I need to find a suitable poem to read as part of Gloucester Reads Poetry: a program of the Gloucester Lyceum, which is the program arm of the Sawyer Free Library.
It’s going to be held April 28, 7 p.m. Sawyer Free Library but I need to get my submission in by April 4th.
So in the spirit of the GMG community I think I’ll open it up to you guys, my peeps to submit poetry suggestions and the one I like best, I’ll read at the event.
The explanation and the reading of the poem should take a maximum of 4 minutes.
Good Morning Gloucester 
‘I, Maximus of Gloucester, to You’ by Charles Olsen
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I think Jimmy T has already “hoseyed” that! How about ” Tis the Voice of the Lobster” by Lewis Carroll from “Alice In Wonderland”?
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I love how it ends without an ending! Rhymes with growl…
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There once was a Man from………
Well, Maybe not.
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Hows about this one:
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Joey: the one you and your children write.
heck, invite the whole family to join in. write a family poem. and read that!
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Hmmm, I like this idea. Maybe I’ll do a group one with the Bean and Snoop Maddie Mad. It could be like a poetry Jam.
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YES! that would be so incredibly awesome.
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That would be awesome! Poetry is way too personal to pick out for someone else.
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O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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How about The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald?
http://www.gordonlightfoot.com/wreckoftheedmundfitzgerald.shtml
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“COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS”
the ocean flexed for just an instant
and a multitude of waves took form
no two alike
yet each the same
from the primordial womb they all were born
some came in quietly without a word to say
they calmly spent their force
others giggled loudly in utter delight
as they splashed and rushed ashore
sensuous swells brushed in blue silk
their sisters wrapped in rainbows
paid their respects to white capped gales
resplendent in gray
striking an ominous pose
the oceans of life
humankind’s collective mind
each drop a memory
every wave a lifetime
This poem just makes me think of the collective consciousness of the GMG family, and Cape Ann and the sea. It would be a nice one for you to read, if you like it.
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Be Yourself! Do something disgusting! 🙂
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…LOL… Paul F. I love it. I agree…LOL… Oops. Did I say that.
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or….you could read:
“Old Ironsides” by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky;
Beneath it rung the battle shout,
And burst the cannon’s roar; —
the meteor of the ocean air
Shall sweep the clouds no more.
Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood,
Where knelt the vanquised foe,
When winds were hurrying o’er the flood,
And waves were white below,
No more shall feel the victor’s tread,
Or know the conquered knee; —
The harpies* of the shore shall pluck
The eagle of the sea!
Oh, better that her shattered hulk
Should sink beneath the wave;
Her thunders shook the mighty deep,
And there should be her grave:
Nail to the mast her holy flag,
Set every threadbare sail;
And give her to the god of storms,
The lightning and the gale.
* Harpies — In mythology the Harpies were evil monstorers who were believed to llure sailors on the rocks to shipwreck and death.
Taken from “Prose and Poetry,” property of Gloucester Public Schools, Central Grammar, c 1943
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