Harringay, Haringey - So Good they Spelt it Twice!
Looking at Stars for National Poetry Day
Today is National Poetry Day.
Here are some way that we celebrate in Harringay.
-Katherine Gallagher wrote a poem to celebrate a local treasure:
Summer Odyssey (Railway Fields, for DB)
-Harringay was the home of poet Michael Donaghy and his wife, Maddy, who has written about him here. You can hear Michael reading some of his works in the Poetry archive here
-Another Harringay resident is the poet Eva Salzman. Examples of her work can be found here.
-We like to write a bit about poetry here on HOL too. Here are some posts about events, favourite poems and and some attempts by contributors to write a Haiku for Harringay.
-We also post poetry events regularly on HOL. Here's a few we've featured in the past.
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This year's theme is 'Stars' and I'm sure its perfectly okay to choose a part of The Sneetches by Dr Seuss as my poem about stars to share. I often think of this poem when I go to the posher parts of London...can't imagine why.
Now the Star-bellied Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-bellied Sneetches had none upon thars.
The stars weren't so big; they were really quite small.
You would think such a thing wouldn't matter at all.
But because they had stars, all the Star-bellied Sneetches
would brag, "We're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches."
With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they'd snort, "
We'll have nothing to do with the plain-bellied sort."
And whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
they'd hike right on past them without even talking.
When the Star-bellied children went out to play ball,
could the Plain-bellies join in their game? Not at all!
You could only play ball if your bellies had stars,
and the Plain-bellied children had none upon thars.
When the Star-bellied Sneetches had frankfurter roasts,
or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
they never invited the Plain-bellied Sneetches.
Left them out cold in the dark of the beaches.
Kept them away; never let them come near,
and that's how they treated them year after year.
Excerpt The Sneetches by Dr Seuss
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Got any 'Star' themed poems to share? Your own or someone else's...
Tags for Forum Posts: poetry
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Maddy on
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There's this one:
Star-Gazer
Forty-two years ago (to me if to no one else
The number is of some interest) it was a brilliant starry night
And the westward train was empty and had no corridors
So darting from side to side I could catch the unwonted sight
Of those almost intolerably bright
Holes, punched in the sky, which excited me partly because
Of their Latin names and partly because I had read in the textbooks
How very far off they were, it seemed their light
Had left them (some at least) long years before I was.
And this remembering now I mark that what
Light was leaving some of them at least then,
Forty-two years ago, will never arrive
In time for me to catch it, which light when
It does get here may find that there is not
Anyone left alive
To run from side to side in a late night train
Admiring it and adding noughts in vain.
Louis Macneiceand one of Michael's about the moon (if that's not cheating) - quite possibly inspired by the above:
The Present
For the present, there is just one moon,
though every level pond gives back another.
But the bright disc shining in the black lagoon,
perceived by astrophysicist and lover,
is milliseconds old, and even that light's
seven minutes older than its source.
And the light we think we see on moonless nights
Is long extinguished. And, of course,
this very moment, as you read this line,
is literally gone before you know it.
Forget the here-and-now. We have no time
but this device of wantonness and wit.
Make me this present, then, your hand in mine,
and we'll live out our lives in it.
Michael Donaghy
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If I comment will these get bumped up to the top of the front page? Otherwise National Poetry Day will be over.
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Permalink Reply by Kit on
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It's not about a star. He simply is a star. Live tonight at Queen Elizabeth Hall.
I Don't Want to be Nice - John Cooper Clarke
Here he comes now....
The fast fingers, the expert eyes And the same old 'how'd you do' Disgust is just his dumb disguise He wants a word with you
His problems are the end His mouth needs exercise The last thing I need is another friend I don't want to be nice
I don't want to be nice I think it's clever to swear Better seek some sound advice Better look elsewhere
Your face is an obvious case You shouldn't put it about This is neither the time nor place To sort these matters out
What you see is what you get You only live twice A friend in need is a friend in debt I don't want to be nice
No we never met before I'm very happy to say Far from perfect strangers I'd like to keep it that way
I'm not your psychoanalyst I'd rather talk to mice You're so easy to resist I don't want to be nice
I don't want to be nice I think it's clever to swear Better seek some sound advice Better look elsewhere
Your face is an obvious case You shouldn't put it about This is neither the time nor place To sort these matters out
What you see is what you get You only live twice A friend in need is a friend in dept I don't want to be nice
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Permalink Reply by Old-Age-Emporium(OAE) on
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And now if I can just insert my dainty glass slipper before midnight strikes . . . .
Maddy, that's beautiful indeed. Michael encompassed some marvellous poetic 'conceits' in his sonnets or near-sonnets - far more tellingly than any of the old metaphysicals. Like this one or his Machines with Purcell's pavane balanced like a racing bike!
But like Captain Boyle, "I ofen looked up at the sky an' assed myself the question - what is the moon, what is the stars?" before concluding with poor Oscar: "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
Stars and Planets
Trees are cages for them: water holds its breath
To balance them without smudging on its delicate meniscus.
Children watch them playing in their heavenly playground;
Men use them to lug ships across oceans, through firths.
They seem so twinkle-still, but they never cease
Inventing new spaces and huge explosions
And migrating in mathematical tribes over
The steppes of space at their outrageous ease.
It's hard to think that the earth is one -
This poor sad bearer of wars and disasters
Rolls-Roycing round the sun with its load of gangsters,
Attended only by the loveless moon.
Norman MacCaig
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Permalink Reply by Sapphireblue on
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I went to National Poetry day event at RFH on South Bank, THurs. Roger McGough was reading this poem.
PAY-BACK TIME by Roger McGough
O Lord, let me be a burden on my children
For long they've been a burden upon me.
May they fetch and carry, clean and scrub
And do so cheerfully.
Let them take it in turns at putting me up
Nice sunny rooms at the top of the stairs
With a walk-in bath and lift installed
At great expense.....Theirs.
Insurance against the body-blows of time
Isn't that what having children's all about?
To bring them up knowing that they owe you
And can't contract out?
What is money for but to spend on their schooling?
Designer clothes, mindless hobbies, usual stuff.
Then as soon as they're earning, off they go
Well, enough's enough.
It's been a blessing watching them develop
The parental pride we felt as each one grew.
But Lord, let me be a burden on my children
And on my children's children too.
Roger McGough
PS. I am hosting Highgate Poets monthly meeting tonight. All members have been through a submission process.
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