May 27, 2010

Clenched Soul

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

--Description: 20th C, Neruda P., Love--

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues.


Pablo Neruda

--Did You Know: (July 12, 1904 – September 23, 1973) Neruda was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean writer and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. Neruda assumed his pen name as a teenager, partly because it was in vogue, partly to hide his poetry from his father, a rigid man who wanted his son to have a "practical" occupation. Neruda's pen name was derived from Czech writer and poet Jan Neruda; Pablo is thought to be from Paul Verlaine. With his works translated into many languages, Pablo Neruda is considered one of the greatest and most influential poets of the 20th century. Neruda was accomplished in a variety of styles ranging from erotically charged love poems like his collection Twenty Poems of Love and a Song of Despair, surrealist poems, historical epics, and overtly political manifestos. In 1971 Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature, a controversial award because of his political activism. Colombian novelist Gabriel García Márquez once called him "the greatest poet of the 20th century in any language. Read more at: Pablo Neruda

--Poetry Terminology: Cavalier poets-
Group of poets including Robert Herrick, Thomas Carew, Sir John Suckling and Richard Lovelace who were all supporters of Charles I. Although not a formal group they were all influenced by Ben Jonson and wrote highly crafted, witty lyrics in praise of wine, women and song. See also Tribe of Ben.

--Word of the Day: sycophant \SIK-uh-fuhnt\, noun:
A person who attempts to win favor by flattering people of wealth or influence; a parasite; a toady.
Example:
The praise Oxford received as a poet may simply have issued from the mouths of sycophants hungry for patronage.
-Howard Chua-Eoan and Helen Gibson, "The Bard's Beard?", Time, February 15, 1999

--Quote of the Day: Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul.
-John Muir

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com


Enjoy these other unique locations:

Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 25, 2010

Weekly Poetry News: 5/25/10

Bookmark and Share


Pin It
Weekly Poetry News

See what's going on the world of poets and poetry. Discover new events, literature, history and more. Check in often to saturate yourself with thoughts and words of poets and authors from around the world.



Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 24, 2010

Rebecca Who Slammed Doors For Fun And Perished Miserably

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 20th C, Belloc H., Childhood, Children, Humor--


A trick that everyone abhors
In little girls is slamming doors.
A wealthy banker's little daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this furious sport.

She would deliberately go
And slam the door like billy-o!
To make her uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart,
But only rather rude and wild;
She was an aggravating child...

It happened that a marble bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the door this little lamb
Had carefully prepared to slam,
And down it came! It knocked her flat!
It laid her out! She looked like that.

Her funeral sermon (which was long
And followed by a sacred song)
Mentioned her virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her vices too,
And showed the deadful end of one
Who goes and slams the door for fun.

The children who were brought to hear
The awful tale from far and near
Were much impressed, and inly swore
They never more would slam the door,
-- As often they had done before.

Hilaire Belloc

--Did You Know: (27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953) Belloc was an Anglo-French writer and historian who became a naturalised British subject in 1902. He was one of the most prolific writers in England during the early twentieth century. He is most notable for his Roman Catholic faith, which had an impact on most of his writing. Belloc was born in La Celle-Saint-Cloud, France (next to Versailles and near Paris) to a French father and English mother, and grew up in England. Much of his boyhood was spent in Slindon, West Sussex, for which he often felt homesick in later life. His mother Elizabeth Rayner Parkes (1829–1925) was also a writer, and a great-granddaughter of the English chemist Joseph Priestley. In 1867 she married attorney Louis Belloc, son of the French painter Jean-Hilaire Belloc. In 1872, five years after they wed, Louis died, but not before being wiped out financially in a stock market crash. The young widow then brought her son Hilaire, along with his sister, Marie, back to England where he remained, except for his voluntary enlistment as a young man in the French artillery. Read more at: Hilaire Beloc

--Word of the Day: suspire \suh-SPAHY-uhr\, verb:
To utter with long, sighing breaths.
Example:
The beleaguered alligator will rise on his stubby legs, distend his body, open wide his cavernous jaws, suspire what is supposed to be a dreadful hiss but sounds more like a tired sigh, and then ferociously clash his jaws together.
-Archibald Rutledge, Monsters of the Swamp

--Quote of the Day:
Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky.
~Fran Lebowitz

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 20, 2010

Petals

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 20th C, Lowell A., Life, Nature-- 

 
Life is a stream
On which we strew
Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
The end lost in dream,
They float past our view,
We only watch their glad, early start.
Freighted with hope,
Crimsoned with joy,
We scatter the leaves of our opening rose;
Their widening scope,
Their distant employ,
We never shall know. And the stream as it flows
Sweeps them away,
Each one is gone
Ever beyond into infinite ways.
We alone stay
While years hurry on,
The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

Amy Lowell

--Did You Know: (February 9, 1874—May 12, 1925) Lowell was an American poet of the imagist school from Brookline, Massachusetts who posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1926. Lowell was born into Brookline's prominent Lowell family. One brother, Percival Lowell, was a famous astronomer who predicted the existence of the dwarf planet Pluto and believed the canals on Mars showed it hosted living intelligence; another brother, Abbott Lawrence Lowell, served as president of Harvard University. She never attended college because her family did not consider it proper for a woman, but she compensated for this with avid reading and near-obsessive book-collecting. She lived as a socialite and traveled widely, turning to poetry in 1902 after being inspired by a performance of Eleonora Duse in Europe. Read more at: Amy Lowell

--Poetry Terminology: Bacchic-
Classical meter consisting of three syllables per foot: one short, one long, one long.

--Word of the Day: platitude \PLAT-uh-tood; -tyood\ , noun
1. Staleness of ideas or language; triteness.
2. A thought or remark that is banal, trite, or stale.
Example:
Yet a curious thing happens in this book: Whatever promise it offers of satire and enlightened vision dissipates into cliche and platitude.
-(Edward Rothstein, "Against Galactic Rhetoric", New York Times, April 3, 1983)

--Quote of the Day: There is one friend in the life of each of us who seems not a separate person, however dear and beloved, but an expansion, an interpretation, of one's self, the very meaning of one's soul.
~Edith Wharton

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 19, 2010

The Impulse

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 20th C, Frost R., Love, Marriage, Nature, Separation-- 

It was too lonely for her there,
And too wild
And since there were but two of them
And no child...

And work was little in the house,
She was free,
And followed where he furrowed field,
Or felled tree.

She rested on a log and tossed
The fresh chips,
With a song only to herself
On her lips.

And once she went to break a bough
of black alder
She strayed so far she scarcely heard
When he called her--

And didn't answer--didn't speak--
Or return.
She stood, and then she ran and hid
In the fern.

He never found her, though he looked
Everywhere,
And he asked at her mother's house
Was she there.

Sudden and swift and light as that
The ties gave,
And he learned of finalities
Beside the grave.

Robert Frost

--Did You Know: (March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963) Frost was an American poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. Robert Frost was born in San Francisco, California to journalist William Prescott Frost, Jr., and Isabelle Moodie. His mother was of Scottish descent, and his father descended from Nicholas Frost of Tiverton, Devon, England, who had sailed to New Hampshire in 1634 on the Wolfrana. Frost's father was a teacher and later an editor of the San Francisco Evening Bulletin. After his father's death on May 5, 1885, in due time the family moved across the country to Lawrence, Massachusetts under the patronage of (Robert's grandfather) William Frost, Sr., who was an overseer at a New England mill. Frost graduated from Lawrence High School in 1892. Frost's mother joined the Swedenborgian church and had him baptized in it, but he left it as an adult. Despite his later association with rural life, Frost grew up in the city, and published his first poem in his high school's magazine. Read more at: Robert Frost

--Word of the Day: jnana \juh-NAH-nuh\, noun:
Absolute knowledge acquired through meditation and study as a means of reaching (in Hinduism) Brahman; (in Buddhism) a state of awareness independent of conceptual thought.
Example:
In the world there are too many fools passing as devoted to God for want of the strength of jnana, knowledge, and buddhi, reason.
-Ranganathananda (Swami.), Elva Linnéa Nelson, Human being in depth: a scientific approach to religion

--Quote of the Day:
We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic cords of memory will swell when again touched as surely they will be by the better angels of our nature.
~Abraham Lincoln

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

Away Delights

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 17th C, Fletcher J., Disillusion, Love-- 

Away, delights! go seek some other dwelling,
For I must die.
Farewell, false love! thy tongue is ever telling
Lie after lie.
For ever let me rest now from thy smarts;
Alas, for pity go
And fire their hearts
That have been hard to thee! Mine was not so.

Never again deluding love shall know me,
For I will die;
And all those griefs that think to overgrow me
Shall be as I:
For ever will I sleep, while poor maids cry--
'Alas, for pity stay,
And let us die
With thee! Men cannot mock us in the clay.'

John Fletcher

--Did You Know: (1579 – 1625) Fletcher was a Jacobean playwright. Following William Shakespeare as house playwright for the King's Men, he was among the most prolific and influential dramatists of his day; both during his lifetime and in the early Restoration, his fame rivaled Shakespeare's. Though his reputation has been eclipsed since, Fletcher remains an important transitional figure between the Elizabethan popular tradition and the popular drama of the Restoration. His mastery is most notable in two dramatic types, tragicomedy and comedy of manners, both of which exerted a pervasive influence on dramatists in the reign of Charles I and during the Restoration. Read more at: John Fletcher

--Word of the Day: billingsgate \BIL-ingz-gayt; -git\, noun
Coarsely abusive, foul, or profane language.
Example:
Chaney would yell at him in his own particular patois -- an unapologetic stream of billingsgate far more creative than Marine drill instructors or master rappers.
-(George Vecsey, "Learning at Temple: Se Habla Chaneyism", New York Times, March 19, 2000)

--Quote of the Day: True friendship comes when silence between two people is comfortable.
~Dave Tyson Gentry

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 18, 2010

Weekly Poetry News: 5/18/10

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

Weekly Poetry News
See what's going on the world of poets and poetry. Discover new events, literature, history and more. Check in often to saturate yourself with thoughts and words of poets and authors from around the world.



Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 14, 2010

Exchanging Hats

Bookmark and Share


Pin It
--Description: 20th C, Bishop E., Humor --
Unfunny uncles who insist
in trying on a lady's hat,
--oh, even if the joke falls flat,
we share your slight transvestite twist

in spite of our embarrassment.
Costume and custom are complex.
The headgear of the other sex
inspires us to experiment.

Anandrous aunts, who, at the beach
with paper plates upon your laps,
keep putting on the yachtsmen's caps
with exhibitionistic screech,

the visors hanging o'er the ear
so that the golden anchors drag,
--the tides of fashion never lag.
Such caps may not be worn next year.

Or you who don the paper plate
itself, and put some grapes upon it,
or sport the Indian's feather bonnet,
--perversities may aggravate

the natural madness of the hatter.
And if the opera hats collapse
and crowns grow draughty, then, perhaps,
he thinks what might a miter matter?

Unfunny uncle, you who wore a
hat too big, or one too many,
tell us, can't you, are there any
stars inside your black fedora?

Aunt exemplary and slim,
with avernal eyes, we wonder
what slow changes they see under
their vast, shady, turned-down brim.


Elizabeth Bishop

--Did You Know: (8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979) Bishop was an American poet and writer. She was the Poet Laureate of the United States from 1949 to 1950, and a Pulitzer Prize winner in 1956. Elizabeth Bishop House is an artist's retreat in Great Village, Nova Scotia dedicated to her memory. Elizabeth Bishop was born in Worcester, Massachusetts. After her father, a successful builder, died when she was eight months old, Bishop’s mother became mentally ill and was institutionalized in 1916. Bishop would later write about the time of her mother's struggles in her short story "In The Village." Effectively orphaned, during her very early childhood, she lived with her grandparents on a farm in Nova Scotia, a period she would later reference in her writing. Bishop's mother remained in an asylum until her death in 1934, and the two were never reunited. Read more at: E. Bishop

--Word of the Day: mugwump \MUHG-wuhmp\, noun:
1. A person who is unable to make up his or her mind on an issue, esp. in politics; a person who is neutral on a controversial issue.
2. A Republican who refused to support the party nominee, James G. Blaine, in the presidential campaign of 1884.
Example:
Twain declared that people arrive at their religion and politics "Second-hand and without examination," and proclaimed himself a Mugwump and anti-Imperialist. Those of all political persuasions quote and misquote him and claim him as a spokesman for their opposing views.
-Cindy Lovell, Mark Twain's legacy worth preserving, Kansas City Star

--Quote of the Day: Every man and woman is born into the world to do something unique and something distinctive; and if he or she does not do it, it will never be done.
-Benjamin E. Mays

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 13, 2010

Regret

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 19th C, Bronte C., Childhood, Aging, Disillusion, Fantasy--

Long ago I wished to leave
" The house where I was born; "
Long ago I used to grieve,
My home seemed so forlorn.
In other years, its silent rooms
Were filled with haunting fears;
Now, their very memory comes
O'ercharged with tender tears.

Life and marriage I have known,
Things once deemed so bright;
Now, how utterly is flown
Every ray of light !
'Mid the unknown sea of life
I no blest isle have found;
At last, through all its wild wave's strife,
My bark is homeward bound.

Farewell, dark and rolling deep !
Farewell, foreign shore !
Open, in unclouded sweep,
Thou glorious realm before !
Yet, though I had safely pass'd
That weary, vexed main,
One loved voice, through surge and blast,
Could call me back again.

Though the soul's bright morning rose
O'er Paradise for me,
William ! even from Heaven's repose
I'd turn, invoked by thee !
Storm nor surge should e'er arrest
My soul, exulting then:
All my heaven was once thy breast,
Would it were mine again !



Charlotte Bronte

--Did You Know: (21 April 1816 – 31 March 1855) Brontë was a British novelist, the eldest of the three famous Brontë sisters whose novels have become standards of English literature. Charlotte Brontë, who used the pen name Currer Bell, is best known for Jane Eyre, one of the most famous English novels. Charlotte was born in Thornton, Yorkshire, England, in 1816, the third of six children, to Patrick Brontë (formerly "Patrick Brunty"), an Irish Anglican clergyman, and his wife, Maria Branwell. At home in Haworth Parsonage, Charlotte and the other surviving children — Branwell, Emily and Anne — began chronicling the lives and struggles of the inhabitants of their imaginary kingdoms. Charlotte and Branwell wrote Byronic stories about their country — Angria — and Emily and Anne wrote articles and poems about theirs — Gondal. The sagas were elaborate and convoluted (and still exist in part manuscripts) and provided them with an obsessive interest in childhood and early adolescence, which prepared them for their literary vocations in adulthood. Read more at: Charlotte Bronte

--Poetry Terminology: Weak Ending -
Where a word or syllable at the end of a line of verse is stressed metrically but is unstressed in ordinary speech.

--Word of the Day: iatrogenic \ahy-a-truh-JEN-ik\, adjective:
A malady induced inadvertently by a physician or surgeon or by medical treatment or diagnostic procedures.
Example:
Chronic insomnia thus becomes a self-perpetuating and/or iatrogenic condition as sufferers are prescribed (or acquire) hypnotics for transient sleeplessness, and then develop an ongoing problem getting to sleep without chemical aid.
-New York Times, reader comment, April 2010

--Quote of the Day:
Sometimes imagination pounces; mostly it sleeps soundly in the corner, purring. ~Terri Guillemets

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 12, 2010

The Little Boy Found

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 19th C, Blake W., Children, Christianity, Parenting--


The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wandering light,
Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale,
The little boy weeping sought.


William Blake

--Did You Know: (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) Blake was an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of both the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age. His prophetic poetry has been said to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language".[1] His visual artistry has led one modern critic to proclaim him "far and away the greatest artist Britain has ever produced". On 8th October 1779, Blake became a student at the Royal Academy in Old Somerset House, near the Strand. While the terms of his study required no payment, he was expected to supply his own materials throughout the six-year period. There, he rebelled against what he regarded as the unfinished style of fashionable painters such as Rubens, championed by the school's first president, Joshua Reynolds. Over time, Blake came to detest Reynolds' attitude toward art, especially his pursuit of "general truth" and "general beauty". Read more at: William Blake

--Word of the Day: Babylon /(BAB-uh-luhn, -lawn)
noun: A place of great luxury and extravagance, usually accompanied with vice and corruption.
After Babylon, an ancient city of southwestern Asia, on the Euphrates River. It was the capital of Babylonia and known for its opulence and culture. It was the site of Hanging Gardens, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.
Example:
"Tsuyoshi Morimoto said that when the economic crisis hit the international market, many big companies turned to Iraq in hopes that it would save them. 'Big companies talked a lot about Iraq and paid a huge amount of attention to it. It is just like we suddenly built a Babylon, and now the Babylon is collapsing.'"
-Qassim Khidhir; "Don't Expect Too Much From Iraq"; Kurdish Globe (Arbil, Kurdistan); Jan 16, 2010.

--Quote of the Day: "One thing we can do is make the choice to view the world in a healthy way. We can choose to see the world as safe with only moments of danger rather than seeing the world as dangerous with only moments of safety."
-Deepak Chopra

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com


Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood

Related articles by Zemanta
Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 11, 2010

Weekly Poetry News: 5/11/10

Bookmark and Share


Pin It

Weekly Poetry News
See what's going on the world of poets and poetry. Discover new events, literature, history and more. Check in often to saturate yourself with thoughts and words of poets and authors from around the world.



Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It

May 10, 2010

A Portrait

Bookmark and Share


Pin It


--Description: 19th C, Holmes O.W., Life, Nature-- 

Thoughtful in youth, but not austere in age;
Calm, but not cold, and cheerful though a sage;
Too true to flatter and too kind to sneer,
And only just when seemingly severe;
So gently blending courtesy and art
That wisdom's lips seemed borrowing friendship's heart.

Taught by the sorrows that his age had known
In others' trials to forget his own,
As hour by hour his lengthened day declined,
A sweeter radiance lingered o'er his mind.
Cold were the lips that spoke his early praise,
And hushed the voices of his morning days,
Yet the same accents dwelt on every tongue,
And love renewing kept him ever young.


Oliver Wendell Holmes

--Did You Know: (August 29, 1809 – October 7, 1894) Holmes was an American physician, professor, lecturer, and author. Regarded by his peers as one of the best writers of the 19th century, he is considered a member of the Fireside Poets. His most famous prose works are the "Breakfast-Table" series, which began with The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table (1858). He is recognized as an important medical reformer. Born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Holmes was educated at Phillips Academy and Harvard College. After graduating from Harvard in 1829, he briefly studied law before turning to the medical profession. He began writing poetry at an early age; one of his most famous works, "Old Ironsides", was published in 1830. Following training at the prestigious medical schools of Paris, Holmes was granted his M.D. from Harvard Medical School in 1836. He taught at Dartmouth Medical School before returning to teach at Harvard and, for a time, served as dean there. During his long professorship, he became an advocate for various medical reforms and notably posited the controversial idea that doctors were capable of carrying puerperal fever from patient to patient. Holmes retired from Harvard in 1882 and continued writing poetry, novels and essays until his death in 1894. See more at: Oliver Wendell Holmes

--Word of the Day: sough \SAU; SUHF\, intransitive verb:
1. To make a soft, low sighing or rustling sound, as the wind.
noun:
1. A soft, low rustling or sighing sound.
Example:
At a recent visit to Marsha's grave in Rathdrum, as the wind soughed through the towering pines nearby, Marsha's brother Pat left a silk bluebird by her headstone to honor her love of the outdoors.
-David Whitman, "Fields of Fire", U.S. News & World Report, September 3, 2001

--Quote of the Day: A house without books is like a room without windows.
-Horace Mann

Coffee Table Poetry for Tea Drinkers is updated often. Subscribe by selecting E-mail or RSS Reader. Also, come follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Poets and Advertisers-please contact us to post your press releases, new book info, graphics and more at: coffeetablepoet@gmail.com

Enjoy these other unique locations:
Coffee Table Poetry's Guest Book For Poets
Cool iPhone, iPad, iPod Touch Apps
Posted by V. Mahfood


Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Pin It
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Subscribe RSS

coffee128

*Your AD or LINK

~ Place your site link or ad here!






Labels

 

Copyright ©2008-2012 Coffee Table Poetry For Tea Drinkers by V. Mahfood

Copyright © 2008-2010 Green Scrapbook Diary Designed by SimplyWP | Made free by Scrapbooking Software | Bloggerized by Ipiet Notez