In this category:

Or see the index

All categories

  1. CINEMA, RADIO & TV
  2. DANCE
  3. DICTIONARY OF IDEAS
  4. EXHIBITION – art, art history, photos, paintings, drawings, sculpture, ready-mades, video, performing arts, collages, gallery, etc.
  5. FICTION & NON-FICTION – books, booklovers, lit. history, biography, essays, translations, short stories, columns, literature: celtic, beat, travesty, war, dada & de stijl, drugs, dead poets
  6. FLEURSDUMAL POETRY LIBRARY – classic, modern, experimental & visual & sound poetry, poetry in translation, city poets, poetry archive, pre-raphaelites, editor's choice, etc.
  7. LITERARY NEWS & EVENTS – art & literature news, in memoriam, festivals, city-poets, writers in Residence
  8. MONTAIGNE
  9. MUSEUM OF LOST CONCEPTS – invisible poetry, conceptual writing, spurensicherung
  10. MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY – department of ravens & crows, birds of prey, riding a zebra
  11. MUSEUM OF PUBLIC PROTEST- photos, texts, videos, street poetry, 1968
  12. MUSIC
  13. PRESS & PUBLISHING
  14. REPRESSION OF WRITERS, JOURNALISTS & ARTISTS
  15. STORY ARCHIVE – olv van de veestraat, reading room, tales for fellow citizens
  16. STREET POETRY
  17. THEATRE
  18. TOMBEAU DE LA JEUNESSE – early death: writers, poets & artists who died young
  19. ULTIMATE LIBRARY – danse macabre, ex libris, grimm & co, fairy tales, art of reading, tales of mystery & imagination, sherlock holmes theatre, erotic poetry, ideal women
  20. WAR & PEACE
  21. ·




  1. Subscribe to new material:
    RSS     ATOM

Archive O-P

· Wilfred Owen: On Seeing a Piece of Our Artillery Brought into Action · The Poet Edgar Allan Poe. Alien Angel by Jerome McGann · Mostyn T. Pigott: The hundred best books · Aleksandr Poesjkin: De tijd (vertaling Paul Bezembinder) · Paul van Ostaijen gedicht: Aan Cendrars · Paul van Ostaijen gedicht: Marcel Schwob · Laure (Colette Peignot): Esmeralda · Morgan PARKER: There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé · Gedicht ‘Theater’ van Jef van KEMPEN vertaald door Bernard ODENDAAL · Jessie POPE: The Zeppelin Armada · JESSIE POPE: War Girls · KATHERINE PHILIPS: EPITAPH ON HER SON H.P.

»» there is more...

Wilfred Owen: On Seeing a Piece of Our Artillery Brought into Action

   

On Seeing a Piece of Our Artillery Brought into Action

Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm,
Great gun towering towards Heaven, about to curse;
Sway steep against them, and for years rehearse
Huge imprecations like a blasting charm!
Reach at that Arrogance which needs thy harm,
And beat it down before its sins grow worse;
Spend our resentment, cannon,–yea, disburse
Our gold in shapes of flame, our breaths in storm.

Yet, for men’s sakes whom thy vast malison
Must wither innocent of enmity,
Be not withdrawn, dark arm, thy spoilure done,
Safe to the bosom of our prosperity.
But when thy spell be cast complete and whole,
May God curse thee, and cut thee from our soul!

Wilfred Owen
(1893 – 1918)
On Seeing a Piece of Our Artillery Brought into Action

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive O-P, Owen, Wilfred, WAR & PEACE


The Poet Edgar Allan Poe. Alien Angel by Jerome McGann

The poetry of Edgar Allan Poe has had a rough ride in America, as Emerson’s sneering quip about “The Jingle Man” testifies.

That these poems have never lacked a popular audience has been a persistent annoyance in academic and literary circles; that they attracted the admiration of innovative poetic masters in Europe and especially France—notably Baudelaire, Mallarmé, and Valéry—has been further cause for embarrassment. Jerome McGann offers a bold reassessment of Poe’s achievement, arguing that he belongs with Whitman and Dickinson as a foundational American poet and cultural presence.

Not all American commentators have agreed with Emerson’s dim view of Poe’s verse. For McGann, a notable exception is William Carlos Williams, who said that the American poetic imagination made its first appearance in Poe’s work. The Poet Edgar Allan Poe explains what Williams and European admirers saw in Poe, how they understood his poetics, and why his poetry had such a decisive influence on Modern and Post-Modern art and writing. McGann contends that Poe was the first poet to demonstrate how the creative imagination could escape its inheritance of Romantic attitudes and conventions, and why an escape was desirable. The ethical and political significance of Poe’s work follows from what the poet takes as his great subject: the reader.

The Poet Edgar Allan Poe takes its own readers on a spirited tour through a wide range of Poe’s verse as well as the critical and theoretical writings in which he laid out his arresting ideas about poetry and poetics.

Jerome McGann is University Professor and John Stewart Bryan Professor of English at the University of Virginia.

“McGann succeeds in forcing us to rethink Poe’s poetry… Poe’s sound experiments, especially his strange variations on meter, deserve, as McGann shows by citing numerous rhythmic anomalies, to be taken seriously… In an age of predominantly, and purposely, flat and prosaic ‘free verse,’ mnemonic patterning is perhaps re-emerging as the emblem of poetic power. In this sense, Poe is once again Our Contemporary… In making the case for the close link between the poetry and the aesthetic theory, [McGann] succeeds admirably: Poe’s reputation as poete maudit belies the fact that here was a poet who knew exactly what he was doing.”   — Marjorie Perloff, The Times Literary Supplement

Jerome McGann
The Poet Edgar Allan Poe
Alien Angel
256 pages
2014
Hardcover
Harvard University Press
€23.00
ISBN 9780674416666

literary criticism books
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Book Stories, Archive O-P, Archive O-P, Art & Literature News, Edgar Allan Poe, Poe, Edgar Allan, Poe, Edgar Allan, Tales of Mystery & Imagination


Mostyn T. Pigott: The hundred best books

The hundred best books

First there’s the Bible,
And then the Koran,
Odgers on Libel,
Pope’s Essay on Man,
Confessions of Rousseau,
The Essays of Lamb,
Robinson Crusoe
And Omar Khayyam,
Volumes of Shelley
And venerable Bede,
Machiavelli
And Captain Mayne Reid,
Fox upon Martyrs
And Liddell and Scott,
Stubbs on the Charters,
The works of La Motte,
The Seasons by Thompson,
And Paul de Verlaine,
Theodore Mommsen
And Clemens (Mark Twain),
The Rocks of Hugh Miller,
The Mill on the Floss,
The Poems of Schiller,
The Iliados,
Don Quixote (Cervantes),
La Pucelle by Voltaire,
Inferno (that’s Dante’s),
And Vanity Fair,
Conybeare-Howson,
Brillat-Savarin,
And Baron Munchausen,
Mademoiselle De Maupin,
The Dramas of Marlowe,
The Three Musketeers,
Clarissa Harlowe,
And the Pioneers,
Sterne’s Tristram Shandy,
The Ring and the Book,
And Handy Andy,
and Captain Cook,
The Plato of Jowett,
And Mill’s Pol. Econ.,
The Haunts of Howitt,
The Encheiridion,
Lothair by Disraeli,
And Boccaccio,
The Student’s Paley,
And Westward Ho!
The Pharmacopœia,
Macaulay’s Lays,
Of course The Medea,
And Sheridan’s Plays,
The Odes of Horace,
And Verdant Green,
The Poems of Morris,
The Faery Queen,
The Stones of Venice,
Natural History (White’s),
And then Pendennis,
The Arabian Nights,
Cicero’s Orations,
Plain Tales from the Hills,
The Wealth of Nations,
And Byles on Bills,
As in a Glass Darkly,
Demosthenes’ Crown,
The Treatise of Berkeley,
Tom Hughes’s Tom Brown,
The Mahabharata,
The Humor of Hook,
The Kreutzer Sonata,
And Lalla Rookh,
Great Battles by Creasy,
And Hudibras,
And Midshipman Easy,
And Rasselas,
Shakespear in extenso
And the Æneid,
And Euclid (Colenso),
The Woman Who Did,
Poe’s Tales of Mystery,
Then Rabelais,
Guizot’s French History,
And Men of the Day,
Rienzi, by Lytton,
The Poems of Burns,
The Story of Britain,
The Journey (that’s Sterne’s),
The House of Seven Gables,
Carroll’s Looking-glass,
Æsop his Fables,
And Leaves of Grass,
Departmental Ditties,
The Woman in White,
The Tale of Two Cities,
Ships that Pass in the Night,
Meredith’s Feverel,
Gibbon’s Decline,
Walter Scott’s Peveril,
And—some verses of mine.

Mostyn T. Pigott
(1865-1927)
The hundred best books

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Book Lovers, - Book Stories, Archive O-P, Archive O-P


Aleksandr Poesjkin: De tijd (vertaling Paul Bezembinder)

 

De tijd

De tijd, m’n vriend, de tijd! Het hart verlangt naar rust.
De klok loopt door, daarvan ben ik mij zeer bewust…
Wij waren met z’n twee nog zo veel moois van plan,
Wij wilden léven maar – kijk aan – dit was het dan.
Je vindt op aarde geen geluk, misschien wat lucht,
Al jarenlang beraam ik moe en slaafs mijn vlucht,
Al jarenlang droom ik van een veel grootser lot,
Van verre oorden rijk aan werk en puur genot.

Aleksandr Poesjkin
(1799 – 1837)
Пора, мой друг, пора…
gedicht 1834
vertaling Paul Bezembinder, 2016.

(Meer over Paul Bezembinder is te vinden op zijn website: www.paulbezembinder.nl)
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive O-P, Archive O-P, Poesjkin, Poesjkin, Aleksandr


Paul van Ostaijen gedicht: Aan Cendrars

 

 

  Aan Cendrars

Man              loopt              straat

luide  stem  tussen  huizen

hij               roept

                klinkt  klinker  klaar

Blaise         Blaise      BLAIS –

                                 se

 

               gij zijt het

               Cendrars

 

Paul van Ostaijen
(1896 – 1928)
Aan Cendrars

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *Concrete + Visual Poetry K-O, Archive C-D, Archive O-P, Cendrars, Blaise, Ostaijen, Paul van, Paul van Ostaijen, Paul van Ostaijen


Paul van Ostaijen gedicht: Marcel Schwob

 

Marcel Schwob

Ik wil de wonderlijke wonden
van uw voeten zoenen, ik, de boetende,
en gij die reeds gekruisigd werd.

Ik weet ook gij
werd aan het kruis gekromd,
mijn stille kruistochtkind.

Gij zijt de stem van de Doper,
doch ik ben niet de Tetrarch.
Gij zijt het gans gebeuren.

U tegenover zal ik niet zondigen,
want uwe wonde ken ik,
zonder dat mijn hand hare kilte voelt.

Van uwe lippen wil ik de liefde drinken,
was ook uw lijf nog slechts een vreselijk offer,-
de melaatse kluizenaar in de woestijn.

Mijn handen zijn nog niet doorwond,
de koorden snijden enkel het vlees
van mijn arme armen.

Doch zeg slechts een woord, gekruisigde,
en de lichten in mij zullen zich omzetten
tot de kaarsen van het paradijs.

Paul van Ostaijen
(1896 – 1928)
Gedicht: Marcel Schwob

Marcel Schwob (1867 – 1905),
was a Jewish – French symbolist writer.

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *Concrete + Visual Poetry K-O, Archive O-P, Marcel Schwob, Ostaijen, Paul van, Paul van Ostaijen, Paul van Ostaijen


Laure (Colette Peignot): Esmeralda

 

Esmeralda

Esmeralda
Esmeralda
une voix de femme crie appelle
hop hop
des écuyères
des équilibristes
au moment
dangerereux
un sourd galop
de cheval
une piste
un grand cheval noir…
Esmeralda galope nue sur un cheval fou
Esmeralda et son corps blanc de neige et sa longue large chevelure rousse
qui touche et s’emmêle à la crinière
à la queue
de lourd crin noir
Esmeralda
se couche
se cabre
se renverse
longue chevelure
et crinière
longue chevelure
et queue
plus longue que l’épaisse queue de crin
D’un claquement de fouet
Esmeralda
est debout sur le cheval
rutilante
de nudité
fraîcheur
Cette blancheur
trop blanche de rousse
et ses seins lourds et la corolle très large fendue
dans la blancheur un peu blessée décentrée
d’un si tendre et si fin bouton
Esmeralda
joue
dans une chambre toute capitonnée
Voilée de tissus vert tendre
elle est parfumée
elle sort du bain
elle joue parce que c’est l’heure pour elle de jouer de s’exercer
de plus en plus savamment
aux exercices
dans le petit (réduit)
attenant à sa chambre
Esmeralda est promise au plaisir
née pour le plaisir
sa tendre étoile
sous laquelle elle est née
tendres sont les hommes
Esmeralda saute du cheval
Et ne remonte plus à sa chambre = elle suit le cheval
et rentre à l’écurie
Tendre tendre
Esmeralda
rentre dans son box à côté de
son box en tout point semblable à l’autre
La journée commence
de grands claquements de fouets se font entendre
auxquels se joint le hennissement du cheval
un cri
Esmeralda lève-toi
ta chaîne à la mangeoire
un homme te regarde
assis sur un petit trépied
les genoux tu écartes nue mains sur
la cuisse
l’autre tient le fouet debout
Esmeralda tu seras sage aujourd’hui
– Comme toujours
– Non, pas « comme tous les jours »
folle que tu es
plus que tous les jours

Laure
(Colette Peignot 1903 – 1938)
Esmeralda

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive K-L, Archive O-P, Laure (Colette Peignot)


Morgan PARKER: There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé

The only thing more beautiful than Beyoncé is God, and God is a black woman sipping rosé and drawing a lavender bath, texting her mom, belly-laughing in the therapist’s office, feeling unloved, being on display, daring to survive. Morgan Parker stands at the intersections of vulnerability and performance, of desire and disgust, of tragedy and excellence.

Unrelentingly feminist, tender, ruthless, and sequined, these poems are an altar to the complexities of black American womanhood in an age of non-indictments and déjà vu, and a time of wars over bodies and power. These poems celebrate and mourn. They are a chorus chanting: You’re gonna give us the love we need.

Morgan Parker is the author of Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up At Night (Switchback Books 2015), selected by Eileen Myles for the 2013 Gatewood Prize.

Her work has been featured or is forthcoming in numerous publications, as well as anthologized in Why I Am Not A Painter (Argos Books), The BreakBeat Poets: New American Poetry in the Age of Hip-Hop (Haymarket Books), and Best American Poetry 2016.

Winner of a 2016 Pushcart Prize and a Cave Canem graduate fellow, Morgan lives with her dog, Braeburn, in Brooklyn, New York. She works as an editor for Little A and Day One, co-curates the Poets With Attitude (PWA) reading series with Tommy Pico, and with poet Angel Nafis, she is The Other Black Girl Collective.

A TIME Magazine Best Paperback of 2017
A Paris Review Staff Pick
A Publishers Weekly Pick of the Week
A Buzzfeed “Most Exciting Book of 2017”
A VICE Most Anticipated Book
NPR.org’s “Poetry to Pay Attention To”

“[A] tremendous new collection.” VICE

Morgan Parker
There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé
Tin House Publisher
ISBN 978-1-941040-53-9
paperback, 96p,
2017, $14.95

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: - Book News, Archive O-P, Art & Literature News


Gedicht ‘Theater’ van Jef van KEMPEN vertaald door Bernard ODENDAAL

Vertaling van het gedicht Theater van Jef van Kempen in het Zuid-Afrikaans door Bernard Odendaal.
Eerder gepubliceerd door Carina van der Walt in: Versindaba – ‘n Kollektiewe weblog vir die Afrikaanse digkuns –
http://versindaba.co.za/2016/03/31/carina-van-der-walt-jeroen-bosch-se-skilderye/

 

Theater

Stel je voor: een toneel van dolende nachtvogels
boven een doorweekte woestijn, in een duister

hospitaal voor koortsige landlopers.
Stel je voor: een opera van rondborstige gedrochten,

verwekt in een glazen stolp, amechtig lispelend,
op kromme stelten strompelend, in een vuile

sneeuwjacht van de diepe winter.
Eind goed al goed vonden de trage doden hun draai

en bestegen, tegen de keer, het paard van Troje
en maakten hun dromen waar.

Jef van Kempen
(Uit de bundel ‘Laatste Bedrijf’ 2012)

 

Teater

Stel jou voor: ’n toneel van dolende nagvoëls
bokant ’n deurweekte woestyn, in ’n donker

hospitaal vir koorsige boemelaars.
Stel jou voor: ’n opera van rondborstige gedrogte

verwek onder ’n glasstolp, uitasem lispelend,
op krom stelte strompelend, morsig aan die

jag in die diepwintersneeuw.
Einde goed alles goed kry die trae dooies hul draai

en bestyg, dwarstrekkerig, die perd van Troje
en maak hulle drome waar.

Vertaling Bernard Odendaal (2016)

 

FOTO: v.l.n.r. Martin Beversluis, Desmond Painter, Bernard Odendaal, Carina van der Walt, Annelie David, Bert Bevers en Jef van Kempen (foto Nel van Kempen 2015)

fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive K-L, Archive O-P, Bernard Odendaal, Bevers, Bert, Beversluis, Martin, Carina van der Walt, Jef van Kempen, Kempen, Jef van, Literaire Salon in 't Wevershuisje, TRANSLATION ARCHIVE


Jessie POPE: The Zeppelin Armada

fdm_jessiepope

Jessie Pope
(1868 – 1941)

The Zeppelin Armada

‘To-Day, since Zeppelins are in the air,
And folks glance skywards as they go their ways,
Let us hark back a bit to an affair
That happened in Queen Bess’s sturdy days,
When the Armada, backed by Spanish lust
A fleet that floating palaces resembled
Sailed proudly forth to crush us in the dust,
While all the tremulous in England trembled.

What was the fate of those unwieldy craft ?
Our little frigates made of British oak
Harassed the mighty galleons fore and aft,
Handy to strike and shun the counterstroke.
The Great Invasion ended in defeat.
No more could Philip play the part of mocker,
The rout of the Armada was complete,
And down it went to Davy Jones’s locker.

What frigates did in 1558
May be repeated in the air to-day,
When clumsy Zeppelins may meet their fate
From aeroplanes that sting and dart away.
A well-equipped and handy air patrol
Would circumvent an aerial attack.
If London is to be the Zeppes’ goal,
It’s up to us to see they don’t go back!

Jessie Pope
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *War Poetry Archive, Archive O-P, CLASSIC POETRY, WAR & PEACE


JESSIE POPE: War Girls

fdm_jessiepope

Jessie Pope
(1868 – 1941)

War Girls

‘There’s the girl who clips your ticket for the train,
And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,
There’s the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,
And the girl who calls for orders at your door.
Strong, sensible, and fit,
They’re out to show their grit,
And tackle jobs with energy and knack.
No longer caged and penned up,
They’re going to keep their end up
‘Til the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

There’s the motor girl who drives a heavy van,
There’s the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat,
There’s the girl who calls ‘All fares please!’ like a man,
And the girl who whistles taxi’s up the street.
Beneath each uniform
Beats a heart that’s soft and warm,
Though of canny mother-wit they show no lack;
But a solemn statement this is,
They’ve no time for love and kisses
Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

Jessie Pope
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: *War Poetry Archive, Archive O-P, CLASSIC POETRY, WAR & PEACE


KATHERINE PHILIPS: EPITAPH ON HER SON H.P.

katherinephilips112

Katherine Philips
(1631-1664)

Epitaph On Her Son H. P.
At St. Syth’s Church
Wher Her Body Also Lies Interred

What on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
Seven years childless, marriage past,
A Son, a son is born at last :
So exactly lim’d and fair.
Full of good Spirits, Meen, and Air,
As a long life promised,
Yet, in less than six weeks dead.
Too promising, too great a mind
In so small room to be confin’d :
Therefore, as fit in Heav’n to dwell,
He quickly broke the Prison shell.
So the subtle Alchimist,
Can’t with Hermes Seal resist
The powerful spirit’s subtler flight,
But t’will bid him long good night.
And so the Sun if it arise
Half so glorious as his Eyes,
Like this Infant, takes a shrowd,
Buried in a morning Cloud.

Katherine Philips poetry
fleursdumal.nl magazine

More in: Archive O-P, CLASSIC POETRY


Older Entries »

Thank you for reading FLEURSDUMAL.NL - magazine for art & literature