Alfred Lord Tennyson, born 6 August 1809

   Tennyson followed William Wordsworth as Poet Laureate, in 1850. Daunting not only because of his predecessor, the role of the Laureateship was changing and Tennyson had not been the first choice.

    When I taught English IV- British Literature- I always felt we cheated the post-Romantic 19th Century. We leap-frogged over them from the romantics to Eliot and Auden, at least in my class. Partially that was due to it being the end of the semester, and in the Spring, graduation neared.

    The Idylls of the King esepcially was ignored, mainly due to its length. But Tennyson imbues the narative iambic pentameter prose with majesty. I caught some of that in graduate school. Right now Arthur's final words speak clearly to me amidst the backdrop of a confusing election campaign in the USa and other events around the world:

http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/tennyson/tennybio.html  - a brief biography of the poet

And slowly answer'd Arthur from the barge:
 "The old order changeth, yielding place to new,             240
 And God fulfils Himself in many ways,
 Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
 Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me?
 I have lived my life, and that which I have done
 May He within Himself make pure! but thou,
 If thou shouldst never see my face again,
 Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
 Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
 Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
 For what are men better than sheep or goats                 250
 That nourish a blind life within the brain,
 If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
 Both for themselves and those who call them friend?

https://library.sc.edu/spcoll/britlit/tenn/morte.html  the entire text

Now this is progress!!!!

   One of my alma maters, the University of California-Irvine, has been ranked Number Two in a listing of Best College Town's. Columbia, South Carolina, near me is Number 3.

    Back in 1975 I went to a student welcome party on the very new campus. The student union was in a double wide called The Antrap. Students has chosen the Anteater from the B>C> comic strip as its mascot. I thought that was weird but since I has been granted a teaching assistant

ship, which UC-Berkeley did not give me, I kept my thoughts to myself.

    When the leg of beer ran dry, someone asked me for a dollar towards a beer run. Then somebody else asked who was 21 and able to buy beer. My hand was the only one raised.

    There was not much to do on campus or in town in those days, but I enjoyed myself. Usually we went to Newport Beach, Balboa Island or something like that. I remember my time there fondly, and a few years later tried to return to California for my seminary internship and beyond. That didn't happen, but that;s all right!


http://www.livability.com/top-10/college/10-best-college-towns/2016/ca/irvine

"Thunder Road" by Springsteen is Stand-Alone Poetry

     Not all song lyrics can be read as poetry. But Bruce Springsteen's lyrics for "Thunder Road" portray the frustration of people who are no longer young who throw all caution to the winds and have "one last chance to make it real". I heard the song on the way home from school. Yes, summer is ending.......

    I used to wonder whether I liked this one or "Born to Run" better (from the album of the same name. "Thunder Road" does it for me.



https://play.google.com/music/preview/Tkaqzxbkajokf6qzwdaxpvgakwa?lyrics=1&utm_source=google&utm_medium=search&utm_campaign=lyrics&pcampaignid=kp-lyrics&u=0#

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdhkaPZtQF4

A Good Time to Post this One from "Places and Times"

    Twelve years ago I visited Budapest, where part of my family had lived. A few years later I wrote this poem. 

At Buda Castle

A gathering around Buda Castle

On the night before the national feast.

Vendors’ booths crowding narrow paths upward,

Inside green swath teems between the towers.

Aromas of goulash arising from

Huge black kettles. Colorful dancers swirl

As they have before coming to this ground.

Burly, deep-voiced singer, with red-golden

Fu Manchu leads guitars and violins

Through folks songs inaccessible to me;

But they mesmerize those who understand.

Gradually voice and tune envelop me,

The songs soar far beyond the heavens.

Summer sun wending westward toward Sopron,

Below the Danube shimmers flowing east.

I gaze at the glowing with sunset walls

And feel long-desired connection at last.

Arthur Turfa, copyright 2015 Places and Times, eLectio Publishing

A Very Nice Honor

    A dear poet friend asked me to post a poem of mine that she really loves. I did, and in fact I posted it in several communities. POETS selected it for a unique honor. I had never been Poet of the Week before, and may never be again!

https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MarthaMagenta/posts/GXeyBuQSsXr?pid=6313826641317445026&oid=115354121419685309751

Here's the poem!

E’en’s Last Dark Hour
Before e’en’s last dark hour goes by
Softly, my sweet, take I my leave of thee.
Like the wild geese now away I must fly.

Times of bliss we have savored, you and I.
As I leave, thy face, soft with sleep, I see
Before e’en’s last dark hour goes by

Glimmering distantly in eastern sky
Helios rising over yonder tree
Like the wild geese now away I must fly

Long embraced we two under moonlight sky
Upon the lush green grasses of the lea
Before e’en’s last dark hour goes by

Before falling asleep, I heard thy sigh,
Beseeching me not to take leave of thee
Like the wild geese now away I must fly.

Before e’en’s last dark hour goes by
And thou the shining stars no longer see,
Beside thee, my love, I no longer lie.
Like the wild geese now away I must fly.

Arthur Turfa, © 2015

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New Blog from POETS Community

     Recently I became an Owner at the POETS Community. In order to highlight some of the great poems and poets, I have started a new blog, Castalia: Poems from the POETS Community. I hope to add something every ten days or so. There will be the poem, of course, a critique/reflection, and information about the poet.

http://arthurturfa.blogspot.com/

Impressive Turnout at 302 Artisans Summer Festival

    Approximately 300-400 people came to this lovely setting on a relatively-cool Sunday afternoon. I sold a decent amount, had a few promise to buy later, and participated in an Open Mic. the very first person who came runs a newly-opened downtown Columbia bookstore, and wants to carry my book. I also met someone form a local fair who put me on the list for April.

    Tentatively 302 Artisans will have an event in November. Jennifer Davis Gerdes manages the store, and did an excellent job of making everything happen. A local TV station did a feature on it; I could not find the video yet, but will add it should someone find it. 302 Senate Street is not so hard to find after all!