The poetry thread

[George K]

[Aqua Letifer]

@George-K said in The poetry thread:

Why did they choose Emily Dickinson I wonder? Lots of poets used that meter at the time, it was very common.

And it came from music.The meter came from music. It's not a coincidence, there's a direct and intentional connection.

[Doctor Phibes]

A favourite from my childhood...

Matilda, Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death (1907)

Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes;

Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
Attempted to Believe Matilda:
The effort very nearly killed her,
And would have done so, had not She
Discovered this Infirmity.

For once, towards the Close of Day,
Matilda, growing tired of play,
And finding she was left alone,
Went tiptoe to the Telephone
And summoned the Immediate Aid
Of London's Noble Fire-Brigade.

Within an hour the Gallant Band
Were pouring in on every hand,
From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow
With Courage high and Hearts a-glow
They galloped, roaring through the Town
'Matilda's House is Burning Down!'
Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
They ran their ladders through a score
Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
The Pictures up and down the House,
Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded
In showing them they were not needed;
And even then she had to pay
To get the Men to go away!

It happened that a few Weeks later
Her Aunt was off to the Theatre
To see that Interesting Play
The Second Mrs Tanqueray.
She had refused to take her Niece
To hear this Entertaining Piece:
A Deprivation Just and Wise
To Punish her for Telling Lies.

That Night a Fire did break out-
You should have heard Matilda Shout!
You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
And throw the window up and call
To People passing in the Street-
(The rapidly increasing Heat
Encouraging her to obtain
Their confidence)-but all in vain!
For every time She shouted 'Fire!'
They only answered 'Little Liar'!
And therefore when her Aunt returned,
Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

[Aqua Letifer]

@Doctor-Phibes said in The poetry thread:

A favourite from my childhood...

Matilda, Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death (1907)

Classic. Always loved that one, too.

[Mik]

There's a fairy tale for that y'know. The boy who cried wolf.

But Matilda's is a better mental picture.

[Aqua Letifer]

Here's something that's interesting. This is from Lokasenna (Loki's Argument). Here's the original:

Veit ek, ef fyr útan værak,
svá sem fyr innan emk,
Ægis höll of kominn,
höfuð þitt bæra ek í hendi mér;
lykak þér þat fyr lygi.

Snjallr ertu í sessi,
skal-at-tu svá gera,
Bragi bekkskrautuðr;
vega þú gakk, ef þú vreiðr séir;
hyggsk vætr hvatr fyrir.

Yes yes I know "what the fuck etc." Here's a translation:

Bragi said:
If we were outside, and you had not come inside Aegir's hall, I would be holding your severed head. I'd pay you back that way for all your lies.
Loki said:
You're brave while you're sitting. But you wouldn't do that, Bragi, the benchwarmer. Go ahead and strike me, if you're so angry. A brave man wouldn't be afraid to do it.

"Benchwarmer" is an epithet that's about a thousand years old. Has a slightly different meaning now but that's how far back it goes. It's an old, old kenning.

[Mik]

Do tell..benchwarmer? I couldn't find anything over a couple googles..

[Aqua Letifer]

@Mik said in The poetry thread:

Do tell..benchwarmer? I couldn't find anything over a couple googles..

Yeah, y'know, someone on the team who doesn't play in the games.

In this context, it means that you're on the boat for the raiding party (they'd bring benches with them on the longboats to double as a storage locker and a seat for rowing), but you don't get out to fight, you just sit there.

[Mik]

Makes sense, in a Viking sort of way.

[Mik]

Man, does this resonate today.

[Aqua Letifer]

Yeats could certainly see what others couldn't.

[Horace]

Lions are orange.

[Mik]

@Aqua-Letifer said in The poetry thread:

Yeats could certainly see what others couldn't.

"The best lack all conviction
While the worst are full of passionate intensity"

[Horace]

yeah that line hits with some resonance of truth.

[Aqua Letifer]

@Mik said in The poetry thread:

Man, does this resonate today.

I didn't realize—today's the old man's birthday!

[Mik]

[Aqua Letifer]

Yeah. Appropriate for the season and one of my favorites, @Mik .

[Aqua Letifer]

This one's @Jolly 's fault. I read this story he posted:
https://nypost.com/2024/10/27/us-news/west-va-boys-build-road-so-helene-victims-can-go-home/

And then it occurred to me that America has no folk heroes anymore. Where are our John Henrys and Annie Oakleys? What happened to Paul Bunyan and Calamity Jane?

So I figured I'd do my part to commemorate these guys. They're certainly deserving of a folk ballad.

On 26 September,
The winds and rain arrived.
Helene, they learned, would have her way
As every road was washed away;
Against the storm, the swell and spray
Few houses had survived.

From Chimney Rock to Bat Cave,
The storm had cut them off.
They worried for their homes and wept;
Some pleaded for support—except
When governments are this inept,
No plea is strong enough.

But there were some who listened
And knew, amid the noise,
No bureaucrats or engineers
Would haul the roads or bridges clear;
That’s when the miners volunteered,
The West Virginia Boys.

They all arrived together
And brought the locals in—
They said like Noah’s flood it rained,
But when at last the water drained,
The mountain’s all that had remained
Of where the roads had been.

So could the Boys move mountains?
They all had little doubt.
“It’s difficult, but there are ways,”
They said, “To get that mountain razed,
Just give us all about three days—
We’ll have a road punched out.”

They got to work that morning
And knew just where to blast.
Within three days, a willing crew
(And sure, a couple backhoes, too)
Would do what no one else could do
And brought them home at last.

When DOT does nothing
And FEMA sends a squad
Of wonks who give you protocol
And you’re ignored by city hall,
Remember, you can always call
The Boys of West-By-God!

[Mik]

Look out, John Henry.. you got competition.

Well done, Aqua.

[Tom-K]

Cretins have it easy
They don't have to do anything to be what they are.
Me, I have to do everything
Maybe I'll get a lobotomy and drive a car.

My friend romanticizes cretins
and wants to drive a car,
Me, I like my beatings
And things the way they are.

[This is a Post-Structuralist interpretation of Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening".]