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canadachronicles · 18 days

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"Let laureates sing with rapturous swing Of the wonder and glory of work; Let pulpiteers preach and with passion impeach The indolent wretches who shirk. No doubt they are right: in the stress of the fight It's the slackers who go to the wall; So though it's my shame I perversely proclaim It's fine to do nothing at all. It's fine to recline on the flat of one's spine, With never a thought in one's head: It's lovely to le staring up at the sky When others are earning their bread. It's great to feel one with the soil and the sun, Drowned deep in the grasses so tall; Oh it's noble to sweat, pounds and dollars to get, But; it's grand to do nothing at all. So sing to the praise of the fellows who laze Instead of lambasting the soil; The vagabonds gay who lounge by the way, Conscientious objectors to toil. But lest you should think, by this spatter of ink, The Muses still hold me in thrall, I'll round out my rhyme, and (until the next time) Work like hell; doing nothing at all."

--Laziness, Robert William Service

I am still jet-lagged, and I've caught a violent cold, returning from warmer climes; thus I can say, without any shame, I am thoroughly enjoying a little laziness!

#Laziness #Robert William Service #Robert W. Service #Poem #Poet #Poetry #Canadian Poem #Canadian Poet #Canadian Poetry #Bard of the Yukon #Quote #Literary Quote #Literature #Canadian Literature #20th Century Poetry #20th Century Literature #Canada Chronicles

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angelmush · 5 months

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i got a goose tattooed on the inside of my forearm today and it was a flash piece but it's my favorite tattoo already it means everything to me i could sob

#i love geese so much and so deeply i named my dog after them #goose is my black dragon dog and my loyal faithful companion and my entire world #i just love these birds #they are so misunderstood as aggressive and scary when really they just are sensitive to spatial pressure #and they need a wider diameter than humans are often willing to give #but they are so beautiful i love their long graceful necks and how i can recognize their sounds anywhere #and that no matter where i live i see their little v's in the sky #and of course wild geese by mary oliver is one of the first poems i fell in love with #my english teacher deborah read it aloud to us in high school and it made me want to go outside and to stay alive #and when my gf and i first started dating i knew i loved her for lots of reasons but one of them was that she also loved geese #she told me she had a shared folder with her family members titled “geese i've seen” that she would put her goose photos in #so her entire family could witness them with her #i remember when i was sick with anorexia a few weeks before i was hospitalized a v of canadian geese flew over me on my way into work #and these big fluffy snowflakes were falling down and i could hear them calling #and it made my eyes well up #and i hoped they would get somewhere warm enough for winter #whether or not people have respect for them is a wonderful metric for gauging somebody's character #at the grocery store i worked at when i was 18 the only coworker i grew close to had a similar affinity for geese #she had a necklace of one #a little silver glinting goose in flight :'')#personal

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majestativa · 2 months

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Ritually, once a year, our eyes avoid what poetry reveals. Love is always forms of trouble.

— Diana Brebner, The Ishtar Gate: Last and Selected Poems, (2004)

#Canadian #Diana Brebner #The Ishtar Gate: Last and Selected Poems #(2004)#Essence

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sfsolstice · 2 months

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perhaps one day i might find myself amongst the québécois, should my brother follow through with plans to see montreal and if my friend wishes for a weekend or two spent with her;

i might find myself thinking of you then, perhaps just a distant ache or a fond winter memory, walking the cobblestone of the vieux and admiring the flora in the jardin;

how popular is parc du mont-royal? how beautiful is the notre-dame, and how sweet the produce of jean-talon? would we have affaired within the city's sights, in its days and its nights?

i know the thought might come, and i know it will likely pass, but i know— not without the heart heavy with regret; perhaps i might wonder of another life, perhaps i might hope it was true, but perhaps one day i might find myself amongst the québécois, and perhaps i might think of you.

#poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #poets corner #poetscommunity #writers and poets #original poem #poetry #poem #poetry on tumblr #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #sfsolstice #needed my brother's help a bit since he knows french lol #also needed my friend's help since shes canadian and i dont know ANYTHING about canada

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simmyfrobby · 8 months

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I’m doing this the opposite of how we usually do it. “If a lemon kissed a beet” poem. Which players 🎤

#thanks anon this made me smile #hockey poems #nick suzuki #cole caufield #habs #Montreal Canadians

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peachynm · 7 months

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#nicole mae #poet #poetry #poetry magazine #indie magazine #magazine #lit mags #canadian poetry #queer poetry #poets on tumblr #poem #love poem #digital magazine

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 7 months

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me when a magazine has the perfect theme for me to submit my poems to but I waited 2 months to do it & now submissions close tmrw

#the theme is literally language all my poems are about language all I do is talk abt language #rachel why NOW i must do that #boohoo oh nooo I have to submit my work more!! the thing I told myself I would do!!! noooo the horrorrrrrssss #fr tho I am so used to submitting work Once and getting it picked up now #my last like 5 publications have been like that #FINGERS CROSSED FOR THIS TIME!!!!#I have been published in this mag already tho hehe <3 #tbf I have been published in every single major Canadian litmag except for like 3 & one I read at now #CANADIAN PUBLISHING IS SO SMALLLLL

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thoughtportal · 1 year

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#poem #poetry #Apocalypse #League of Canadian Poets #poets and writers #poets #poet

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unwashedace · 7 months

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Quote from Anne Sexton’s poem “For my lover, returning to his wife.”

Illustration by Deirdre Sokolowska

#queer artist #queer art #canadian artist #illustration #artists on tumblr #deirdre sokolowska #asexual artist #artwork #unwashedace #digital art #anne sexton poem #anne sexton #poetry #american poetry

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manwalksintobar · 7 months

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Turning Twenty-Three // Anne Michaels

You turned twenty-two in the rain. We walked in rubber boots along Lowther, the shiny street as albumen under streetlamps.

At midnight, the sky suddenly clear we drove your jazz-filled car through cold, pungent streets to the lake where we collected stones by flashlight. The wind wrapped us in its torsions, we couldn’t hear each other although we shouted, wet with star-swallowing waves.

By morning the stones we’d found were dull with air, but I couldn’t forget the smell of the trees’ intimate darkness the scattered sound of the rain’s distracted hands, husks of buds in green pools on the sidewalks.

To love one person above all others is despair, you said, turning twenty-two. Propaganda of the senses, the narrow-minded heart.

We are magnets, averted by our sameness.

Above the corrugated, elastic lake the darkening sky holds out its arms. A thousand miles away, you’re turning twenty-three

I repeat your name, each time different into sand, into moonlight.

Far off, the lake crumbles at its edges, the sky holds out its arms.

#poetry #Anne Michaels #Canadian poetry #birthday poems #23 #sky #Toronto poems #Toronto #Lowther Avenue #West Toronto #rain #love #love poems

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canadachronicles · 10 days

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"See, the grass is full of stars, Fallen in their brightness; Hearts they have of shining gold, Rays of shining whiteness. Buttercups have honeyed hearts, Bees they love the clover, But I love the daisies' dance All the meadow over. Blow, O blow, you happy winds, Singing summer's praises, Up the field and down the field A-dancing with the daisies."

--Daisy Time, Marjorie Pickthall

It is Daisy Time here, too!

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getcareless · 1 year

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The Temple

I saw a temple up on a hill (there was snow, there was a chill).

I went inside where it was dark (I could swear the air was still).

The wind blew in - upon my will (it carried voices as they spill).

I breathed it all into my heart (into my lungs the laughter trills).

All the voices cheer and harp (I felt you grow from the start)

They knew I loved you hard (they knew my love was sharp).

I’ll go with them, yeah, I’ll go far (they’re with us wherever we are).

JP

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majestativa · 2 months

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Even the worst night is a poet’s dream. [...] Even when falling, Karma’s girls can dance.

— Diana Brebner, The Ishtar Gate: Last and Selected Poems, (2004)

#Canadian #Diana Brebner #The Ishtar Gate: Last and Selected Poems #(2004)#Essence

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thorsenmark · 1 month

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My love comes down from the mountain (Banff National Park) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: My love comes down from the mountain While taking in views along the shores of Vermillion Lakes with a view looking to the southeast to the ridges and peaks of Mount Rundle. This is in Banff National Park. The caption used is from a poem. Love on the Mountain by Thomas Boyd.

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johnsturczcollage · 2 months

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#johnsturcz #transientsighte #poems and poetry #photocollage #windsor ontario #bridgeview 519 #canadian poet #canadian artist #johnsturczcollage #windsor ontario canada #mixed media #collage #mixed media art #digital collage #photography

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xspilltheteapleasex · 2 months

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Life Is In The Souls of Birds

A Poem by xspilltheteapleasex

My Main Masterlist

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

My Poetry & Art Masterlist

A day as ordinary as any other can be full of beautiful and curious little things,

Moments that bring joy and peace like this one can be remembered for a lifetime,

But it only takes a second for things to change and fade away, no matter how hard you cling,

Everything will have its chance at life and its chance to pass at the right time.

Anyone can do anything, and anyone can take away the chance for something,

Maybe the chance at blossoming into a beautiful flower or the chance for dedication to commit,

Taking away a moment of joy and peace leading to destroying the beauty of life like a bombing,

So I think it would be best, yes, very much so,

It would be best if you put that back where you found it.

A little birdie with its black feathers sleek and smooth,

Glistening under the sun with little sparkles every time it turns his head,

The knight in shining armor adorning a vibrant red splotch with meaning of sleuth,

Jumping along the many tree branches of his mighty kingdom bred.

Birdies that twitter and flutter about with a song in their mouths,

All of this can be taking away if you steal their wings and souls,

No care in the world, they didn't ask for this, can you at least put them in the ground,

You shouldn’t be in charge of what jewels your body, for only God is at the controls.

Those many tree branches belong to a fortress of solitude,

A tree who upholds the very breath of every living thing we call life,

Weaving roots throughout the earth that no one can allude,

Whom some call home, a place to escape the fear of strife.

Billions upon billions of fortresses are destroyed each year,

No one gives another thought to saving their much needed lives,

Am I the only one seeing how our situation is this horrific and severe,

Can we not just follow the will our God gave us to abide?

Geese fly overhead of all the forest and under the misty clouds,

Loud as can be to announce their grateful presence,

They never break formation and they never stop making sound,

One day they will leave again, but I know they will once again show their luminescence.

Pillows are what I use to lower my head and have magnificent dreams of love,

Cushioning cotton or memory foam will do just fine for me to close my eyes,

So why do we need the best pillow that leave geese in cold blood,

God made these noble creatures for our kind to take care of with our hearts.

The wondrous lake is where the geese lay the wings and take a rest,

Making ever so little creases in this body of water and leaving behind traces of beautiful down,

Basking in the vigorous fountain of never ending droplets which it has expressed,

Our beautiful lake is my queen with a solid rim atop her head as a glorious crown.

Water is the something that every living thing needs in his temple of a body,

It provides an oasis for creatures and plants alike,

Yet we still feel the need to dump our garbage into the sea and turn it snotty,

Polluting the quality, which makes for a great realization of your throat being hit with a spike.

A rim holds place for little children to rest their little feet and have some fun and play,

Pitter-patter on the rim of rocks holding the foundation for centuries,

Just an excuse needed only for me to gaze upon such beauty of life, whom am I to say,

Rocks can be eroded with time, but etched forever are our wonderful memories.

Smoke and ashes rise above our children heads and strikes fear into their eyes,

Take care of your children and hold them tight as can be,

Your neighbor just started a fire that grows and grows as implied,

It started from his mouth but spread into the size of the northern sea.

My gaze is interrupted by an alarming siren warning of swiftness,

Quick must the siren's owner reach the fearful destination,

Praying with my hand and in my heart, with hope this lifts us,

God, oh please, please God, please help those of your own creation.

Taking the wings and soul of a little birdie is taking a life,

Chopping billions of trees is destroying the earth's fortress,

Starting fires in your mouths and littering them to the ground is the same as a thousand knives,

Can't you just stop for once, leave it, and support us?

Anyone can do anything, and anyone can take away the chance for something,

Maybe the chance at blossoming into a beautiful flower or the chance for dedication to commit,

Taking away a moment of joy and peace leading to destroying the beauty of life like a bombing,

So I think it would be best, yes, very much so,

It would be best if you put that back where you found it.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶

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