William Carlos Williams: Summer Song

Photo - Life Magazine

As they said in the old day's, "sumer is icumen" and so this little number, courtesy of the Poem-A-Day website, seems most appropriate:

Summer Song

Wanderer moon
smiling a
faintly ironical smile
at this
brilliant, dew-moistened
summer morning,—
a detached
sleepily indifferent
smile, a
wanderer's smile,—
if I should
buy a shirt
your color and
put on a necktie
sky-blue
where would they carry me?

William Carlos Williams

And, of course, if you're over 80 (or saw the movie Rushmore), it's hard not to free associate the Williams title with this little ditty:









summer night--
the moon by the river
just a sliver

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,
Don

William Carlos Williams and Ken Kesey (& Jerry Garcia)

Two birthdays of note today: William Carlos Williams and Ken Kesey. Here's the Doctor:



-----------------------------------------------------------

The Thing
Each time it rings
I think it is for
me but it is
not for me nor for

anyone it merely
rings and we
serve it bitterly
together, they and I.

William Carlos Williams

-----------------------------------------------------------


And, Mr Kesey:






So, if that thing isn't a telephone, oh, whatever might it be?

Back to you, Ken.


Until tomorrow,

Don

A Reminder, a Rejoiner, and Some Razzmatazz: Whitman, Issa, & Williams

You know good old Father Walt can be counted on when the chips are
down and everybody else is throwing around the oblique metaphors.
Put him together with Issa and you've got a couple of good traveling
companions.


To the States

To the States or any one of them, or any city of the States, Resist
----much, obey little,
Once unquestioning obedience, once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth, ever
----afterward resumes its liberty.
Walt Whitman


Hurry into mist
hurry, hurry!
a bird set free
Issa
translated by David Lanoue


This morning while listening to some Charlie Parker I ran across some
solid razzmatazz from William Carlos Williams.  These two poems are
perfect examples of why a great deal of poetry must be heard (many
thanks to PennSound).   Who knew what a spit fire the diminutive
Doctor was?

The Defective Record

Shoot It, Jimmy!

And who can't hear that beautiful Bird trilling "Go, Go, Go ...."?

best,
Don

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