poetry

poetry

P. R. Bennett, “The Anarchist” (1912)

July 10, 2015 Shawn P. Wilbur
[From P. R. Bennett, Ducdame; a book of verses. 1912.] The Anarchist [A critic in the New Age suggests that modern thought can submit no longer to the tyranny of rhyme and metre.] Ravachol Needham was a man of letters, Who refused to submit to the wretched fetters That sought by rules of rhyme and scansion To prevent his soaring soul’s expansion. He had languished long on a dismal sonnet And wasted his eagle spirit on it, Till the poor old bird had been imprisoned So long that it grew depressed and wizened, Drooped its feathers and nearly moulted, Could […]
poetry

Albert Millaud, “Ravachol” (March 30, 1892)

May 18, 2015 Shawn P. Wilbur
[one_half padding=”0 10px 0 0px”] RAVACHOL Ravachol? Who knows Ravachol? Who knows how He is made? Is he a being? Is he a myth? Is he a man? Is he blond as honey, brown as a Spaniard? Is he small? average? stocky? short? tall? superb? Fat? lean? a bit of both? long-haired? bald? beardless? Alas! who will tell me how Ravachol is made? Ravachol? Where does he lie? Is he in France? in Asia? In Senegambia? or in Polynesia? Of what gulf, isle or cape does he tramp the soil? In what wood? on what mount ? in what virgin forest? […]
poetry

Jeanne Marie, “Revelation” (1849)

August 20, 2012 Shawn P. Wilbur
[“Jeanne Marie” (probably Jeanne-Marie Monniot) also contributed this poem to l’Opinion des Femmes. A literal translation follows.] Révelation. Mère, comme il fait froid! la terre est toute blanche; Le mont, déjà trois fois, a roulé l’avalanche; Un instant a suffi pour chasser les beaux jours Et dépouiller le val de verdure et d amours. Les oiseaux frissonnants désertent le bocage, La plaine est comme un lac immense et sans rivage, Les pauvres voyageurs errants sur les chemins. Qu’ils sont infortunés, mère, et que je les plains, Alors qu’auprès de l’âtre où la flamme pétille, Lisant à la lueur de la […]
poetry

Eugène Pottier, “Already!” (dedicated to Paule Mink)

June 21, 2012
ALREADY! Eugène Pottier To the citizen Paule Mink. At the break of day, the snow falls, Swirled by the air; A sheet of dove’s feathers Covers the deserted cobblestones. I soon passed that way again, Where wheels and men’s feet floundered; No more snow, alas! but slush!             Already! Was she yet fifteen? Certainly not! Not yet, but at the same time old. With a great tint to her face, But nothing of youth or spring. The dazed look in her eyes Told what vulture gnawed at her; I could sense the corpse in her,             Already! She was filthy […]
Contr'un

Responses to Anarchism: the Rhyme of Ravachol Needham

August 10, 2010 Shawn P. Wilbur
[From P. R. Bennett, Ducdame; a book of verses. 1912.] The Anarchist [A critic in the New Age suggests that modern thought can submit no longer to the tyranny of rhyme and metre.] Ravachol Needham was a man of letters, Who refused to submit to the wretched fetters That sought by rules of rhyme and scansion To prevent his soaring soul’s expansion. He had languished long on a dismal sonnet And wasted his eagle spirit on it, Till the poor old bird had been imprisoned So long that it grew depressed and wizened, Drooped its feathers and nearly moulted, Could […]
poetry

“Josiah Warren” (poem) (1874)

June 29, 2007 Shawn P. Wilbur
[one_third padding=”0 10px 0 0px”]     JOSIAH WARREN. Who gave the world the boldest thought, That ever has by man been taught, And set the pride of wealth at naught? Josiah Warren. Who gave the parlor lectures best, From glowing love in his own breast, Which is to be by nations blest? Josiah Warren. Who made the good of man his prayer, And did to all around declare, The glory of a millionaire? Josiah Warren. Who taught the best industrial law, Which wit or wisdom ever saw, That after him shall millions draw? Josiah Warren. Who set the usury […]
equitable commerce

A Poem on Equitable Commerce

September 25, 2006 Shawn P. Wilbur
[The New Harmony Gazette published the following in December, 1827.] From the Saturday Evening Chronicle we copy, for the amusement of his friends, the following jeu d’esprit, on the Magazine kept by a late fellow-citizen at the corner of Elm and Fifth streets, Cincinnati, wherein a subscriber may receive, for one day’s labor, a similar amount of the labor of any other subscriber,—or may purchase articles at a wholesale price, adding thereto the value of the time necessarily consumed in the sale of the article. For an equal exchange of Labor, as valued by Time, now in successful operation, at […]
Blazing Star Library

William B. Greene, “Song of Espousal” (1840)

August 7, 2005 Shawn P. Wilbur
We find in the “TOKEN” for 1841, the following beautiful poem from the pen of Lieut. GREENE, son our our esteemed Postmaster, Nathaniel Greene, Esq. It breathes the very soul of martial poesy, and resembles in spirit the celebrated “Sword Song” of Kerner, which once rung through the German forces, calling them to valiant deeds.–Boston Eve. Gazette

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