Walking With Katherine
"come walk we two
across flame red sky
two birds soar flying
silent solitary shadows
would clip our wings
in home ominous flight
blood red flame sunsets
bathe glorious horizons
bruised epic bleed rivers"
"All day
the triumphant
sun with yellow banners
Warred and warred
with the earth,
and when she yielded
Stabbed her heart,
gathered her blood
in a chalice,
Spilling it over
the evening sky.
When the dark
plumaged birds
go flying, flying,
Quiet lies the earth
wrapt in her
mournful shadow,
Her sightless eyes
turned to the red sky
And the restlessly
seeking birds."
exceptionally exquisite
a vibrant emotive poem
sadly not appreciated
KM by random critics
lacking sunset visions
reverent appreciation
come walk we soar
across flame red sky
free birds soar flying
First three stanzas quotation, the poem ‘Home Ominous Flight' by Terence George Craddock.
Stanzas four to ten, quoted lines in changed format, from the exquisite poem ‘Across The Red Sky' by Katherine Mansfield.
Dedicated to Katherine Mansfield.
Copyright © Katherine Mansfield, Terence George Craddock
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Across The Red Sky
Across the red sky two birds flying,
Flying with drooping wings.
Silent and solitary their ominous flight.
All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners
Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded
Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice,
Spilling it over the evening sky.
When the dark plumaged birds go flying, flying,
Quiet lies the earth wrapt in her mournful shadow,
Her sightless eyes turned to the red sky
And the restlessly seeking birds.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home Ominous Flight
come walk we two
across flame red sky
two birds soar flying
silent solitary shadows
would clip our wings
in home ominous flight
blood red flame sunsets
bathe glorious horizons
bruised epic bleed rivers
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silent Solitary Ominous Kiwi Flight
New Zealand remains
inherent a cannibal culture eats
irreverent literary genius
honoured are our sports
heroes believed All Blacks
legendary spirit decades
depicting nationalistic passions
viewed hallowed internationals
sanctified are epic test matches
against Springboks Wallabies
great epic rival Rugby Nations
holy grail reverent conversions
chasing elusive pig skin tries
team skills scrum honed religious
national international matches
makes kiwi blood boil victorious
game not country's hallowed pages
fail forgotten forlorn literary arts
regarded with great respect kiwi arts
reverence bestowed on foreign shores
Katherine Mansfield pen name cloaks
write prominent modernist short fictions
flavour focus vivacious charismatic lives
Virginia Woolf D.H. Lawrence befriends
restlessly seeking plumaged kiwi birds
go far flying flying foreign banner skies
chalice blood gathered wit weeping cries
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Dedicated to Katherine Mansfield, with wreaths woven with a final stanza image, transcribed from her poem ‘Across The Red Sky'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sea
The Sea called--I lay on the rocks and said:
"I am come."
She mocked and showed her teeth,
Stretching out her long green arms.
"Go away!" she thundered.
"Then tell me what I am to do," I begged.
"If I leave you, you will not be silent,
But cry my name in the cities
And wistfully entreat me in the plains and forests;
All else I forsake to come to you--what must I do?"
"Never have I uttered your name," snarled the Sea.
"There is no more of me in your body
Than the little salt tears you are frightened of shedding.
What can you know of my love on your brown rock
pillow....
Come closer."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To L. H. B. (1894-1915 )
Last night for the first time since you were dead
I walked with you, my brother, in a dream.
We were at home again beside the stream
Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red.
"Don't touch them: they are poisonous," I said.
But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam
Of strange, bright laughter flying round your head
And as you stooped I saw the berries gleam.
"Don't you remember? We called them Dead Man's
Bread!"
I woke and heard the wind moan and the roar
Of the dark water tumbling on the shore.
Where--where is the path of my dream for my eager
feet?
By the remembered stream my brother stands
Waiting for me with berries in his hands...
"These are my body. Sister, take and eat."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Quarrel
Our quarrel seemed a giant thing,
It made the room feel mean and small,
The books, the lamp, the furniture,
The very pictures on the wall--
Crowded upon us as we sat
Pale and terrified, face to face.
"Why do you stay?" she said, "my room
Can never be your resting place."
"Katinka, ere we part for life,
I pray you walk once more with me."
So down the dark, familiar road
We paced together, silently.
The sky--it seemed on fire with stars!
I said:--"Katinka dear, look up!"
Like thirsty children, both of us
Drank from the giant loving cup.
"Who were those dolls?" Katinka said
"What were their stupid, vague alarms?"
And suddenly we turned and laughed
And rushed into each other's arms.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Firelight
Playing in the fire and twilight together,
My little son and I,
Suddenly--woefully--I stoop to catch him.
"Try, mother, try!"
Old Nurse Silence lifts a silent finger:
"Hush! cease your play!"
What happened? What in that tiny moment
Flew away?
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grown-Up Talk
Half-Past-Six and I were talking
In a very grown-up way;
We had got so tired with running
That we did not want to play.
"How do babies come, I wonder,"
He said, looking at the sky,
"Does God mix the things together
An' just make it-like a pie?"
I was really not quite certain,
But it sounded very nice;
It was all that we could think of,
Besides a book said "sugar and spice."
Half-Past-Six said--He's so clever--
Cleverer than me, I mean...
"I suppose God makes the black ones
When the saucepan isn't clean."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fine Day
After all the rain, the sun
Shines on hill and grassy mead;
Fly into the garden, child,
You are very glad indeed.
For the days have been so dull,
Oh, so special dark and drear,
That you told me, "Mr. Sun
Has forgotten we live here."
Dew upon the lily lawn,
Dew upon the garden beds;
Daintly from all the leaves
Pop the little primrose heads.
And the violets in the copse
With their parasols of green
Take a little peek at you;
They're the bluest you have seen.
On the lilac tree a bird
Singing first a little not,
Then a burst of happy song
Bubbles in his lifted throat.
O the sun, the comfy sun!
This the song that you must sing,
"Thank you for the birds, the flowers,
Thank you, sun, for everything."
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Soar On Wings Of Songs
birth born birds of flight
soar on wings of songs
carried upon chorus air
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mine Heart Aspires
mine heart aspires
to soar like an eagle
but it is hard to soar
like an eagle
when you walk
with a turkey
rejecting mind visions
join birds of heaven
climb stairway to heaven
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Arabian Shawl
"It is cold outside, you will need a coat--
What! this old Arabian shawl!
Bind it about your head and throat,
These steps... it is dark... my hand... you
might fall."
What has happened? What strange, sweet charm
Lingers about the Arabian shawl...
Do not tremble so! There can be no harm
In just remembering--that is all.
"I love you so--I will be your wife,"
Here, in the dark of the Terrace wall,
Say it again. Let that other life
Fold us like the Arabian shawl.
"Do you remember?"... "I quite forget,
Some childish foolishness, that is all,
To-night is the first time we have met...
Let me take off my Arabian shawl!"
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Deaf House Agent
That deaf old man
With his hand to his ear--
His hand to hi head stood out like a shell,
Horny and hollow. He said, "I can't hear,"
He muttered, "Don't shout,
I can hear very well!"
He mumbled, "I can't catch a word;
I can't follow."
Then Jack with a voice like a Protestant bell
Roared--"Particulars! Farmhouse! At 10 quid a year!"
"I dunno wot place you are talking about."
Said the deaf old man.
Said Jack, "What the Hell!"
But the deaf old man took a pin from his desk, picked
a piece of wool the size of a hen's egg from his ear,
had a good look at it, decided in its favour and re-
placed it in the aforementioned organ.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Family
Hinemoa, Tui, Maina,
All of them were born together;
They are quite an extra special
Set of babies--wax and leather.
Every day they took an airing;
Mummy made them each a bonnet;
Two were cherry, one was yellow
With a bow of ribbon on it.
Really, sometimes we would slap them,
For if ever we were talking,
They would giggle and be silly,
Saying, "Mamma, take us walking."
But we never really loved them
Till one day we left them lying
In the garden--through a hail-storm,
And we heard the poor dears crying.
Half-Past-Six said--"You're a mother!
What if Mummy did forget you?"
So I said, "Well, you're their Father.
Get them!" but I wouldn't let you.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Joyful Song Of Five
Come, let us all sing very high
And all sing very loud
And keep on singing in the street
Until there's quite a crowd;
And keep on singing in the house
And up and down the stairs;
Then underneath the furniture
Let's all play Polar bears;
And crawl about with doormats on,
And growl and howl and squeak,
Then in the garden let us fly
And play at hid and seek;
And "Here we gather Nuts and May,"
"I wrote a Letter" too,
"Here we go round the Mulberry Bush,"
"The Child who lost its shoe";
And every game we ever played.
And then--to stay alive--
Let's end with lots of Birthday Cake
Because to-day you're five.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eagle Spirit
eagles soar
on high thermals
fly through
such wonderous
freeborn skies
a multiversality
kaleidoscopic
sensual
spiritual
ever changing
seasons
nest on highest
most noble
sun eclipsed
inaccessible crags
or vibrant
living temples
trees raising
towards heaven
growing upwards
into host life
giving light
range soar
across desolate
canyons
holy places
where Native
Americans
built pueblo
adobe houses
care houses
upon spiritual
sun paths...
piercingly
beautiful
sky images
celebrating
auras
earth heat
thermal
energy fields
keen eyes
pierce heat
waves
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
The four individual elements of this mosaic concept are also posted separately as the poem ‘Eagles Soar On High Thermals’, ‘Eagle Eyries’, ‘Eagle Flight’ and ‘Eagle Sight’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Awakening River
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river,
And the river unveils her face and smiles.
In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings.
She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her.
He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her.
There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter.
Be careful, my beautiful waking one! You will catch
on fire.
Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their
breasts,
The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings,
Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean,
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river.
Wake! we are the dream thoughts flying form your heart.
Wake! we are the songs of desire flowing from your
bosom.
O, I think the sun will lend her his great wings
And the river will fly to the sea with the mad-in-
love birds.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What the Birds Said
The birds against the April wind
Flew northward, singing as they flew;
They sang, "The land we leave behind
Has swords for corn-blades, blood for dew."
"O wild-birds, flying from the South,
What saw and heard ye, gazing down?"
"We saw the mortar's upturned mouth,
The sickened camp, the blazing town!
"Beneath the bivouac's starry lamps,
We saw your march-worn children die;
In shrouds of moss, in cypress swamps,
We saw your dead uncoffined lie.
"We heard the starving prisoner's sighs
And saw, from line and trench, your sons
Follow our flight with home-sick eyes
Beyond the battery's smoking guns."
"And heard and saw ye only wrong
And pain," I cried, "O wing-worn flocks?"
"We heard," they sang, "the freedman's song,
The crash of Slavery's broken locks!
"We saw from new, uprising States
The treason-nursing mischief spurned,
As, crowding Freedom's ample gates,
The long-estranged and lost returned.
"O'er dusky faces, seamed and old,
And hands horn-hard with unpaid toil,
With hope in every rustling fold,
We saw your star-dropt flag uncoil.
"And struggling up through sounds accursed,
A grateful murmur clomb the air;
A whisper scarcely heard at first,
It filled the listening heavens with prayer.
"And sweet and far, as from a star,
Replied a voice which shall not cease,
Till, drowning all the noise of war,
It sings the blessed song of peace!"
So to me, in a doubtful day
Of chill and slowly greening spring,
Low stooping from the cloudy gray,
The wild-birds sang or seemed to sing.
They vanished in the misty air,
The song went with them in their flight;
But lo! they left the sunset fair,
And in the evening there was light.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Storm
I Ran to the forest for shelter,
Breathless, half sobbing;
I put my arms round a tree,
Pillowed my head against the rough bark.
"Protect me," I said. "I am a lost child."
But the tree showered silver drops on my face and hair.
A wind sprang up from the ends of the earth;
It lashed the forest together.
A huge green wave thundered and burst over my head.
I prayed, implored, "Please take care of me!"
But the wind pulled at my cloak and the rain beat upon
me.
Little rivers tore up the ground and swamped the bushes.
A frenzy possessed the earth: I felt that the earth was
drowning
In a bubbling cavern of space. I alone--
Smaller than the smallest fly--was alive and terrified.
Then for what reason I know not, I became trium-
phant
"Well, kill me!" I cried and ran out into the open.
But the storm ceased: the sun spread his wings
And floated serene in the silver pool of the sky.
I put my hands over my face: I was blushing.
And the trees swung together and delicately laughed.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eagles Soar On High Thermals
eagles soar
on high thermals
fly through
such wonderous
freeborn skies
a multiversality
kaleidoscopic
sensual
spiritual
ever changing
seasons
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also complete mosaic concept in the poem ‘Eagle Spirit’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!