by Richard Subber | Apr 15, 2025 | Books, Joys of reading, Language, My poetry, Poetry
the boolies mimed…
ronday vue
It was time for a furling gat,
the mossty boys all wore a hat,
they rumbled when the clepsys chimed,
they crumbled when the boolies mimed,
and on their way they ratlinged fine
and mortled as they kept in line.
The mook they made was loud and blam,
the dancing was appoint, and skram,
chandilling as they jamped each step,
so trilling as they klamped each rep,
their ronday lasted all the night,
at morning they were flamp and skite.
October 22, 2024
I’m learning from my friend Mike…
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
How does a poem end?
“Finis,” my thoughts (my poem)
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Writing Rainbows: Poems for Grown-Ups with 59 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.
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by Richard Subber | Apr 10, 2025 | Language, Poetry, Tidbits
poetry can be rain…
“One evening in the maize-field…to amuse myself,
I spoke to the field laborers, who were mostly quite young,
in Swaheli [sic] verse. There was no sense in the verse,
it was made for the sake of rhyme…
They were quick to understand that the meaning of poetry
is of no consequence,
and they did not question the thesis of the verse,
but waited eagerly for the rhyme, and laughed at it when it came….
As they had become used to the idea of poetry, they begged:
‘Speak again. Speak like rain.’ ”
quote from Out of Africa, pp. 285-286
Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen) (1885-1962)
New York: The Modern Library, 1937, 1992
399 pages
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Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
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Above all: Poems of dawn and more with 73 free verse poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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by Richard Subber | Mar 29, 2025 | Book reviews, Books, Books Commentary, Joys of reading, Language, Poetry
Moby-Dick and stuff….
I know whale tales aren’t for everyone.
If you’re still with me, you might be interested to know that Herman Melville’s iconic whale story was published 174 years ago (titled: “The Whale”) in London, and then, a month later, in New York.
The original American title is Moby-Dick; or, The Whale. Melville actually went to sea as a crewman on a whaling vessel, and based his novel in part on a real sperm whale named Mocha Dick, known to South Pacific sailors in the 1840s.
Early in his career Melville was briefly acclaimed for some of his South Pacific stories, such as Typee, but he was obscure during the last 30 years of his life. He earned only $1,200 or so from the sale of about 3,200 copies of Moby-Dick, which was out of print when he died in 1891.
A first American edition of the book can easily be secured if you have about $80,000 (free shipping!) to spend.
Melville wrote in a variety of genres—again, not for all tastes. I’m a big fan of Moby-Dick, and I’m also an advocate for Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street. Nothing of the South Pacific here. The circumstances of this desiccated short story are curious, even eccentric, incredulous. The withered and aloof Bartleby is presented, examined and disdained, until his very dispirited isolation makes him the object of the narrator’s genuine but increasingly troubled caretaking.
Don’t overlook Billy Budd, Sailor. It’s a searing morality play.
You may be surprised to know that Melville also wrote poetry. One critic has somewhat ponderously suggested that Moby-Dick is filled with Melville’s incipient poetry. I certainly believe that a story can contain a poem, but I don’t see anything like that in Moby-Dick.
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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
The “dime novels” in the Civil War
Think “blood-and-thunder”…
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My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 52 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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by Richard Subber | Mar 4, 2025 | Book reviews, Books, Human Nature, Language
humanity surging…
Book review:
Winesburg, Ohio
by Sherwood Anderson (1876-1941)
Simon & Brown, 1919, 2012
208 pages
The reader of Winesburg, Ohio (1919) is tempted to think of Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology (1915), but the reader should resist the temptation.
There is very little of society in Spoon River, and so much of society in each of Anderson’s short stories. The humanity surges in these stories, and they touch so many memories of being with other people and making life happen.
At the end of each story—“Nobody knows,” “The untold lie,” and the list goes on—the reader wonders:
is there more?
is there more to know?
is there more truth?
It’s easy to put this book down, and it’s easier to pick it up again.
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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
Book review: The Proud Tower
…a lot more than a history book…
by Barbara Tuchman
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many waters: more poems with 53 free verse poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
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by Richard Subber | Mar 1, 2025 | Books, Language, My poetry, Poetry
The Book of Days
The dawn’s early light can be pleasure enough for the whole day.
There are words enough to tell the story of “the temptation of day to come.”
It is my delight to write some of them for your delectation.
a tasting
…the second look is the keeper.
The clouds are shifting shapes,
moving quickly
across the new morning sky,
the smudge and fold of flannel,
becoming flan,
nudging the smear
of cream sauce,
filling the sky
with hasty pudding
and the like,
making a menu
that lasts mere moments…
January 4, 2025
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
Book review: To Serve Them All My Days
by R. F. Delderfield
A beloved teacher,
you know this story…
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many waters: more poems with 53 free verse poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.
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by Richard Subber | Jan 14, 2025 | Language, My poetry, Poetry
the horses lost their jobs
It was red
What’s left are the last thin hunks
of that heroic red machine,
planted in the front field,
not going anywhere,
still pointed to its last destination.
This is a marvel of machine,
a completely rusted spectacle of progress,
form invites quick memories
of function…
It doesn’t tempt the kids,
there are no pedals to push,
the big seat is too high
and it’s too rough for bouncing,
and it’s too far from the thick rusty wheel
with no horn,
the big rugged tractor tires
turned one last time
when the moon and the stars
and the sun were younger.
Once it was a noisy monster,
the farmer called the thing “Bab,”
it scared the horses who lost their jobs,
it scattered the goats and the hens,
the pigs went rooting
on the other side of the barn.
Old farmers remember their first ride
on their magic new machines
that chugged everywhere, pulled anything,
each tractor needed its own tool box,
half metal stuff, half mystery stuff,
and the farmers knew
how to keep them going,
and they knew the secret kick
that finished many repair jobs.
This rig’s driver never used
a couple of the rods
and a few of the knobby connectors,
and he never wondered
why he didn’t know
what they were for.
The spectral farmer in baggy overalls
who starts to fill the tank each night
always struggles with the cap,
and always decides to wait…
October 27, 2024
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.
Book review: Shakespeare’s Wife
Germaine Greer just went overboard a bit…
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My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 53 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”
Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.
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