Joyeful Friday Find: Eleanor Ross Taylor
Since this is a blog about living a creative life, I love perusing through the internet and newspapers for special stories and people. I love poetry and came across an older woman poet that I had never heard of, Eleanor Ross Taylor. She wrote such an amazing poem I have to share it with you:
Schizotableau
BY ELEANOR ROSS TAYLOR
She’s sitting at my little desk,
drinking decaf.
How’d she get back in?
Where’s her blind man gone?
(I pray he’s gone—
though the desk needs tuning.)
What door was unlocked?
They all seemed bastioned.
I sight through the crack.
That’s my favorite cup,
with the bite out of it.
She’s writing one of my poems.
Just who’s sitting at that desk,
playing me?
Shrubbery, thrashing to get in,
lines all panes,
long windows split in parallels.
My windows set out
on separate expeditions.
They never meet,
no matter how far extended.
From the site of Poetry Foundation, I have the following information:
“Her {Ms. Taylor} poetry has been described as elegiac, lyric and feminine; writer Erica Howsare explains, “The southernness of her background makes her tend to rein in her formidable intellect and biting wit with an uneasy deference to form and convention.”
Again from the Poetry Foundation “Now both a mother and grandmother, Taylor is currently living in Charlottesville, Virginia and has been elected to the Fellowship of Southern Writers in 2009..”
Amazing, still creative after all these years!
What Happened to Poetry?
This weekend I read the intriguing book, “The Great Lover” by Jill Dawson.
Rupert Brooke, the early 20th century British poet was the subject of this fine novel. His life, unfortunately, was short lived, as he died early on in World War 1. What I have been ruminating on since reading this book is, what happened to poetry? Jill Dawson brought back the flavor of the times when poets were national heroes, when people were anxious to read a new book of poetry by a nationally know poet. Rupert Brooke published poems and was nervous about what the public’s reaction would be, because he knew many people would be reading and analyzing them. He became a national british hero, especially after the war and his poem, “The Soldier” became very well known:
‘If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England….’
According to Ms. Dawson school children in England learn this much loved poem . It does seem cheezy to us now, but to revere a poet and wait for his poems to be published, where has that feeling gone? I don’t like to be a cynic, but it seems now the biggest excitement is about poorly done movies, sensational media stories or anti intellectual mega best sellers.
I love poetry and actually ask for books of poetry for gifts, but I know I am in the minority. My recommendation is for more people to check out poetry, be mindful of good literature and read, read, read!!
Read more musings at: Follow Your Passion.
One of a kind joyeful finds, it’s Friday
I love to read poetry, it feels like reading with color added to it, like viewing an abstract painting. Like the look, don’t always know what it means. Poetry goes right to your heart, to your soul and says it with little words.
Poetry takes so much wisdom and elegance to write. I recently found a web site that has beautiful poetry, check it out: Leonie.Wise





Hi I'm Joye!!

