#elinor wylie
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ON MELANCHOLY
Ben McLaughlin Anyone Awake Series / Alida Nugent You Don't Have to Like Me: Essays on Growing Up, Speaking Out, and Finding Feminism / Pablo Picasso The Old Guiatarist / Margaret Atwood You Are Happy / Kate DiCamillo Because of Winn-Dixie / unknown / Elinor Wylie The Spring Flowers Own & The Manifestations of the Voyage / Anna Magill Coming Home to You / Virginia Woolf Jacob's Room
#poetry#web weave#poetry paralells#poem#web weaving#text#quote#writing#words#ben mclaughlin#anyone awake series#alida nugent#you don't have to like me#pablo picasso#the old guitarist#margaret atwood#you are happy#elinor wylie#the spring flowers own & the manifestations of the voyage#anna magill#coming home to you#virginia woolf#jacob's room#on melancholy#on sadness#kate dicamillo#because of winn dixie#spilled ink#spilled poetry#dark academia
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favourite poems of november
jesse patrick ferguson mama
a.e. stallings momentary
nate klug squirrels
fady joudah tell life
joyelle mcsweeney percussion grenade: "dear fi jae 2 (ms. merongrongrong)"
thomas james letters to a stranger: "mummy of a lady named jumtesonekh"
mukoma wa ngugi logotherapy: "i swear i see skulls coming"
kim hyesoon mama's expansion (tr. don mee choi)
nikki giovanni my house: "mothers"
harmony holiday gazelle lost in watts
calvin forbes mama said
marianne chan all heathens: "momotaro in the philippines"
richard speakes mama loves janis joplin
sara teasdale a november night
tyrone williams adventures of pi: "mama's boy"
reynolds price rescue
mary moore easter mama said...
frank stanford you: "faith, dogma, and heresy"
elinor wylie full moon
melissa johnson cancer voodoo: "mama's hair"
noor hindi breaking [news]
kemi alabi a financial planner asks about my goals, or golden shovel with cardi b's "money"
franny choi perihelion: a history of touch (this is one of my favourites)
james k. baxter selected poems: "wild bees"
kevin prufer black woods
evan kennedy the sissies: "(the) abashed"
jacob polley the house that jack built
primus st. john communion: poems 1976-1998: "after that"
frank stanford you: "freedom, revolt, and love"
monika sok bodhisattvas at the beach in november
kofi
#tbr list#tbr#poetry#poetry list#sara teasdale#a november night#elinor wylie#full moon#reynolds price#rescue#monica sok#bodhisattvas at the beach in november#mama said...#mary moore easter#mama said#melissa johnson#cancer voodoo#mama's hair#tyrone williams#adventures of pi#mama's boy#richard speakes#mama loves janis joplin#mama#jesse patrick ferguson#don mee choi#mama's expansion#kim hyesoon#marianne chan#all heathens
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Elinor Wylie, "Let No Charitable Hope," from I Just Hope It's Lethal: Poems of Sadness, Madness, and Joy
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Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol | me and bleoberys in the snow last winter | etymonline.com | collinsdictionary.com | Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet | etymonline.com | Gawain and the Green Knight | Elinor Wylie, Velvet Shoes | Apocalypsis 1:14 | Dylan Thomas, A Child's Christmas In Wales
#web weaving#etymology#middle english#latin#proto indo european#poetry#Shakespeare#dylan thomas#elinor wylie#gawain and the green knight#charles dickens#scripture
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Sink out of being, and go down, go down
Through the steep layers of emerald and jade
With warm thin skin of turquoise overlaid,
Where the slow coral spins a ghostly town
Of tower and minaret and fretted crown,
Give up your breath in sleep's subaqueous shade,
Hold to oblivion; are you afraid
Of cold deep death? Are you afraid to drown?
You have three flashing looks, like fairy wishes;
One burns your eyelids with a lightning-wink
Which turns into a rainbow world, and one
Shows sea-birds brighter than the silver fishes,
And one—the last wild chance before you sink—
A flock of dancing clouds about the sun.
Three Wishes by Elinor Wylie
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Three Wishes by Elinor Wylie. As featured in Black Armour, 1923 edition.
Three Wishes
Sink out of being, and go down, go down
Through the steep layers of emerald and jade
With warm thin skin of turquoise overlaid,
Where the slow coral spins a ghostly town
Of tower and minaret and fretted crown,
Give up your breath in sleep's subaqueous
shade,
Hold to oblivion; are you afraid
Of cold deep death? Are you afraid to drown?
You have three flashing looks, like fairy
wishes;
One burns your eyelids with a lightning-wink
Which turns into a rainbow world, and one
Shows sea-birds brighter than the silver fishes,
And one- the last wild chance before you
sink-
A flock of dancing clouds about the sun.
#poem#poetry#vintage books#antique books#poet#vintage book#antique book#1920s#1923#fear#cold#oblivion#drowning#clouds#rainbow#death#ghosts#wishes#elinor wylie#wylie
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"Let No Charitable Hope" - Elinor Wylie
Now let no charitable hope
Confuse my mind with images
Of eagle and of antelope:
I am by nature none of these.
I was, being human, born alone;
I am, being woman, hard beset;
I live by squeezing from a stone
The little nourishment I get.
In masks outrageous and austere
The years go by in single file;
But none has merited my fear,
And none has quite escaped my smile.
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Let No Charitable Hope
Elinor Wylie
Now let no charitable hope
Confuse my mind with images
Of eagle and of antelope:
I am by nature none of these.
I was, being human, born alone;
I am, being woman, hard beset;
I live by squeezing from a stone
The little nourishment I get.
In masks outrageous and austere
The years go by in single file;
But none has merited my fear,
And none has quite escaped my smile.
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American poet Elinor Wylie
#Elinor Wylie#Wylie#American#America#USA#US#united states#poetry#poet#1885#1928#1920's#1880's#1800's#1900's#New Jersey#NJ#Somerville#NYC#NY#New York#New York City
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Escape \\ Poetry in the Truth Saga
For certain characters in Reckless Truth, poetry is one of the most important forms of communication.
For certain characters in Reckless Truth, poetry is one of the most important forms of communication. From the moment we meet Jackson, day-drinking in a tiny local bar, we’re hit with his habit of speaking in verse. He greets Lydia with an improvised verse, and Lydia finds herself too confused to respond. It’s a deliberate move on his part, giving him the ability to hint that he knows more about…
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#author meta#blog#character building#elinor wylie#mental health#meta#poetry#rambles#rambling#truth saga#writing meta
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‘Velvet Shoes’
by Elinor Wylie
Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow’s milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.
-
#poetry#Elinor Wylie#I didn't want to do a web-weaving (which btw is the coolest possible name)#but know that this poem's spiritual twin is 'Neighbourhood 1 (Tunnels)' by Arcade Fire
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Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow’s milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.
"Velvet Shoes"
Elinor Wylie (1885 – 1928)
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Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood
The laurels are cut down; some other brows
May bear the classic wreath which Fame allows
And find the burden honorable and good.
Have we not passed the laurels as they stood—
Soft in the veil with which Spring endows
The wintry glitter of their woven boughs—
Nor stopped to break the branches while we could?
Ah, love, for other brows they are cut down.
Thornless and scentless are their stems and flowers,
And cold as death their twisted coronal.
Sweeter to us the sharpness of this crown;
Sweeter the wildest roses which are ours;
Sweeter the petals, even when they fall.
Les Lauriers Sont Coupés by Elinor Wylie
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