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FancyPoetryParts

A collection of poetry, prose, logophilia and art that strikes a chord, deep or distant, within.

invisibledot:

Just another 19% to go on De Selby’s funding campaign! They’ve also sweetened the rewards: €30+ now gets a signed book, €50+ gets a limited edition postcard of one of the illustrations, and €500+ gets a guided literary tour of Paris! Take a look and please share!
Here is my illustration for the tenth story, “Clay”.

invisibledot:

Just another 19% to go on De Selby’s funding campaign! They’ve also sweetened the rewards: €30+ now gets a signed book, €50+ gets a limited edition postcard of one of the illustrations, and €500+ gets a guided literary tour of Paris! Take a look and please share!

Here is my illustration for the tenth story, “Clay”.

  It is then the Ocean   Looms into sight,A gulf enringed with a burning white,A sea of sapphire, dazzling bright;    And islands,  Peaks of such beauty thatBright danger seems to lie in wait,Dread, disaster, boding fate;And soul and sense are appalled thereat;Though an Ariel music on the breezeThrills the mind with a lorn unease,Cold with all mortal mysteries.    And every thorn,    And weed, and flower,  And every time-worn stoneA challenge cries on the trespasser:  Beware!  You are alone!
Walter de la Mare, English poet (1873 - 1956)

  It is then the Ocean
  Looms into sight,
A gulf enringed with a burning white,
A sea of sapphire, dazzling bright;
    And islands,
  Peaks of such beauty that
Bright danger seems to lie in wait,
Dread, disaster, boding fate;
And soul and sense are appalled thereat;
Though an Ariel music on the breeze
Thrills the mind with a lorn unease,
Cold with all mortal mysteries.
    And every thorn,
    And weed, and flower,
  And every time-worn stone
A challenge cries on the trespasser:
  Beware!  You are alone!

Walter de la Mare, English poet (1873 - 1956)

    When the high road    Forks into a by-road,And that drifts into a lane,And the lane breaks into a bridle path,    A chace forgotten    Still as death,And green with the long night’s rain;Through a forest winding on and on,Moss, and fern, and sun-bleached bone,    Till only a trace remain;
And that dies out in a waste of stoneA bluff of cliff, vast, trackless, wild,Blue with the harebell, undefiled;Where silence enthralls the empty air,Mute with a presence unearthly fair,    And a path is sought      In vain…..
Walter de la Mare, English poet (1873 - 1956)

    When the high road
    Forks into a by-road,
And that drifts into a lane,
And the lane breaks into a bridle path,
    A chace forgotten
    Still as death,
And green with the long night’s rain;
Through a forest winding on and on,
Moss, and fern, and sun-bleached bone,
    Till only a trace remain;

And that dies out in a waste of stone
A bluff of cliff, vast, trackless, wild,
Blue with the harebell, undefiled;
Where silence enthralls the empty air,
Mute with a presence unearthly fair,
    And a path is sought
      In vain…..

Walter de la Mare, English poet (1873 - 1956)

Klok-Klok of bowls on the green
and scent of the warm grass rises
~~ English summer

http://pennilesspoet.tumblr.com/post/91827981952/hi-everyone-so-ive-just-reached-a-follower

pennilesspoet:

Hi everyone! So, I’ve just reached a follower milestone of 200 followers! I never thought I would get even one follower, but here we are today. :) Since I can’t do a give-away or anything, I’ve decided to launch my new project called One Word, One Poem. It’s very simple, actually. Send in one…

1 week ago- 7
dictionandmetaphor:

21! House wins! Lol 
Thank you to the first 21 followers of Diction and Metaphor!
This is the first step to a future I am building, and I hope the next time I share a screenshot, there are quite a few more followers added to the great list that has started! 
Please spread the word about Diction and Metaphor, if you are so inclined! 

DictionandMetaphor has only been up for about two weeks, but it has made me realize that an indie publishing press can be within my grasps! 

I need your help tho! 
Please do not be afraid to submit your art, fiction and/or poetry! I love seeing it and want to publish it on Diction and Metaphor’s WordPress, as well as here, but the WordPress is exclusively for the pieces people have voluntarily submitted. I reblog art and writings on here that I see, and especially when I do not have any submissions. 
The plan is to make anthologies when I amass more submissions! I want to contribute to the art and literary community and help writers and artists get their work in print! I love making things and DictionandMetaphor is soothing my Editor side of me! 

Thank you for the chance and bearing with me as this takes off! 

Best wishes, 
Kelsie

dictionandmetaphor:

21! House wins! Lol
Thank you to the first 21 followers of Diction and Metaphor!
This is the first step to a future I am building, and I hope the next time I share a screenshot, there are quite a few more followers added to the great list that has started!
Please spread the word about Diction and Metaphor, if you are so inclined!

DictionandMetaphor has only been up for about two weeks, but it has made me realize that an indie publishing press can be within my grasps!

I need your help tho!
Please do not be afraid to submit your art, fiction and/or poetry! I love seeing it and want to publish it on Diction and Metaphor’s WordPress, as well as here, but the WordPress is exclusively for the pieces people have voluntarily submitted. I reblog art and writings on here that I see, and especially when I do not have any submissions.
The plan is to make anthologies when I amass more submissions! I want to contribute to the art and literary community and help writers and artists get their work in print! I love making things and DictionandMetaphor is soothing my Editor side of me!

Thank you for the chance and bearing with me as this takes off!

Best wishes,
Kelsie

40ozphilosopher:

-Counting those almosts…
lamentations etched deeply
on the dying summer winds

—Matthew Ambrose

(via 40ozphilosopher)

There’s a hard wind yet and a sad road
Between the walking woman
And her deadly spouse, the iron lover.
My hair has fallen and my man
Has fallen and my fruitful time is over:
There is a hard wind and a sad road.

There’s a jangled verse, a cry
Beating behind that woman’s face.
My eyes are drowned and my man
Is drowned. Who loves a dead man’s grace,
A drowned man’s kisses or a blind man’s eye?
Cries the unsatisfied, the walking woman.

There’s all the angry air, the sea,
Between that woman and her hope:
Once I had a house, a fire
Until my man’s proud faring broke
My house and heart.  So I’ll desire
Lovers of iron or dead men’s constancy,
Cries the still passionate, the walking woman.

Sidney Keyes, English poet (1922 - 1943)

There’s a hard wind yet and a sad road
Between the walking woman
And her deadly spouse, the iron lover.
My hair has fallen and my man
Has fallen and my fruitful time is over:
There is a hard wind and a sad road.

There’s a jangled verse, a cry
Beating behind that woman’s face.
My eyes are drowned and my man
Is drowned. Who loves a dead man’s grace,
A drowned man’s kisses or a blind man’s eye?
Cries the unsatisfied, the walking woman.

There’s all the angry air, the sea,
Between that woman and her hope:
Once I had a house, a fire
Until my man’s proud faring broke
My house and heart. So I’ll desire
Lovers of iron or dead men’s constancy,
Cries the still passionate, the walking woman.

Sidney Keyes, English poet (1922 - 1943)

The lime trees weep blossoms
over the conkers
- unchanging change