Prosodia

Winter Branches by Margaret Widdemer

When winter-time grows weary, I lift my eyes on high

And see the black trees standing, stripped clear against the sky;

They stand there very silent, with the cold flushed sky behind,

The little twigs flare beautiful and restful and kind;

Clear-cut and certain they rise, with summer past,

For all that trees can ever learn they know now, at last;

Slim and black and wonderful, with all unrest gone by,

The stripped tree-boughs comfort me, drawn clear against the sky.

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Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!

All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).

All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.

Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!

Beauty and Beauty by Rupert Brooke

When Beauty and Beauty meet

All naked, fair to fair,

The earth is crying-sweet,

And scattering-bright the air,

Eddying, dizzying, closing round,

With soft and drunken laughter;

Veiling all that may befall

After—after—

Where Beauty and Beauty met,

Earth’s still a-tremble there,

And winds are scented yet,

And memory-soft the air,

Bosoming, folding glints of light,

And shreds of shadowy laughter;

Not the tears that fill the years

After—after—

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Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!

All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).

All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.

Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!

2018-01-09 - Dawns by Amy Lowell by Karim El Azhari

The Giver of Stars by Amy Lowell

Hold your soul open for my welcoming.

Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me

With its clear and rippled coolness,

That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest,

Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory.

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me,

That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire,

The life and joy of tongues of flame,

And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,

I may rouse the blear-eyed world,

And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

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Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!

All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).

All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.

Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!

That Money I Ain't Got by Amira Ram Graffar

Once, and ever since,

A wince, quite tense,

At the expense of intense

Scents of incense,

I fled.

With no pretense of affluence,

Returning whence made sense.

Hence, in essence,

This dense verbal fence

Well read.

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Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!

All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).

All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.

Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!

The Penitent by Edna St Vincent Millay

I had a little Sorrow,

Born of a little Sin,

I found a room all damp with gloom

And shut us all within;

And, “Little Sorrow, weep," said I,

“And, Little Sin, pray God to die,

And I upon the floor will lie

And think how bad I’ve been!”

Alas for pious planning—

It mattered not a whit!

As far as gloom went in that room,

The lamp might have been lit!

My Little Sorrow would not weep,

My little Sin would go to sleep—

To save my soul I could not keep

My graceless mind on it!

So up I got in anger,

And took a book I had,

And put a ribbon on my hair

To please a passing lad,

And, “One thing there’s no getting by—

I’ve been a wicked girl," said I;

“But if I can’t be sorry, why,

I might as well be glad!”

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Prosodia is a daily podcast dedicated to historical notes and poems, hosted by Karim El Azhari. Welcome!

All show notes are heavily recycled from old The Writer's Almanac archives. May that podcast rest in peace (it was Karim's favorite).

All poems are public domain or submitted by the author for use on the show.

Intro and outro music by Chillhop Records. They are amazing!