In 1940, poet Wallace Stevens made a trip to Key West. Robert Frost was also at the Casa Marina Hotel there and the two men argued, including the following comments:
Stevens: Your poems are too academic.
Frost: Your poems are too executive.
Stevens: The trouble with you Robert, is that you write about subjects.
Frost: The trouble with you, Wallace, is that you write about bric-a-brac.
So... just yesterday I was driven up The Royal Deeside to near Balmoral Scotland. It’s been a little bit more than a year since Queen Elizabeth II past away there. What more lovely a valley to breath one’s last.
The small leaves from Silver Birch and Aspen from time to time fluttered from tree, through air, to commence the covering of the ground. The sky was blue in part; a perfect Autumn Day.
Wow, talk about timing... I just minutes ago posted a tale that plays with the idea of misreading Frost's Road Less Traveled. The details on Frost are in the Afterword at the end of the story: https://www.mostlymyth.com/p/the-road-miss-took
One of my favorite poets as a child. Such a gentle soul.
Who didn’t choose to recite “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” when recital was a requirement in class?
One of poets who woke me up. Told me to look around and not waste a moment.
wonderful, wistful. thanks.
In 1940, poet Wallace Stevens made a trip to Key West. Robert Frost was also at the Casa Marina Hotel there and the two men argued, including the following comments:
Stevens: Your poems are too academic.
Frost: Your poems are too executive.
Stevens: The trouble with you Robert, is that you write about subjects.
Frost: The trouble with you, Wallace, is that you write about bric-a-brac.
Wanting to be a cicada on that hotel wall.
Haha interesting variation on the “fly” theme.
"For the grapes' sake along the wall." Wine country kids know of this all too well, Mr Frost, for grape's sake!
This is a new poem to me. It captures some essence of my favorite time of the year.
So... just yesterday I was driven up The Royal Deeside to near Balmoral Scotland. It’s been a little bit more than a year since Queen Elizabeth II past away there. What more lovely a valley to breath one’s last.
The small leaves from Silver Birch and Aspen from time to time fluttered from tree, through air, to commence the covering of the ground. The sky was blue in part; a perfect Autumn Day.
Wow, talk about timing... I just minutes ago posted a tale that plays with the idea of misreading Frost's Road Less Traveled. The details on Frost are in the Afterword at the end of the story: https://www.mostlymyth.com/p/the-road-miss-took
I felt this poem.
The Song of the Raven
The crow hovers over your head
He watches your black hair on the frozen ground
The raven had read the short story of Guy De Maupassant
That or its congeners delight in the brain
Of an old Norman man
Left for dead in the cold
It’s a cold October
Where a thin layer of snow has invaded
The raven thinks and says
that it would be dangerous to attack you
The man with black hair
That luck is not on his side
That winter will come soon
That he will have another chance
That the slaughter will be there
That man will always be there
Yes. We’re sparked by the best I believe.
🖤🥀
Full of autumnal flavours and colours!
If not for Frost on the verse of fall leaves
We, the People, just trying to live each day.
would miss those truck Fulls.
Pumpkins on the All Hallows Eve prowl.