Deadheads

  

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       D                     D                D                  D                 D

       I                       I                  I                    I                  I

       A                     A                A                   A                 A

       S                      S                 S                    S                  S

  EMILY          Baudelaire     ELIOT      (cummings)      POE

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Neruda questions

Paz professes

Rilke imagines

HD colors

Stein figured

Shelley ran

Wordsworth worked

Thoreau thought

Emerson opined

Whitman boasts

Frost argued

Longfellow leisured

Blake preached

Byron proposed

Shelley ran

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O’Hara: Played

Cage: instrument

Ginsberg yowled ♪♪♪

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William Williams Pictured Pictures

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Millay maybe musing

                    Dante day dreamt

Shakespeare-Oh Deare!

Anonymous says the Truth

You & I=We Listen

Image By Julie Geiger [CC0 or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Out Stealing Poetry, Be Back Red-handed

“Lowell and Behold! What do have we here?!-Move it a Longfellow!
Hayden-what in the Dickinson is going on here?"
                                                                         “I'm almost Donne. I'm causing no Millay, so there's little need to act so Wilde. I simply must be Thoreau in solving this riddle. Let me Goethe and figure out what are these Wordsworth-"

“I'll give you a Pound to quit right now!"
                                                                         “Keats your panties from bunchin'-Imma cummings Imma cummings-wouldja just be a bit more Patient?"

“Use your Whitman! I'm getting Frost-bit in here with these Dead Poets."
                                                                         “I feel a chill too but you Dante have to be so pushy-could you be Neruda 'bout it!"

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Skipping through beads asunder.
Towers fall like the ominous night.
Fearing the chronic angers of lonely offices.
But Faith remains fine then too.
One saucy pedantic wretch coming up,
with or without, since my candle burns at both ends.
And all men kill the things they love most.
But Men Say They Know Many Things.
Listen to the cricket, crisp with delight,
perched with the free lovely little flower.
Cocorico-There is no high road to the Muses.
No flowery tale sweeter than rhyme,
in time(s) of daffodils (forgetting), lilacs (proclaiming)
and roses (to amaze thee)
in the leaves of grass, to sing any body electric
down two roads diverged in yellow
for the straightforward path had been lost-where was I?
Writing the saddest lines that were never mine...

*The poetry lines following the asterisks proceed with a line(s) from each of the famous poets mentioned in the dialogue with a corresponding line of their poetry in the sequential order that they are named.  (excluding T.S. Eliot, who actually used Cocorico in  “The Wasteland" and is not named explicitly).


Image By Uusi Suomi, V.A. Koskenniemi circa 1945 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.