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photo 2018-04-19 18:08
The Complete Stories and Poems - Edgar Allan Poe

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

 


I’m almost finished reading Fahrenheit 451, and while that little tidbit may seem wholly unrelated, bear with me. As many of you know, books are illegal in Bradbury’s story, but there’s a part when Guy reads a poem to his wife and her friends, and one of her friends starts sobbing without knowing why. They hadn’t felt anything real in so long, if ever - everything that was shoved down their throats was fake happiness they thought they needed. But hearing a poem caused her to cry uncontrollably, and Guy began to doubt that books should ever be brought back to light. That maybe happiness was better, even if it was shallow. Guy seems to be learning his own depths at this point, and his hesitation really struck me. I’ve always found the sorrowful or the tragic to be the most breathtaking. Like Poe, for example. There would never be a moment when I thought that sorrow should be hidden from the world. And I’m so glad that works like Poe’s exist. Could you imagine a world without authors like him? Or ANY authors, for that matter? 


If I’m rambling, I apologize! Fahrenheit 451 is just so provoking and relevant - read it, if you haven’t yet! And PS, HBO is making a new flick of it to be released next month

Source: getfictional.com
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review 2018-04-15 16:24
My Old Clock I Wind and Other Poems - William Morris

 

A book of poetry by K. Morris. The poems explore different themes, lamenting the passing years, questioning what is called "progress" among others, but there are some nonsensical funny ones too. 
One poem that I liked:

The Seasons

Leaves swish like water
As I walk through
Them to reach the park. 'Tis true
Autumn is still here.
Yet, I fear winter will give no quarter;
For each season does murder its daughter
Who dies not, but rather sleeps
And creeps
Forth to softly kill
Her father who will
Rise once more.

As it was before
So it will remain. The perpetual cycle
Of the seasons, a vital order does bring
Spring
Follows winter stern
Buds return
And soon,
Come summer, flowers will bloom.

Autumn imperceptibly doth replace
Summer's flushed face.
While the fall's slow decay
Whispers, "Winter is on his way."

And another:

Midnight Rose

No light, garish and red
Only night's dead
hour
And the flower
Whose bloom
Was gone too soon.

The moon
Shone on
The rose picked
And stripped
By the wind that trifles,
Rifles,
And is gone. 

I received this book from the author in exchange for an honest review-- thank you.
 

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text 2018-03-25 17:25
Reading progress update: I've read 65 out of 160 pages.
The Earliest English Poems - Michael Alexander,Various

Waldere: only fragments remain in Anglo-Saxon but the story is known from sources in other languages.

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text 2018-03-18 14:29
Reading progress update: I've read 75 out of 160 pages.
Selected Poems: Carol Ann Duffy - Carol Ann Duffy

Much about school experiences and immigrant experience.

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text 2018-03-18 09:24
Reading progress update: I've read 65 out of 160 pages.
Selected Poems: Carol Ann Duffy - Carol Ann Duffy

A lot of the examples I like most are mildly comedic.

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