Latest news with #poets
Times
18-05-2025
- Health
- Times
Feeling blue? Daily doses of awe ‘fend off depression and stress'
Poets have long been entranced by awe, that fleeting shiver of wonder you might feel while gazing at an endlessly starry sky or the geometry of a perfect snowflake. A study has now suggested that the emotion has medicinal properties, too, with a daily dose being found to ease depressive symptoms and reduce stress. This did not require trekking to mountaintops or witnessing eclipses. Simply pausing to admire the intricacy of the veins of a leaf or being astonished by the scale of the universe after listening to a science podcast was often enough to spark the desired effect. 'Our data suggest that finding moments of awe in daily life can shift how we view ourselves and our lives overall, and how stressful and meaningful
Times
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
Cutting lines: How lawnmowers found a place in English poetry
There's a certain sound that drifts through British suburbia each summer: the low growl of the lawnmower. For many, it stirs memories of reluctant Saturday chores. For the nation's poets, however, it is the call of something far stranger and richer: a muse. According to a new study, the mundane task of grass-cutting has seeded a distinct literary tradition. Its author, Francesca Gardner of the University of Cambridge, proposes we recognise a new 'micro-genre' of English verse: lawnmower poetry. She suggests that generations of poets have found in lawnmowers devices both comically banal and endlessly suggestive. 'They might seem like strange and humdrum subjects, but they have inspired meditations on the grandest of themes, from conflict and death to parenthood and heartbreak,' she said. Sir
Irish Times
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Structured Melodies
The tip of my pen scatters stories, a tale or two gracing the page, taking feeling from my fingertips, words dance on a blank stage, my joy is found in crafting worlds, then unveiling my own in a bright light, with only ink I can choose a whisper, or dystopian crashes of meteorite, my glee resides in a paragraph, for I find melodies in lines of prose, tugging a heart closer to the realm, of scribbled minds and long agoes, my delight lives in a dozen verses, where love is a mystery I hold dear, a vibrant portrait on an old canvas, sonnets are symphonies to my ear, my elation exists in creating a character, I am a fierce puppeteer yet sometimes fair, letting people wander around my brain, I hope they like steering the wheel in there, my happiness remains in storytelling, in lands of beauty and rainbow hue, when my works do reach a reader, may these structured melodies bring happiness too.
Yahoo
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
25 Heartfelt Mother's Day Poems to Honor the World's Best Mom (Yours, Duh)
Need help finding the perfect Mother's Day message to show your mom just how much you care? One special way to show your appreciation for your mom is with a heartfelt Mother's Day poem, like the 25 below. Some are from famous poets, like Edgar Allan Poe, while others are lesser-known. But no matter which Mother's Day poem from this list speaks to you most, one thing's for sure: Your mom is guaranteed to feel the love. After all, isn't that what poetry is all about?Related: 'Mother' is such a simple word,But to me there's meaning seldom everything I am today,My mother's love showed me the Of all the special joys in life, The big ones and the small, A mother's love and tenderness Is the greatest of them all. You too, my mother, ready my rhymesFor love of unforgotten times, And you may chance to hear once more The little feet along the Who fed me from her gentle breast,And hush'd me in her arms to rest,And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?My Mother. When sleep forsook my open eye, Who was it sung sweet hushaby, And rock'd me that I should not cry? My sat and watched my infant head,When sleeping in my cradle bed,And tears of sweet affection shed?My pain and sickness made me cry,Who gazed upon my heavy eye,And wept for fear that I should die?My dress'd my doll in clothes so gay,And taught me pretty how to minded all I had to say?My taught my infant lips to pray,And love God's holy book and walk in Wisdom's pleasant way?My can I ever cease to beAffectionate and kind to thee,Who was so very kind to me?My no! the thought I cannot bear;And if God please my life to spare,I hope I shall reward thy care,My ran to help me when I fell,And would some pretty story tell,Or kiss the place to make it well?My thou art feeble, old, and gray,My healthy arm shall be thy stay,And I will soothe thy pains away,My when I see thee hang thy head,'Twill be my turn to watch thy tears of sweet affection shed,My could our Father in the skiesLook down with pleased or loving eyes,If ever I could dare despiseMy Mother. You're my mother, I would have no other! Backward, turn backward,O Time, in your flight,Make me a child again just for tonight!Mother, come back from the echoless shore,Take me again to your heart as of yore;Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Backward, flow backward,O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears,—Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—Take them, and give me my childhood again!I have grown weary of dust and decay,—Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;Weary of sowing for others to reap;—Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep!Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!Many a summer the grass has grown green,Blossomed and faded, our faces between:Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,Long I tonight for your presence from the silence so long and so deep;—Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Over my heart, in the days that are flown,No love like mother-love ever has shone;No other worship abides and endures,—Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:None like a mother can charm away painFrom the sick soul and the world-weary soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;—Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,Fall on your shoulders again as of old;Let it drop over my forehead tonight,Shading my faint eyes away from the light;For with its sunny-edged shadows once moreHaply will throng the sweet visions of yore;Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Mother, dear mother, the years have been longSince I last listened your lullaby song:Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seemWomanhood's years have been only a to your heart in a loving embrace,With your light lashes just sweeping my face,Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep! Mommy, I love you For all that you do. I'll kiss you and hug you 'Cause you love me, too. You feed me and need me To teach you to play, So smile 'cause I love you On this Mother's Day. O thou whose care sustained my infant years,And taught my prattling lip each note of love;Whose soothing voice breathed comfort to my fears,And round my brow hope's brightest garland wove; To thee my lay is due, the simple song,Which Nature gave me at life's opening day;To thee these rude, these untaught strains belong,Whose heart indulgent will not spurn my lay. O say, amid this wilderness of life,What bosom would have throbbed like thine for me?Who would have smiled responsive?—who in grief,Would e'er have felt, and, feeling, grieved like thee? Who would have guarded, with a falcon-eye,Each trembling footstep or each sport of fear?Who would have marked my bosom bounding high,And clasped me to her heart, with love's bright tear? Who would have hung around my sleepless couch,And fanned, with anxious hand, my burning brow?Who would have fondly pressed my fevered lip,In all the agony of love and wo? None but a mother—none but one like thee,Whose bloom has faded in the midnight watch;Whose eye, for me, has lost its witchery,Whose form has felt disease's mildew touch. Yes, thou hast lighted me to health and life,By the bright lustre of thy youthful bloom—Yes, thou hast wept so oft o'er every grief,That wo hath traced thy brow with marks of gloom. O then, to thee, this rude and simple song,Which breathes of thankfulness and love for thee,To thee, my mother, shall this lay belong,Whose life is spent in toil and care for me. When God created mothers, All as lovely as can be, He made one extra special, And saved her just for me! Related: The water of her womb, your first body she pulled apart to welcome you to the spirit in you she helped grow with all she heart that she gave you when yours fell are her soft she gave you her eyes to see the best in the carry your mother in your her proud of all she watches you do. If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,The angels, whispering to one another,Can find, among their burning terms of love,None so devotional as that of "Mother,"Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—You who are more than mother unto me,And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed youIn setting my Virginia's spirit mother—my own mother, who died early,Was but the mother of myself; but youAre mother to the one I loved so dearly,And thus are dearer than the mother I knewBy that infinity with which my wifeWas dearer to my soul than its soul-life. Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome Has many sonnets: so here now shall be One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home, To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome; Whose service is my special dignity, And she my loadstar while I go and come. And so because you love me, and because I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honoured name: In you not fourscore years can dim the flame Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws Of time and change and mortal life and death. Your arms were always open when I needed a hug. Your heart understood when I needed a friend. Your gentle eyes were stern when I needed a lesson. Your strength and love has guided me and gave me wings to fly. A mother wraps her love around the heart of her daughter, keeping each beat steady through the rhythm of life, until wings take shape, and it's time for the soul to take flight. A Mother loves right from the holds her baby close to her bond that grows will never love is so strong it will never alter.A Mother gives never ending never feels that she has given you she will always do her working, there's no time to rest.A Mother is there when things go wrong.A hug and a kiss to help us there when we need her wipes our eyes when we shed a on this day shower your Mother with and presents are nice but that is not your Mother a day to have some peace of gentle, be good, be helpful, be Mothers Day. Thank you from the heartFor all you've done for meI bless the Lord for giving meThe best mother there could ever be. She is clothed with strength and dignity;she can laugh at the days to speaks with wisdom,and faithful instruction is on her watches over the affairs of her householdand does not eat the bread of children arise and call her blessed;her husband also, and he praises her: The hand that rocks the cradlealso makes the house a is the prayers of the motherthat keeps the family strong. Mother rises early in the morningand bathes her day in talks to God about her familyand places them in His care. Mother communicates her lovein a thousand different there's a need, she is there,whether it is night or day. Mother seasons life with loveand gives so much of placed in her the best He hadand made her unlike anyone else. When challenges come our wayand when trials block our view,Mother kneels down beside her bedand prays the family through. Mother is God's special is a light shining in the dark,illuminating the path for her familyand pointing them toward God. A picture memory brings to me;I look across the years and seeMyself beside my mother's knee.I feel her gentle hand restrainMy selfish moods, and know againA child's blind sense of wrong and wiser now, a man gray grown,My childhood's needs are better mother's chastening love I own. If I knew as a child what I know now, Mom,I probably wouldn't have made thingsso hard for you.I would have understoodthat you were looking out for my best though it may not have seemed so at the time.I would have known how difficult it is to let go,to stand back and let someone you lovelearn from their mistakes.I would have realizedhow fortunate I was to have a motherwho was always there for me,even after an argument,even after I'd said thingsI shouldn't it's too late for a lot of thingsit's not too late for me to tell youthat I appreciate how loving you are,how giving you've always beenand that even thoughI may not always be good at showing it,I love you very much. Roses are red,Violets are blue,You're the world's best mom,And I deeply love you. You have told meAll the thingsI need to hearBefore I knewI needed to hear themTo be unafraidOf all the thingsI used to fear,Before I knewI shouldn't fear them. Up Next:- -
BBC News
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- BBC News
Poets invited to represent Jersey on world stage at Transpoesie
Islanders are being reminded they have until Monday to apply to take part in an international poetry successful applicant will represent Jersey at Transpoesie 2025 in Brussels on 18 and 19 government said it would help pay for the trip which would involve performing the winning poem around Brussels and said poets needed to submit their entries before 09:00 on Monday 12 May. This year's theme for Transpoesie is Turbulent government said the winning poet would also be invited to a reception and tour of the States Archives of Belgium in would also be invited to Poetik Bazaar on 20 and 21 September where they could sell their material and network with other creative can enter via Creativeisland@
