Remote Holiday Poetry Party December 2024

 

Remote Holiday Poetry Party

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Winter Wonderland for a Speech Tx: https://1drv.ms/v/s!Apd7ZllL1e_uhaZwF56FGFPndc5IZw

https://open.spotify.com/track/06Pfxmp9TtC2H00apclouT?si=f434669a7ccf46f4

 

https://www.themarginalian.org/2023/08/20/spell-against-indifference/

https://www.themarginalian.org/2022/12/16/dallas-lore-sharp-winter/

https://www.themarginalian.org/2018/01/05/thoreau-excusrsions-a-winter-walk/

 

Watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tales - Apple TV+

Watch The Velveteen Rabbit - Apple TV+

 

Dust of Snow

By Robert Frost

The way a crow

Shook down on me

The dust of snow

From a hemlock tree

 

Has given my heart

A change of mood

And saved some part

Of a day I had rued.

 

From <https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44262/dust-of-snow>

 

Kindness

Naomi Shihab Nye

 

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

It is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.

 

From < https://poets.org/poem/kindness

 

 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

 

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

 

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

From <https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42891/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening>

 

 

“The Snow Man”

by Wallace Stevens

“One must have a mind of winter

To regard the frost and the boughs

Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

 

And have been cold a long time

To behold the junipers shagged with ice,

The spruces rough in the distant glitter

 

Of the January sun; and not to think

Of any misery in the sound of the wind,

In the sound of a few leaves,

 

Which is the sound of the land

Full of the same wind

That is blowing in the same bare place

 

For the listener, who listens in the snow,

And, nothing himself, beholds

Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.”

 

From <https://www.readpoetry.com/poems-about-snow-and-the-winter-season/>

 

Snowball

Shell Silverstein