  Poetry
This week: Gerard Manley Hopkins Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
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Peace
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
When will you ever, Peace, wild wooddove, shy wings shut,
Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs?
When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite
To own my heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but
That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows
Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
O surely, reaving Peace, my Lord should leave in lieu
Some good! And so he does leave Patience exquisite,
That plumes to Peace thereafter. And when Peace here does house
He comes with work to do, he does not come to coo,
He comes to brood and sit.
The Sea And The Skylark
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
On ear and ear two noises too old to end
Trench—right, the tide that ramps against the shore;
With a flood or a fall, low lull-off or all roar,
Frequenting there while moon shall wear and wend.
Left hand, off land, I hear the lark ascend,
His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd score
In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl, and pour
And pelt music, till none 's to spill nor spend.
How these two shame this shallow and frail town!
How ring right out our sordid turbid time,
Being pure! We, life's pride and cared-for crown,
Have lost that cheer and charm of earth's past prime:
Our make and making break, are breaking, down
To man's last dust, drain fast towards man's first slime.
Gerard Manley Hopkins was born on July 28, 1844 in Stratford in Essex, England. He was the eldest of eight children. His father was a successful business man, and moved his family to Hampstead in 1852.Hopkins attended Highgate School where his artistic talents and intelligence stood out. It was there he wrote and won his prize for his poem “The Escorial.”
In 1863 he went to Balliol College, Oxford.While attending Balliol, Hopkins wrote many poems, “The Habit of Perfection” and “Heaven-Haven.” During his studies Hopkins read John Henry Newman’s ‘Apologia pro via sua.’ In the book Newman explained his reasoning for converting to Catholicism. This inspired Hopkins to do the same and in 1866 he converted to Catholicism. After graduating with his first degree Hopkins taught for a while. Then in 1868 became a Jesuit novice at Roehampton, near England, for a couple of years. It is said that Hopkins burnt all his poetry and vowed to write no more unless requested by his superiors.
In December 1875, the Deutschland, a ship carrying seven nuns, was wrecked during a storm. Five of the nuns died including many other passengers. Saddened by this tragedy Hopkins wrote again, “The Wreck of the Deutschland” in 1876. The piece was rejected by the Jesuit journal for being too difficult to read. Hopkins was ordained as a priest in 1877. Over the next few years Hopkins duties would have him teaching and preaching all over London taking him to Oxford, Liverpool, Glasgow, and Stonyhurst. He would write his best-known poems during these travels. “The Windhover” and “Pied Beauty,” followed by “Inversnaid.”
In 1884 Hopkins was appointed Professor of Greek at University College, Dublin. While teaching at the University he became overwhelmed by all the academic and administrative responsibilities he had to manage, which took a toll on his health. With his failing health and his work load Hopkins slipped into a depressed state. In 1885 he writing began to mimic his outlook on life and he wrote, “'Carrion Comfort,” “No Worst, There Is None.” Both containing the feeling of desolation. This feeling continued in his last years of life, and in his last poems he wrote “Harry Ploughman” and “That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire”, and “Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord.”
Gerard Manley Hopkins died June 1889, of typhoid fever. He never saw his poetry published, it was only after his death that his friend his friend, poet Robert Bridges edited and published his work.
To His Watch
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Mortal my mate, bearing my rock-a-heart
Warm beat with cold beat company, shall I
Earlier or you fail at our force, and lie
The ruins of, rifled, once a world of art?
The telling time our task is; time’s some part,
Not all, but we were framed to fail and die—
One spell and well that one. There, ah thereby
Is comfort’s carol of all or woe’s worst smart.
Field-flown, the departed day no morning brings
Saying ‘This was yours’ with her, but new one, worse,
And then that last and shortest…
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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The winner of "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] is:
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"Should this poem make you feel?"
I laugh because there is no one to hear.
I write alone--even as I live
In a world surrounded by people.
Life shows me its bitter teeth
Crooked and blackened over time.
I try to ignore reality,
But teeth marks last a long while.
"Why is feeling important?" I ask.
My words echo in the dark room.
When my echo returns, I feel better.
It's good to hear a voice--even my own.
I draw a self portrait--then stare
At the blank page--I look so tired,
Worn, and old. My face is a blur.
I need to stop running so fast.
My pen runs out of ink;
I cut my finger and continue.
Writing now means more than life;
Perhaps, in writing, I can find something.
Even my blood can't bring it to life.
The words on the page are dead--
Without feeling, without anything.
A tear falls from my eyes.
A sprout shoots from the page.
I am startled by this life sign.
Green, red, and white streaks appear
Then a rainbow of colors assault me.
A kaleidoscope of life explodes
And overwhelms any words I can express.
I set my pen aside
And eat the page, finding life.
Honorable Mentions:
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These are the rules:
1) You must use the words I give in a poem or prose with no limits on length.
2) The words can be in any order and anywhere throughout the poem and can be any form of the word.
3) All entries must be posted in your portfolio and you must post the link in this forum, "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest" [ASR] by May 23, 2014.
4) The winner will get 3000 gift points and the poem will be displayed in this section of the newsletter the next time it is my turn to post (May 28, 2014)
The words are:
crawl, roaming, desert, thirst, cracked, desperation, slither, wings
 Good luck to all
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Poetry: April 30, 2014 Issue [#6297]
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