Showing posts with label kilmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kilmer. Show all posts

Friday, August 15, 2008

The Snail Sticks Out


Snail
Originally uploaded by mfcrowl
I’ve been thinking about uploading the photos I took of Dunedin murals for a week or so now, after I discovered another site where there were some displayed. Mark Leggatt has a lot of graphic stuff on his blog, but there’s also a link to a ‘group’ on Flick.com where a bunch of people have got together to display Dunedin murals and street art. I’m not sure where the dividing line between the two is, as some street art is superb (and some rotten) and some murals are superb (and some rotten).
Anyway, I have about twenty-five photos of murals up now, and there’ll be more to follow.
There’s also a rather random photo of a snail. I just happen to like it.

One of the stranger search requests on HitTail this week is 'joyce kilmer in italian'. The person searching didn't get much joy, because Kilmer doesn't seem to have been translated into Italian - at least not as far as the search engine (Alot) was aware. However, a verse from a long poem by Kilmer called Delicatessen came up a lot on the search results. It's not a poem I know, but here's the relevant stanza:
Here is a shop of wonderment.
From every land has come a prize;
Rich spices from the Orient,
And fruit that knew Italian skies...


Friday, December 29, 2006

Joyce Kilmer

My mother had this poem tucked away in her Bible. It's slightly sentimental, but it has a bit of a sting in the tale. And the rhythm is very interesting: almost lends itself to being sung. It doesn't appear to have a title.

Come little daws, hungry little daws,
Do you want some wholesome feeding?
Here's my heart on my sleeve
For your beaks and claws,
All ruddy and warm and beating.
Come birdies come, for the night is young,
And now's the time for feeding,
And the very best songs that are ever sung,
Are sung when the heart is bleeding.


Kilmer (a man, by the way, in spite of his first name) was killed in action in 1918 during the First World War. He was one of the most prolific poets of his generation, but is now best known for the poem, Trees, which was set to music and has been sung for generations. There's a very good bio of his at Wikipedia.