Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!
Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –
In thee!
By Emily Dickinson
Lake Winnipesaukee – New Hampshire
It has become a tradition that each winter I post this poem by Robert Frost. The poem was written nearly 100 years ago in 1922 and published a year later in his Pulitzer-Prize winning “New Hampshire” volume of poetry.
As with past years, I’m including a photo taken of me while walking back to my parent’s house at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire during a snow storm. You’ll note the street hadn’t even been plowed and it felt like we were the only ones around. The photo (much like Frost’s poem) remains a favorite.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
I really enjoy poetry even though a lot of times I don’t always appreciate or understand what I’m reading. Last year Matt from boy culture blog referenced this tumblr site which includes the work from the handsome guy shown above. Apologies, but I don’t know his name. However, a few months ago I started following him and placed his website on my blogroll in the right margin. –>
Note that both his poetry and many of the images he has on his tumblr site are not safe for work so be careful who you share this with and where you are if you choose to visit his site. Below is a work in progress that he shared earlier this week which I really like. I’m curious to read the finished work. 
Source: Decodollop blog
Each October I post this poem on my blog. It is one of my favorite poems of all time and is by the famous 20th century New England poet, Robert Frost, and is entitled, Nothing gold can stay.
It is obvious that Frost was inspired by the fall foliage in New England when he wrote this poem back in 1923.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Following yesterday’s somber reflections, I thought I’d share And Still I Rise from Maya Angelou. While I understand the poem has nothing to do with the tragedy of September 11th I find it inspiring and full of hope.
I love poetry and The Closet Professor is a southern blogger who now resides in Vermont who regularly shares poems like the one below.
I had never heard of A.E. Housman but according to his Wikipedia page, he was a celebrated poet (and much to my surprise) apparently fell in love with a long time friend / roommate but unfortunately the feelings were never reciprocated as Moses Jackson was heterosexual. Makes you wonder if Housman had Jackson in mind when he wrote this brief but beautiful poem.
If you like what you read, check out The Closet Professor blog, but beware it is not safe to read while at work.
Donovan Livingston, a master’s candidate at Harvard University, was selected to speak at the school’s convocation this past Wednesday. After he performed his poem titled “Lift Off,” Donovan Livingston’s speech went viral. It is one of the most inspiring poems I’ve ever heard and wanted to share with you.
“Our stories are the ladders that make it easier to touch the stars…The sky is not the limit it is only the beginning.”
I thought it appropriate to share a poem by Frost, that pays tribute to this season so I’m re-posting, Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening.
The photo is of me and that is my parent’s house at Lake Winnipesaukee in the background. Sergio snapped the photograph when we were returning home after a long walk. You’ll note the streets hadn’t even been plowed and it felt like we were the only ones around. The photo remains one of my favorites.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Poetry is my favorite form of prose and when done right, it speaks to me on an emotional level that I’ve yet to experience in any other form. Music is a close second to poetry and they share a lot of similarities in that much of it I do not care for or understand, but when I find a song or poem I like – it resonates.
Last year I posted Steven Boyle’s poem, I Hit Send or Modern Meltdown. Not knowing what to expect, his poem took me completely by surprise. Boyle’s reading below is a sequel of sorts to this poem. The reading of, Message Sent, or I’m Nervous, was recorded about one year ago at his high school, which has significance, considering the content and message shared. If you’ve not heard his poem, I Hit Send or Modern Meltdown, listen to that first.
Each October I post this poem on my blog. It is by the famous 20th century New England poet, Robert Frost, and is entitled, Nothing gold can stay.
It is obvious that Frost was inspired by the fall foliage in New England when he wrote this poem back in 1923, but this year I decided to play on the the message of the poem with my image selection.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
In the Summer was written by a Syrian named Nizar Qabbani. He was a poet and a diplomat who lived from 1923 – 1998. I love this poem. It has a slightly melancholic message that makes it all the more romantic, which is pretty impressive considering the entire poem is less than 40 words.
I come from a town where the people look brown, talk black and act white…
Watch this poetry slam-winning performance from Ronak Patani, joint winner of the 2013 Roundhouse Poetry Slam. In light of the xenophobic language vilely pedaled by Republican Presidential candidates, this poem recited by Ronak Patani is both timely and touching. Take a moment to listen to his silver tongued prose.
While trolling perusing the Internet I stumbled across a post on boy culture which led me to OMG blog about a poem Zac Efron’s younger brother, Dylan, wrote when he was a kid. I think anyone who has a close relationship with their brother could probably relate to this cute poem Dylan wrote.
Click on the image below to enlarge if you are having difficulty reading it. 
Yesterday Boston set a record for the most total snowfall in a 7-day period. While it was mesmerizing to watch, snowfall isn’t really meant for city life. It makes getting around a hassle and it loses its beauty quickly. However, it did make me think about one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets, Robert Frost.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Boston Esplanade, October 2014
One of my favorite poems is by Robert Frost. Each autumn I post his poem, Nothing gold can stay. It is obvious that Frost was inspired by the fall foliage in New England when he wrote this poem back in 1923. I hope you enjoy the poem as much as I do.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
BosGuy 