I found the way to start the year.
"I love you" I mouthed. A smile started to appear.
"I love you too"I saw come from your smiling face.
You know that takes me to another place.
This feeling of love hung in the air,
You'll always have your Teddybear.
This is the start to our years, the perfect start,
My Angel, I now know we'll never be apart.
As I read this one I was reminded that I often call the man I love my Teddybear or Booger (sorry our secret is out.) This is more like what I was looking for, the promise brought by the turning of the leaf of the calendar. A New Year and new promise. Surely your muse is aching to get started by now. No? Then let Ron Frisbey (Biscuit) show you how to find inspiration, and all you have to do is think of a loved one. This is his poem "Invalid Item" :
To you on this New Years Eve...
may the coming year bring you joy
may the sun shine down on a cloudy day
may the rain stop when you go out.
My wish to you is happiness in life
free of the darkness and full of the light
with sandy beaches and waters so blue
and dreams of the palm trees I know will come true.
When you look up in the heavens
the stars are there for you alone
glittering in the nights sky so bright
there to help to guide you home.
So on this night of nights as I think of you
my inspiration across the seas of life
I hope you will have the best of New Years
as you wake up into the mornings new light......
Surely there is at least one person you love, or thing you love to do. Don’t disappoint me. Let your creativity come out. Having invested in this computer to push me into writing this newsletter, I know you can never be sure what is going to spur your muse. Sometimes as I sleep, things pop into my blonde head, and I wake up with a phrase or a word that won’t go away. I am sure to keep a pen and paper handy just in case I need to write it down. All too often though, it haunts me like a merciless ghost until I explore its possibilities. Should you do the same? I can’t say; all I can say is in this world God has made so many wonders and man so many things that there must be something that will click in you. If it’s your new PSP then, go for it, rave about it, be brave for it. Oh, and poetically describe it.
It wouldn’t be proper if we didn’t end our selections with a poem that gets right to the point. For this I have chosen a poet that is well known on Writing.Com and elsewhere, she has published both a book of short stories and a book of poetry. Here is her offering "New Beginnings" as our Vivian gives us her take on New Years.
New Beginnings
The bells ring out the New Year’s start
As the woman views her calendar
On the desk, blank spaces staring back
From beside black dates on each page.
She glances at the list of days
From the year before, each spot covered,
Crowded words and appointments
That summarized the hectic time.
As her eyes return to the empty places,
She smiles because she realizes
New beginnings await, ready to be filled:
How remains mainly up to her.
Bravo Viv, you hit the nail on the head. What you accomplish this year is totally up to you. So, poets to your desks, take out pen and paper, or that old laptop and GET BUSY. Please note on a personal basis this isn't bad advice either. People on Writing.Com encourage each other to obtain new heights in their writing. Through contests, challenges, personal interaction, making suggestions, passing on opportunities. You are on the best site now make the best of it.
As we wind down the hours to New Years, I want to leave you with a useful bit of information. There is a publication that is venerated in the literary world called Poetry. It had been in publication for seventy years when it had run into difficulties. It was scheduled for extinction. Miraculously a very wealthy heiress, Ruth Lilly, blessed them with a bequest of $100,000,000. They now have a readership of 27,000. I would love to subscribe to this publication and find some of our Writing.Com poets published there. The article I read was published in the New York Sun and is available online at http://www.nysun.com/article/24685. If you would like to have a peek at the magazine its web address is: http://www.poetrymagazine.org/. Drop in; I am sure you will discover something wonderful.
That finishes another newsletter. I hope you have discovered something you can use in your own poetry and perhaps opened your mind to yet another facet of poetry. Until the next issue keep writing, and let’s resolve to get published this year. I will be looking for you in the poetry publication.
Tip of the Day:Inspiration is at your fingertips every moment of every day. Simply open your heart and mind to whats around you.
Next Month:Cowboy Poetry
I am always at your service.
Becky L Simpson
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The following members of Writing.Com are some of my favorite poets on Writing.Com. They exhibit and understanding and skill that, simply put, amaze me. I hope those I have forgotten will forgive me, but as time goes on and my memory prods, me this list will change.
Vivian
reblackwell
COUNTRYMOM-JUST REMEMBER ME
Ann Ticipation
Tornado Day
Lexi
daycare
SUGGESTED READINGS:
I call these poets and poems works of the week. Some will be by cases of all colors, as skill is not determined by your case color. Just five or six poems I think you might enjoy.
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| | Predawn Trail (E) In Japan, it's the custom to see the dawn on New Years. This was my first, long ago. #915680 by Kotaro |
| | Invalid Item This item number is not valid. #433052 by Not Available. |
CONTESTS:
This issues challenge is all or nothing, I will give the prize to the best poem I receive about any subject. I will be the only judge and as such I would ask you to submit your work to me by email in bitem format. The prize for this challenge is 20,000 points, and I shall highlight your work in a coming newsletter. Good luck!
WINNERS LAST TIME:
Mark - 2000 points
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Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter! https://www.Writing.Com/go/nl_form
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Questions and comments from last week, my thanks to those who wrote in:
Submitted By:Lou-Here By His Grace
Submitted Comment:
Thank you for sharing the poem from Kings (Carl). He is truly a gifted writer!
Hi,
Oh I agree totally Garl is an amazing poet there is no surprise that he is among the top rated poets on the site. - Hugs - Becky
Submitted By:Mark
Submitted Comment:
Hi Becky, fantastic newsletter, as always well thought out and clearly researched. I wrote this poem Christmas Eve, to send to many friends and family, hoping it would show at least some of what they mean to me.
~ Mark
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Hi Mark,
Thank you for your very kind comments. I hope that you don't mind that I post your item here so more can see some of your work. Keep writing, keep sharing, and we will all keep reading.
Hugs - Becky
To the rest of you kind readers who made comments about October’s newsletter; thank you. If it were not for your kind words I would be inclined to find another way to spend the time I spend here.
If you have a question, comment or just an observation concerning this edition of the Poetry Newsletter please feel free to send it to me. I would also like our poetry newsletter readers to send me their favorite poem. Please include the poet’s name. I prefer poets from Writing.Com.
Next weeks editor:Stormy Lady
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