Sunday soapbox

October 7, 2018

Sunday’s soapbox is yours to use as you will – within the bounds of decency and absence of defamation. You’re welcome to look back or forward, discuss issues of the moment, to pontificate, ponder or point us to something of interest, to educate, elucidate or entertain, amuse, bemuse or simply muse, but not abuse.

Image result for quotes spring

You can cut all the flowers but you can’t stop spring from coming -Pablo Neruda


Who is your poet BFF?

April 15, 2015

Who’s your poet BFF?

Pablo Neruda

Life is passion. At least that is how you and your BFF see things. You’re absorbed with living and, like Neruda, are in touch with all the sensations that life presents. A friendship between you and this Chilean revolutionary would be founded on your mutual passion for justice and freedom and cultivated by sharing your open and artistic perspectives on life and love.

Take a break from writing your political manifesto, put on some sensual jazz, and check out one of your bestie’s most romantic explorations of love.

“If You Forget Me”
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

I like the few of his poems I’ve come across, including this.

I did the quiz again with different answers and got Tennyson and Crossing the Bar.


Poem for a Hard Time

February 15, 2011

Canadian poet Lorna Crozier’s Poem for a Hard Time is this week’s Tuesday Poem.

Among the poems linked in the side bar are:

She Who Is Like The Moon by James K Baxter

In/Let by Jo Thorpe

Big Stupid Grin by Andrew Bell

Ode to Things by Pablo Neruda

Gypsy Girl by Alicia Ponder

Knowing by Helen Lowe

Old People Love  by Susan Landry

Roses by Sue Wootton

Bus Stop by Harvey Malloy


Lines from Larkin and Nabokov

September 8, 2010

This week’s Tuesday’s Poem post is: The Poet as absent-minded neuroscientist: The Whitsun Weddings by Philip Larkin & Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov.

The commentary by Auckland-based novelist, poet and playwright Zireaux,  who chose the excerpts for this week’s post, is illuminating.

As always there are other poems to be found by following the links in the side bar.

Among them:

I was moved by Story Teller Vine, Rega by Melissa Shook.

Helen Lowe’s Outback expressed what we saw on a recent visit to Australia’s Top End.

Ode to Tomatoes by Pablo Neruda (translated by Margaret Sayers Peden) is a mouth watering offering from Belinda Hollyer. You can read it in Spanish here.

Sarah at The Red Room chose another of Neruda’s poems – September 8th (in Spanish here).

My Grandmother’s Love Letters by Hart Crane was Elizabeth Welsh’s choice.

Clare Beynon celebrates Eggs.

Mary McCallum manages to mix and make sense of a breast scan, a mouse trap and an earthquake in Victory.

Harvey McQueen sings  A Song Of Spring.

 Tim Jones walks Down George Street In The Rain.

While on poetry – Beattie’s Book Blog has September Quake by Jeffrey Paparoa Holman.


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