  Poetry
This week: Dorothy Parker Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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A Dream Lies Dead
by Dorothy Parker
A dream lies dead here. May you softly go
Before this place, and turn away your eyes,
Nor seek to know the look of that which dies
Importuning Life for life. Walk not in woe,
But, for a little, let your step be slow.
And, of your mercy, be not sweetly wise
With words of hope and Spring and tenderer skies.
A dream lies dead; and this all mourners know:
Whenever one drifted petal leaves the tree-
Though white of bloom as it had been before
And proudly waitful of fecundity-
One little loveliness can be no more;
And so must Beauty bow her imperfect head
Because a dream has joined the wistful dead!
Mortal Enemy
by Dorothy Parker
Let another cross his way-
She's the one will do the weeping!
Little need I fear he'll stray
Since I have his heart in keeping-
Let another hail him dear-
Little chance that he'll forget me!
Only need I curse and fear
Her he loved before he met me.
Dorothy Parker Rothschild was born on August 22, 1893, to father Jacob and mother Eliza Rothschild, in New Jersey. Parker's mother, Eliza, passed away when she was only four years old. When Parker was seven years old her father remarried, Eleanor Francis. Parker despised her new stepmother and was angry at her father for remarrying. Parker went to Catholic school in the upper West Side. At the age of nine Parker's stepmother passed away. Her childhood was a sad one faced with death and depression. Parker was finished with her education by the age of 13. In 1912 Parker's brother Henry and his wife Lissie, were aboard the Titanic when it sank, they both perished that night. Her father, Jacob, passed away that very next year.
Parker battled depression her whole life, she often turned to drinking to help cope. Through all her personal hardships, she had a very successful career. By the age of 23 she became part of the editorial staff for Vogue. In 1917 she started working for Vanity Fair, the same magazine that published her first poem "Any Porch," in 1914. Later that year she met Edwin Pond Parker, the two married but then divorced in less than a year. Parker was said to marry to escape her Jewish last name. During this time she was writing theatre criticism. She met with two others on a daily bases for lunch and the group became the founding members of the Algonquin Round Table. Parker's reputation as being very witty and outspoken. Eventually it and her bluntness led to her being let go from her position at Vanity Fair.
Parker had many views about women being individuals without relying on their male partners for support. Her nontraditional ideas left her writings filled with sexism and how life in America was for an American woman. She was called a "sell out" by several critics because her poetry seemed to be written on very narrow topics. Her views to move for independence from a stereotypical women's role made her popular with many readers. She wrote over 300 poems over 15 years. She published her first volume of poetry "Enough Rope" in 1926. Parker then published two more volumes of verse, "Sunset Gun" in 1928 followed by "Death and Taxes" in 1931. She also published two books with a couple short stories "Laments for the Living" in 1930 and "After Such Pleasures," in 1933.
In 1934 Parker married Allan Campbell, with whom she formed a screen writing team for Paramount Pictures. The couple stayed together 16 years before going their separated. The two remarried in 1950 and stayed together until his death in 1967. In 1936, she wrote the lyrics for the song "I Wished on the Moon," with the music done by Ralph Rainger. In 1937 she wrote a script "A Star is Born," with cowriters, Carson and Campbell. It was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Writing/Screenplay. She received an Oscar nomination, with Frank Cavett, for "Smash-Up, the Story of a Woman" in 1947.
Parker's writings became a part of American history and her work was a good example of American Jeremiad. It helped changed the beliefs of many of its readers. She showed a realistic portrayal of those who had a lack of education do to social class and sex. She still stands out to this day in our history as a woman and a writer for her witty and blunt writings. Parker's work seemed to really take off in the 1950's as women left their homes and became more and more involved in the world around them.
Dorothy Parker died from a heart attack on June 7, 1967, at the age of 73.
Autumn Valentine
by Dorothy Parker
In May my heart was breaking-
Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
And sore it split in sleep.
And when it came November,
I sought my heart, and sighed,
"Poor thing, do you remember?"
"What heart was that?" it cried.
For A Lady Who Must Write Verse
by Dorothy Parker
Unto seventy years and seven,
Hide your double birthright well-
You, that are the brat of Heaven
And the pampered heir to Hell.
Let your rhymes be tinsel treasures,
Strung and seen and thrown aside.
Drill your apt and docile measures
Sternly as you drill your pride.
Show your quick, alarming skill in
Tidy mockeries of art;
Never, never dip your quill in
Ink that rushes from your heart.
When your pain must come to paper,
See it dust, before the day;
Let your night-light curl and caper,
Let it lick the words away.
Never print, poor child, a lay on
Love and tears and anguishing,
Lest a cooled, benignant Phaon
Murmur, "Silly little thing!"
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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Pulse drumming and body trembling,
the heroine lay waxen hands
on the failing flame of her heart.
Drops of crimson wept between her
fingers. With last breath she murmured
her parting wishes to the night.
"Let the ashes of my lover
wed me in my burial bed."
I saw a distance flash of light,
I heard a drumming in the night,
A throbbing echoed by my heart,
That gave my trembling mind a start.
I felt a crimson flame spark bright,
I saw a distance flash of light,
Before me stood a hero bold,
Warming passions I thought were cold.
I could not speak a single word,
No whispered murmur could be heard,
I saw a distance flash of light,
My heart stopped beating out of fright.
I saw my dreams to ashes turn,
And I could feel my stomach churn,
Was this really love at first sight?
I saw a distance flash of light.
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Poetry: November 22, 2011 Issue [#4730]
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