Archive for the 'Eating Poetry' Category

Fatten your animal for sacrifice, poet,

on May 11th 2018

“Fatten your animal for sacrifice, poet,  but keep your muse slender. —” Καλλίμαχος/Callimachus 310/305–240 BC Scholar at the Library of Alexandria

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Orion Dead [Artemis speaks]

on May 1st 2018

Orion Dead H.D. 1886-1961 [Artemis speaks] The cornel-trees uplift from the furrows, the roots at their bases strike lower through the barley-sprays. So arise and face me. I am poisoned with the rage of song. I once pierced the flesh of the wild-deer, now am I afraid to touch the blue and the gold-veined hyacinths? […]

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Eating Poetry

on Apr 18th 2018

Eating Poetry by Mark Strand   Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.   The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad and she walks with her hands in her dress.   The poems are gone. The light is […]

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The Song of Wandering Aengus

on Apr 5th 2018

The Song of Wandering Aengus William Butler Yeats I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in […]

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Wherever You Woke by Dermot Bolger

on Apr 5th 2018

Wherever You Woke by Dermot Bolger There only ever was one street      One back garden, one bedroom: Wherever you woke you woke beneath      The ceiling where you were born, For the briefest unconscious second      An eyelid’s flutter from home. I found this in a compilation called Soho Square Six […]

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Song of Amergin

on Oct 2nd 2017

It dawned on me I had never translated this most famous passage from Irish mythology, so I set to work.  From Lebor gabála Érenn: The book of the Invasions of Ireland. I worked from the text here.  Audio file Am gáeth i mmuir. ar domni. Am tond trethan i tír. Am fúaim mara. Am dam secht ndírend. […]

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Bardcast

on Sep 25th 2017

So, this happened:  Mine is the penultimate piece.   It was interesting to be recorded.  Like many people, I had a hard time getting used to the sound of myself, but I think I’ve now messed with recordings enough now that I do indeed recognize my own voice at a remove. Everyone involved with this […]

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A Silent Poetry Reading

on Feb 1st 2013

I slack on posting and taking pictures, but oh, how I succeed at reading–and particularly reading and loving poetry.  Lest this tradition fall by the wayside, the most apt poem for Imbolc, this day, February first.  It’s my beloved Mom’s birthday, and we have a light dusting of snow, and I can’t get my mind […]

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Equinox

on Sep 22nd 2012

When Tethera was in full swing, our performances at Celtic festivals tended to include question and answer sessions, because, well, we have an small, interesting and interested group of fans.  A question we got several times was: “What sort of creation myth did the Celts have.”  And the three of us would explain that while […]

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Spenser’s Ireland

on Jul 23rd 2007

I’ve been remiss, obviously, about this poetry thing we do. Blame in on my job–I always do. Here’s something from Marianne Moore. As is probably obvious, Ireland is terribly important to me, and like all things that are terribly important to me, my relationship with the country and its culture and my tiny spot in […]

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