Introduction post

[luzula]

Hi! I'm luzula, and jjhunter found a post I'd made in my journal about reading poetry out loud and asked if I wanted to post about it here during this week. So here I am. : )

I am--kind of a random poetry reader? I mean, I don't actively hunt for new poetry the way I hunt for new fiction or new music. But sometimes I'll stumble over poetry that really moves me and then I'll track down more poetry by that author. Stuff I have found this way and which I love include C. D Wright, Ursula K. Le Guin's translation of the Tao Te Ching, and the Swedish-Finnish poet Eva-Stina Byggmästar (I am Swedish myself). I used to write poetry when I was younger, but it was just for my own private purposes, kind of like a diary. Nowadays my creative writing energy is channeled into writing fan fiction instead.

I also do a good deal of amateur audiobook recording, mostly podfic, but I also record at Librivox, which is an awesome volunteer site dedicated to recording public domain books and other writings (including poetry) and releasing them back into the public domain.

Here is my plan for this week:

- a post about reading poetry aloud and why it appeals to me. I'll also share one of my Librivox recordings.
- a post about setting poetry to music, which is something I've done almost since I was young enough to read. I'll share some recordings here, too.
- a post about another person's recording of a poem that changed how I experienced the poem.

I'll keep to public domain poems, so as not to break the guidelines on the comm profile.

Right, I'll end with a bite-sized poem that I've recorded. (Rather bleak, I know. It, um, inspired me to write a story from the POV of someone turning into a zombie, which I bet is not what Walter de la Mare was thinking about. *facepalm*):

November, by Walter de la Mare

There is wind where the rose was, 
Cold rain where sweet grass was, 
And clouds like sheep 
Stream o'er the steep 
Grey skies where the lark was. 

Nought warm where your hand was, 
Nought gold where your hair was, 
But phantom, forlorn, 
Beneath the thorn, 
Your ghost where your face was. 

Cold wind where your voice was, 
Tears, tears where my heart was, 
And ever with me, 
Child, ever with me, 
Silence where hope was.

Comments

Re: Thoughts

[jjhunter]

(Well, okay, I have been known to walk around outside with my nose in a book, but it's certainly not ideal. *g*)

I have been known to go bumping into people and apologizing to trees while walking & reading at the same time. I do not recommend attempting to walk, read, cross the street, and drink hot tea at the same time, however -- that's how I accidentally broke the spine of my nice copy of Crime & Punishment (and luckily not my neck).