Something else is alive

Came across this (unknown, to me) Ted Hughes poem on the ever-gorgeous dovegreyreader today ...

The Thought Fox

I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

Ted Hughes

I really respond to Ted Hughes’s poetry. I was taken out of the office for one brief still, powerful moment of abstraction in a busy day. Thanks, dovegreyreader. I needed that.

National Poetry Day

[Picture from http://www.poetryarchive.org]

I just realised it's National Poetry Day. Go over to Poetry Archive immediately and read this gorgeous poem - you can even listen to the great man himself reading it.

Poetry Archive | The Whitsun Weddings by Philip Larkin

For I Will Consider My Cat

I recently rediscovered this eighteenth century poem by Christopher Smart in a (rather odd) collection of patriotic poems I found in a charity shop.

It is the very picture of feline behaviour.

I especially like the line 'wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness', which I think of every time our puss gets comfy on the sofa - inevitably in the exact spot you were about to sit it.

For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry (Jubilate Agno by Christopher Smart)

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having consider'd God and himself he will consider his neighbour.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness ...'

This is just a snippet, you can read the whole Jeoffry section here.

There's also a version set to music by Benjamin Britten here. 

[http://thisbutterflymind.blogspot.com/]

In the bleak midwinter

13:365
Originally uploaded by ByBlanca

Because it's Christmas Eve, because it's -2oC outside, and because I have just completed the first draft of my Christina Rossetti essay:




In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

Photo is from ByBlanca's lovely Flickr photostream.

[http://www.thisbutterflymind.blogspot.com]

Rain, rain, rain

Rain on spiderweb
Originally uploaded by IanEv

A poem for the rainy windy weather:

Like Rain it sounded till it curved
- Emily Dickinson


Like Rain it sounded till it curved
And then I knew 'twas Wind --
It walked as wet as any Wave
But swept as dry as sand --
When it had pushed itself away
To some remotest Plain
A coming as of Hosts was heard
It filled the Wells, it pleased the Pools
It warbled in the Road --
It pulled the spigot from the Hills
And let the Floods abroad --
It loosened acres, lifted seas
The sites of Centres stirred
Then like Elijah rode away
Upon a Wheel of Cloud.

[http://thisbutterflymind.blogspot.com]

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote

Pinch, punch, first of the month…

Well, as the poet says, this month is all about sap rising and Spring springing:

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote

The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote,

And bathed every veyne in swich licour,

Of which vertu engendred is the flour

But today's theme seems to be tend more to biting gale force winds, so perhaps a little T.S.Eliot would be more apposite instead?

April is the cruellest month, breeding      

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing             

Memory and desire, stirring         

Dull roots with spring rain.          

Even so, talking of stirring dull roots, the plum tree in the garden is covered in dainty pale pink blossom. Ephemeral, perfect only in the moment of falling, as the Japanese see it, but beautiful and spring-like nonetheless. And therefore worthy of celebration!

[http://www.thisbutterflymind.blogspot.com/]

Inspiring art

Here's two great art projects I read about recently:

Knit A Poem
Conceived to celebrate the Poetry Society's centenary and inspired by National Poet for Wales Gwyneth Lewis's lovely piece "How to knit a poem", crafters the world over are creating individual letters of a mystery poem to be revealed in October.

The Photographic Dictionary
A collection of evocative, atmospheric, haunting images, which define word through figurative, literal and personally infused representations. Beautiful. Like seeing life through another's gaze.