Category Archives: Lyric

BOOKS: “Harlem Shadows” by Claude McKay

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Harlem Shadows (AmazonClassics Edition)Harlem Shadows by Claude McKay
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Project Gutenberg

This 1922 poetry collection is wide-ranging and beautifully composed. As the title hints, this is a product of that great literary and artistic movement known as the Harlem Renaissance.

The seventy-plus poems include sonnets and various other forms of poems, mostly lyric and rarely more than a couple pages in length. Besides being varied in form, they poems are also diverse of tone — from frank invectives on race to sweet love poems. They take New York as their home and tap into the verve of the day. The collection includes many of McKay’s best-known poems including: “If We Must Die,” “America,” and “Harlem Shadows.” Though bucolic beauties such as “Spring in New Hampshire” and “The Snow-Fairy” are not to be skipped over.

I enjoyed these poems and found them powerful and lyrical.

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“The Clod and the Pebble” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

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"Love seeketh not itself to please,
   Nor for itself hath any care,
 But for another gives its ease,
   And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."

So sung a little Clod of Clay
   Trodden with the cattle's feet,
 But a Pebble of the brook
   Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only self to please,
   To bind another to its delight,
 Joys in another's loss of ease,
    And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."

“Fame is a Bee” (1788) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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Fame is a bee.
 It has a song --
 It has a sting --
 Ah, too, it has a wing.

Days of Wonder [Lyric Poem]

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Some say they miss days of wonder,
   But I think I see their blunder.
 Those thrilling days, they never left;
   It's something of one's soul, bereft.
 That fatal flaw of lacking awe
   Is from not seeing, cause you saw.

“Beauty” [Poetry Style # 9] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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When one makes god of wealth,
 Light glows from yellow "gold,"
 But the lavish withers --
 Even as its deeps take hold.

Fog at the river's edge.
 Red apricots, woods enfold.
 Moon shine on bower's flowers.
 Painted bridge in green shadow.
 An old bowl full of wine,
 As a friend's lute song unfolds.
Make your bliss of such things,
 And they will be your true gold.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the ninth of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 绮丽, and its translated titles include: “Beautiful,” “Intricate,” and “Embroideries.”

“The Very Self” by Walter de la Mare [w/ Audio]

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Clear eyes, beneath clear brows, gaze out at me,
 Clear, true and lovely things therein I see;
 Yet mystery, past ev'n naming, takes their place
 As mine stay pondering on that much-loved face.

“I taste a liquor never brewed” (214) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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I taste a liquor never brewed --
  From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
 Not all the Frankfort Berries
   Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of air -- I am --
  And Debauchee of Dew --
 Reeling -- thro' endless summer days --
   From inns of molten blue --

When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
  Out of the Foxglove's door --
 When Butterflies -- renounce their "drams" --
   I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
  And Saints -- to windows run --
 To see the little Tippler 
   Leaning against the -- Sun!

“Dreamland” by Lewis Carroll [w/ Audio]

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When midnight mists are creeping,
   And all the land is sleeping,
 Around me tread the mighty dead,
   And slowly pass away.

Lo, warriors, saints, and sages,
   From out the vanished ages,
 With solemn pace and reverend face
   Appear and pass away.

The blaze of noonday splendour,
   The twilight soft and tender,
 May charm the eye: yet they shall die,
   Shall die and pass away.

But here, in Dreamland's centre,
   No spoiler's hand may enter,
 These visions fair, this radiance rare,
   Shall never pass away.

I see the shadows falling,
   The forms of old recalling;
 Around me tread the mighty dead,
   And slowly pass away.

“Cleansed” [Poetry Style #7] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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It's as if ones gone mining --
   From lead, silver refining.
 That's how one cleanses a heart:
   With pure love, not pining.

Like a pond from Spring rainfall:
   Mirror to heavens and all,
 Without defect of image --
   True as the moon's bright, white ball.

Stargazing across night skies;
   Singing songs of hermits, wise;
 The water flowing today
   Will know that bright moonrise.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the seventh of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 洗炼, and it has been variously entitled: “Clean,” “Refining,” and “Wash — Smelt.”

BOOKS: “The Song of Hiawatha” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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The Song of HiawathaThe Song of Hiawatha by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Project Gutenberg edition

This epic poem borrows from American Indian folklore and legend to build a fictional life story for the protagonist, Hiawatha. (There was an actual Hiawatha, but his life story apparently in no way resembles that of Longfellow’s Hiawatha, which is good because the fictional one had to deal with ghosts, tricksters, and deities.) The poem is part hero’s trials, part love story, and part tale of the supernatural, blending real world type tragedy with an otherworldly form.

The choice of trochaic tetrameter makes the poem rhythmically readable, while evoking a drumming sound that contributes to atmospherics.

When the poem came out in the mid-19th century, it faced some controversy. It was claimed that it was a knock off of the Kalevala of Finland. Longfellow’s reply was that he was influenced by that poem’s rhythm (the Kalevala is also trochaic,) but that all the plot events where from his conversations with American Indians and researchers, thereof, (or, presumably his own imagination,) and that any coincidence of events was owing to the broad brushstrokes of them both being heroic tales.

I enjoyed reading this poem and would highly recommend it for poetry readers and lovers of American Literature.






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