Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

A Friend's Wife Passed Away

A friend's wife passed away...


Tears in my eyes
Because a friend
has lost his mate
but it is not forever!

There will come a day
When they will be together
And on that day
They will kiss as never before.

Their hearts will be one
As they wished they were
When they lived on earth
But were separated by the wall


The Wall comes tumbling down
No separation on that day
No sin will come between
The love they have for one another




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Friday, August 22, 2008

Rhymes of a Lost Battalion Doughboy

Found what I think to be is a great book of poetry. Rhymes of a Lost Battalion Doughboy Wonderfully illustrated by Private Franklin Bly of "The Lost Battalion". - I've made free printable scans available for downloading in its entirety. (link below) - Send this link to those you think might be interested especially those in the military.

"Buck Private" McCollum and Buddies are the authors of several poems in a 28 page booklet. All were members of the 1st, 2nd, and some from the 3rd Battalions of the 308th Infantry, 77th Division. They were really 2 battalions and not singular as the title denotes. Led by Major Whittlesey and Capt. McMurty they were not really 'lost' but were cut off and found themselves in two separate traps of the enemy within 10 days. Through great suffering and privation those who survived numbered much less than those who went in. A short history of their ordeal is included in the booklet and along with the poem, The Fight of the Lost Battalion.






Through these poems, written in 1919, there are indications that much remains the same in war even when nearly 100 years and much technology separates the events.

I've scanned and uploaded the cover and pages of this booklet to make it available to everyone. There are also copies available online (Check Bookfinder.com - Rhymes of a Lost Battalion Doughboy in the title box) - but use care when ordering. Some unscrupulous bookdealers overcharge for newly published booklets. 1919 appears to be the first published edition.






The booklet in it's entirety can be downloaded from the links below. They were scanned at 150 DPI - Zip filed in a 24 MB folder - They can be printed out on 8-1/2"x11" and turned into a booklet if one so desires. Feel free to email the link or a link to this posting. Especially to those in our armed forces that you think might enjoy it.

http://preview.tinyurl.com/Lost-Battalion
or
http://www.adrive.com/public/927c7dfb32330ed258dbf968c404b5d4e3052891048a3afbad54b8abdb2a36c7.html


Thanks and hat tip to Adrive.com for the free hosting...
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Sunday, January 20, 2008

Once Again! The Lost Poetry Corner

Listed a bunch of "Unknown and Lost Poets" this weekend. I really mean UNKNOWN!!! - Googled the names of both books and authors, separate and together with quotes, without quotes and most didn't even register.

They used a vanity press and did not know how to market themselves. The copies I got are all like new 'review copies' that were sent to Dion O'Donnol because he did promote poets and poetry through various means. Newsletters, clubs etc... - All published in 1980.

Even so, after 28 years of no promotions, being manufactured prior to the Internet explosion these names are virtually unknown. So if I expect to sell the books I better promote them. - To quote Ralph Kramden, 'And Away We Go'.

The following Lost Poem comes from "Poetry to Remember" by Sara Webb Keaton - Publisher: Dorrance and Company - 1980 (First Edition, not stated) - All I could find other than the copy I have listed at my book store is three copies stuck in the bowels of Higher Education Libraries. (Saw them through WorldCat)

A bunch of different subjects are poeticized in this book but I'm a slow typist and am only going to give you one. This is one I liked.



Margin of Profit

"I'll trade my dog for your wagon,"
Said Tommy to big Biff Lane.
"And I'll throw in my football too
And also my watch and chain."

"I'll trade." said Biff, "I like your dog.
Come! Flash, old boy, now you're mine."
Little Tommy smiled, he had a new ball,
and the watch didn't keep good time.

"Flash had always come back,"
Tommy mused as he happily rolled away.
"Gee! this was great, it was real fun,
He couldn't help it if Flash wouldn't stay."

He had traded before for this thing and that
And always came out ahead.
He was getting tired, it was time to go home,
But he must wait on Flash instead.

Morning came and still no dog.
Biff Lane must have him on a leash.
Now Flash was no longer his,
This had gone far beyond his wish.

With tear stained eyes he traded back
And paid extra a 'bit of cash'.
But never again did he speculate
Or trade off his good dog Flash.






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Sunday, January 06, 2008

The Hammer Throw
Poetry by William Lindsey

From "The Little Book of Sports". Poetry compiled and edited by Wallace and Frances Rice. published by The Reilly & Britton Co, in 1910.

I offered to type this out in comments to my previous post on this book. Cary Cartter agreed to let me. Here it is...



We are the children of the strong god Thor
We hurl his hammer through the hollow sky;
No task is this for feeble hands to try:
This is the sport that men and gods adore.

A giant race are we, who each in turn
Step in the magic circle's narrow ring
Around our heads the old god's hammer swing,
And send it whirling where the sunbeams burn.

Our fingers twine the handle tightly round,
Firm as a mountain oak we plant our feet,
With one long breath, filling each cell complete,
We lift and swing the dead weight from the ground.

Around our heads we swing with quickening speed,
The hot blood pressing in each swollen vein,
Each muscle corded with its mighty strain,
The handle bending like a river reed.

A step, a turn, and staggering, we hurl
The heavy hammer whistling through the air;
We watch it in the sunbeams fly and flare;
We see it settle with a thud and whirl.

All can not win; our giant game is o'er;
'T is better to be last in such a test,
Than in a little sport to rank the best;
We are the children of the strong god Thor.

~ ~ ~ ~ William Lindsey ~ ~ ~ ~




Feel free to comment.




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Saturday, January 05, 2008

Little Book of Sports
Sports Poems from
The Little Book Series

Came across a jewel of a book today. It combines two of my least favorite things. Poetry and Sports.

Well maybe 'least favorite' is overstated. Cleaning up after my dog is way above each of those.

Really, poetry is OK if it rhymes and says something. If I have to think about what it says it has lost me as a customer. But some people like that 'New Verse' so to each his own... I loved Hiawatha for example. Read the whole thing twice in my life. Might read it again someday. - And sports like baseball, basketball and football is great to watch if I'm tied in a chair with toothpicks holding my eyes open. I do like to watch gymnastics and snow skiing so I'm not against all sports...

Anyway. The pick of the week for my poetry posting is a neat little book called "The Little Book of Sports". Poetry compiled and edited by Wallace and Frances Rice. published by The Reilly & Britton Co, in 1910 and as stated in the title of this posting part of "The Little Book Series" whose other titles I've listed at the bottom of this post.

Thirty-two different sports listed in the Index of Sports and forty names listed in the Index of Authors. Seventy-seven poems total.

Some of the sports are Baseball (Casey at the Bat of course with 5 others.), Football (5), Hammer Throwing (1), Fishing (3), and Golf (8). Some are funny, some serious. - Of course I like the funny ones.

Here is a quick one on Cycling by John Joy Bell that shows that at the turn of the last century there was a different set of traffic problems...



I'd rather be a cyclist
Than any other beast,
For though he slays he never stays
upon the slain to feast.

It's pleasant to remember,
While lying on the stones,
How though you're dead, you needn't dread
That he will pick your bones.

He comes! You fall! He's gone! That's all!
He Doesn't mind the least.
Oh I'd rather be a cyclist
Than any other beast.

~ ~ ~ John Joy Bell ~ ~ ~
1871-1934



Other titles listed on the back page of this book:

Little Book of Love
Little Book of Kisses
Little Book of Friendship
Little Book of Brides
Little Book of Sports
Little Book of Out of Doors
Little Book of Cheer
Little Book of Lullabies
Little Book of Laughter
Little Book of Schooldays
Little Book of Bohemia
all edited and compiled by Wallace and Frances Rice.
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Friday, November 09, 2007

From a Tuned Harp by Winifred R. Myers'
(near) Lost Poetry Corner

I found a couple other copies of this book online so it is not quite "Lost Poetry" but it is close. - At this point in time there is a copy on eBay for .99¢ but the shipping is where the seller makes up for the low price. Looks like a clean copy though... A couple others can be found through BookFinder.com

Anyway - Here is some of the lowdown on the book:
Title: From a Tuned Harp -
Author: Myers, Winifred R. -
Publisher: Wagon and Star Press - Dion O'Donnol - W. Los Angeles, CA - Copyright: 1951 - 44 pages (no index) - 31 poems total -

To the best of my knowledge this is a single printing item. Unless the print on demand folks get hold of it and jack the price of a NEW COPY up to a kazillion dollars... (When buying books online do some research!!! Know what you want and why. Is it for reading, collecting or a gift copy. The difference between collectible and readers copy can be big bucks but so is resale value...- Email the seller! Don't be shy to ask questions or to ask for pictures.)

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And follows a couple sample poems. I will say, of the poems I read I liked these two best so use your own judgment if you want this volume on your bookshelf...


Oven Altar

If by some recipe, I'd bake
A perfectly heavenly sort of cake,
I'd never feel
That I could kneel
And offer it to God!
God dispenses-mortals take-
They should give gratitude, not cake!

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Retreat

A tiny terraced garden on a lovely, lonely hill-
Below a river singing,
Above a bird awinging, Beyond, a bell, sweet, ringing;
Peace, my heart be still.

I hear the sleepy birds give their last twilight trill-
Here purple dusk comes clinging,
A sweet perfume bringing,
O'er all a frail moon swinging;
Rest, my heart, lie still!




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Sunday, October 28, 2007

Lost Poetry Corner - Land of the Lakes by Alice Bowerson Grinnell

Came across a poetry book, Land of the Lakes by Alice Bowerson Grinnell, and could find no reference to it through Google. - Lost poetry - to which I dedicate this corner of my blog.

In her book was this poem that I thought apropos for today:



Wake Up America


Wake up America, to the crisis of today.
Hold aloft the torch of peace to a world that's lost its way.
How can justice be so blind that cruel wars can reign,
That tyrants terrorize mankind for power and greedy gain?
We who are so strong and free must lend a helping hand
To end destruction o'er the sea, that freedom's cause may stand.

Wake up America; be patriots one and all.
Marching on in unison, we shall never fall.
Search for traitors everywhere they may chance to be;
Keep Old Glory in the air to boast our liberty.
Shut for joy around the world, until the mountains quake;
Be alert America; wake up for freedom's sake.

Wake up America, build armoured ships and planes.
May our youth be clean and strong; may valor never wane.
Aggressors we shall never be within a foreign land,
But if invaders cross the sea we'll fight for Uncle Sam.
Wake up, America, that you may ever stay
The hallowed shrine of liberty the whole world knows today.



Land of the Lakes by Alice Bowerson Grinnell - Exposition Press, New York, N.Y. 1941 -

The last page of the book has a closing letter from Alice dated Dec 6, 1940 -
One year and one day later Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese (7th December 1941).
One year and two days later the U.S. declared war on Japan (8th December 1941).
Italy and Germany then declared war against the U.S (Dec 11, 1941).


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Monday, April 02, 2007

A Poem From Me

Just in case this ends up traveling through the internet forever and ever, Amen! I wanted to get credit for it. - Originally posted on a Ranchoweb Discussion Board (2 Apr 07) -

Concerning Compulsive/Obsessive behavior or Obsessive/Compulsive behavior whichever way you want to look at it...


Compulsive is one thing.

Obsessive is another.

They say to mix them is bad.

One comes from a fling

The other from thinking

Mixing them comes from a gad...




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Tuesday, January 11, 2005

For Seth

This poem was written by a wonderful lady whose faith is apparent in her emails. That doesn't mean we don't have to lift her and her family up in prayer. It would be a good thing if throughout your day and as it comes to your memory to say a quick, "Lord, protect them." for all the service men helping to bring freedom and democracy to this troubled world.

The Weavers like countless other families have a son in Iraq. After Rusty's recent departure Debbie wrote this poem.





LITLE MAN SETH

Now Big Guy you dry those tears

Take my hand and share your fears.

I’m going back--that makes you sad?

Well, come real close, listen to dad:

You know I’d rather stay home with you

But dad’s a soldier with things to do.

I’ll think of you and make some plans

While I work in desert sands;

When my duty is done at last

I’m coming home to you real fast.

So go to school, learn and play

And patiently await my homecoming day.

Love, Dad


Autumn in My Heart!


The following was sent to me from a friend who is a poet as well as a loving mother. Debbie's son Rusty is serving us in Iraq and his daughter Autumn, along with his sons Seth and Austin, needs you to pray for his safety!








Autumn in My Heart


Daddy loves you this I know

For my heart has told me so,

Though through war we part awhile

I carry in my heart a smile,

For when I'm tired, alone or sad

I just remember I'm your dad.

While I'm gone remember this:

Upon your cheek your daddy's kiss,

My whispered tales of things to come

When my duty here is done;

And in your ear my promise true

I will come back home to you.

Love,

Daddy

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