The Muse Whisperer - Poetry: October 18, 2006 Issue [#1328]

Poetry

This issue's editor: stormyrene
[More Newsletters By This Editor]

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. stormyrene

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Music When Soft Voices Die
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory--
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

On a Poet's Lips I Slept
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
from `Prometheus Unbound'

On a poet's lips I slept
Dreaming like a love-adept
In the sound his breathing kept;
Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses,
But feeds on the aerial kisses
Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses.
He will watch from dawn to gloom
The lake-reflected sun illume
The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom,
Nor heed nor see what things they be;
But from these create he can
Forms more real than living man,
Nurslings of immortality!
One of these awakened me,
And I sped to succour thee.

On August 4, 1792 near Horsham in Sussex, England, Sir Timothy and Elizabeth Shelley welcomed their first born son, Percy Bysshe Shelley into the world. Percy was the eldest of seven children and attended school at Sion House Academy before entering Oxford. His first two books of poetry were co-authored with his sister and his father paid for them to be published. In 1811, Oxford expelled him for his atheistic views and for his publication of his Gothic novel, Zastrozzi. To the disappointment of Sir Timothy Percy eloped with sixteen-year old Harriet Westbrook. They married on August 28, 1811. The couple had two children, daughter Ianthe, born in June of 1813 and son Charles born in November of 1814. Percy continued his writing throughout the couples rocky marriage. He wrote "Queen Mab: A Philosophical Poem" in 1813. Percy found himself regretting his impulsiveness in entering the marriage and left before son Charles was born.

Percy found himself in the company of journalist William Godwin, and in doing so he became acquainted with Godwin's sixteen year old daughter, Mary. In July of 1814 Percy fled the country with Mary and her step-sister Claire Clairmont. The three travelled through France, Germany and Switzerland. Both girls' fathers disapproved, and financial hardships soon caught up with Percy and the two sisters.

In 1815 Percy and the girls moved back to London. By January of 1816, Mary gave birth to the couple's first son William. Percy invited first wife Harriet to live with them. At first she did but moved out shortly after. In December of that year after writing a letter to her father and sisters, Harriet drowned herself in the Serpentine River in London. Percy and Mary then wed on December 30, 1816 only three weeks after his first wife's body was found. Percy lost custody of his two children by Harriet do to his life choices. Percy's book Alastor or; The Spirit of Solitude was published in 1816. In 1817 the couple published a book together based on their travels History of Six Weeks Tour.

In 1818 Percy moved his family to Italy. His wife Mary published her most famous novel Frankenstein or; The Modern Prometheus that same year. Their son second son Percy Florence was born in 1819, and sadly their son William died. Percy wrote two more poems "Hymn to Intellectual Beauty" and "Mont Blanc." that year. He was also working on The Cenci and Men of England and his elegy for John Keats “Adonais,” which was published in 1821.

Percy loved sailing and was sailing from Leghorn to Le Spezia, Italy on July 8, 1822. Percy's boat sank in a storm. His body washed ashore shortly after the storm broke. Percy was cremated and his ashes were buried in Rome, Italy. Mary then spent most of her time gathering her husband's work and publishing them in The Complete Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe in 1824.

Time Long Past
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past.

There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last--
That Time long past.

There is regret, almost remorse,
For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's belovèd corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
From Time long past.

To Night
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Swiftly walk o'er the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear,--
Swift be thy flight!

Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand--
Come, long-sought!

When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest.
I sighed for thee.

Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me?--And I replied,
No, not thee!

Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon--
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, belovèd Night--
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!

Thank you all!
stormyrene

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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [13+] is:

ID: 1159602 (Rated: E)
Title: Mother’s Day Gift
Description: Can children REALLY be quiet and let mom sleep late? Read and find out!
By: Bella Bunny

Mother’s Day Gift

Cookies crumbling on the counter
Milk is running down the wall
Serene children in pajamas
Watching TV down the hall.

Fingerprints on every surface
On the mirror, tile and wood
Temporary calm from chaos
Children choosing to be good.

All is quiet with hushed voices
Sibling violence put on hold
Making all the best of choices
Children being “good as gold”.

Making efforts to be quiet
Though the silence may be brief
New behavior learned this morning
Intensity beyond belief.

This false quiet is a pretense
As rehearsing for a play
Such a special gift for Mama
Sleeping late on Mother’s Day!

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These are the rules:

1)You must use the words I give in a poem.

2)They can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem.

3)All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [13+] by November 9, 2006.

4)The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post. (November 15, 2006)

The words are:

Free for all!!! This means you can enter any poem you have written this this month.

Good luck to all
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ID: 1110086 (Rated: 13+)
Title: Abnormalities
Description: A walk through the City of the Dead...
By: W.D. Wilcox© ¿ Φ

ID: 1164791
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

ID: 1164995
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

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ID: 1118653
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

ID: 1163100
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

ID: 1103817
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

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ID: 1167418
Title: Invalid Item
Description: This item number is not valid.
By: Not Available.

ID: 1122834 (Rated: 13+)
Title: nevermore
Description: a darker piece of poetry inspired by edgar allan poe
By: witchhunter34

ID: 1163814 (Rated: E)
Title: Howling Halloween
Description: Created for a Halloween poetry contest.
By: ~* Moon Beam *~

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Submitted To: Poetry
Submitted By: monty31802
Submitted Comment:

Some great picks to read posted here Stormy and I can not remember ever reading anything by Elinor Morton Wylie. Guess I will have to change that.
Thanks for another great newsletter.
Monty

Thank you, I hope you find her poetry as interesting as I did.
stormyrene

Submitted To: Poetry
Submitted By: emilbus322
Submitted Comment:

I like getting this newsletter! I enjoy it when you host it very much These are always eye-opening and learning adventures
John

Thank you John.
stormyrene

Submitted To: Poetry
Submitted By: dillyd32
Submitted Comment:

Wonderful newsletter! I was elated to read more about Elinor Morton Wylie. In my early days on this web site, I added 'Velvet Shoes' to my port as a tribute to her. Elinor was my only muse, and she inspired me to try my hand at poetry and writing. No comparison!

It is a wonerful poem I have added it to my list of fvorites. I am glad you enjoyed the newslleter.
stormyrene

Submitted To: Poetry
Submitted By: klvanat
Submitted Comment:

I truly enjoyed the Editor's picks in the Poetry Newsletter. Elinor Morton Wylie's bio was unexpected and beside the wonderful selections, did help me to 'know' her a little more. Navigating around here is a delight every time!
Happy Writing,
Huios a.k.a. Kari Vanat

I feel the same way abhout navigating the site.
stormyrene

Submitted To: Poetry
Submitted By: soledad_moon
Submitted Comment:

Looks like your center tag has gone wacky. Anyway, is there any method you have for choosing the poets you spotlight in each issue?

There is something I always forget to undo. No there is no method to my madness I look for through newer poetry and find ones that catch my fancy and share them.
stormyrene
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