Thursday, 8 October 2009

The Poetic Pull of Stripes

I have been so cold this week and I wanted layers.
I also wanted stripes.
And I wanted to wear my red shoes.
Those three factors combined to create this outfit.
The Matalan sleeveless dress was striped up with a stripey body from Dorothy Perkins (which is great for keeping my tights in place!)
A red sash from East and red shoes from Clarks brightens up the black.
I also found this velvet tuxedo from Tesco which has been hiding in my wardrobe since 2005.
As it is National Poetry Day here in the UK I thought I would share five of my favourite poems with you.
1. Matilda by Hilaire Belloc. I can still recite this poem by heart - learned under the sheets of my bed with the aid of a torch.
2. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas - it summed up everything I felt about wanting to hang on to my parents forever.
3. Warning by Jenny Joseph (When I am an old woman I shall wear purple)
4. Strange Meeting by Wildred Owen
5. Love Is by Adrian Henri

What's your favourite poem?


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  2. {sorry, unforgiveable typos on my} Let's try this again....Favorite poets by far for me are Pablo Neruda, Jose Marti, and Robert Frost. You have some great ones listed too. As for the outfit, love it and that blazer is to die for!

  3. You have given me an idea! I have tux blazers like yours..... Genius in using it for everyday wear!

  4. I love the Dylan Thomas and Jenny Joseph, I also like Ted Hughes' Wodwo and his new style of poetry. But I recited this poem by WB Yeats for my Grade VIII LAMDA exam and I love it. Happy National Poetry Day x

    WB Yeats - When You Are Old and Grey

    When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
    And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
    And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
    Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

    How many loved your moments of glad grace,
    And loved your beauty with love false or true,
    But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
    And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

    And bending down beside the glowing bars,
    Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
    And paced upon the mountains overhead
    And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

  5. when I was little, the first poem I ever memorized (author unknown) is the first that comes to mind because it WAS the first. it was a book with drawings of cats and poems about cats. This one was my favorite:

    Mrs. Flynn had over 30 cats
    at first she had two kittens
    a girl and boy
    for fun and joy
    named sport and milly mittens

    that april sport
    and mit (for short)
    had babies, scare and lapkins
    both born in style
    upon a pile
    of newly laundered napkins

    then lap and scare
    became a pair
    since girl cats mate with brothers
    producing puff, and flounce, and fluff, and blink and moon and others

    and when that batch
    played mix and match
    cats crowded ever nook
    and one named hum
    kept peering from
    Mrs. Flynns best pocketbook

    Now their owner loved them all
    and treated her home as theirs
    but we should be glad
    because she could have had
    two baboons or bears.

    *not sure if the last stanza is correct.

    I love poetry of all kinds. ;) I write poetry as well lol

  6. oh that poor velvet coat being so neglected for so long! make sure you continue to rectify that. it's AWESOME. love the red belt here, too. beautiful in general.

  7. Perfect ensemble... the stripes with the red look so young. I love it.

  8. favourite poets would be tennyson, frost and a german one named else lasker-schüler.

    favourite poem.. probably "a farewell" from tennyson:

    Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
    Thy tribute wave deliver:
    No more by thee my steps shall be,
    For ever and for ever.

    Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
    A rivulet then a river:
    Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
    For ever and for ever.

    But here will sigh thine alder tree
    And here thine aspen shiver;
    And here by thee will hum the bee,
    For ever and for ever.

    A thousand suns will stream on thee,
    A thousand moons will quiver;
    But not by thee my steps shall be,
    For ever and for ever.

  9. The stripe love is ever growing and for good reason.

    Thanks for the national poem day reminder. Dylan Thomas is my number one and Wilfred Owen my second.

  10. Great outfit, I love stripes too!

    Although I read a lot, it tends to be novels rather than poems. The only one that springs to mind is one I remember from school - 'Jabberwocky' by Lewis Carroll, 'Twas brillig and the slithy toves..............'

    Thanks for the memory :-)

  11. I feel so under educated. I can't remember any poems, haven't read any for so long. So I will make one up as its a special day for them.

    Your stripey top is cool,
    The red shoes hey they rule,
    So as not to feel like a fool,
    I'll pack this in... um now?.

    Yeah, the last line needs some work... x

  12. Thank you so much for sharing and Shopahollic - I'm honoured. A poem written for me on National Poetry Day.

  13. For some reason when I read this post, my first though was Dorothy Perkins + poetry = Dorothy Parker!

    Razors pain you;
    Rivers are damp;
    Acids stain you;
    And drugs cause cramp.
    Guns aren't lawful;
    Nooses give;
    Gas smells awful;
    You might as well live.

  14. What a great outfit. I'm familiar with some of the poets you list but not all so I'll look them up. I think my favorite poet is e.e.cummings although there are lots of others that I like as well.


  15. Lovely! I adore the tuxedo blazer, and I really want to steal your shoes.

    I hate to admit this as a former English Literature major, but I'm having a rough time remembering favorite poems off the top of my head.

    Recently I was browsing through some of Mary Oliver's poetry - she was a poet my grandmother really loved, and this poem in particular really reminded me of the way my grandma lived and left her life.

    When Death Comes - Mary Oliver

    When death comes
    like the hungry bear in autumn;
    when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

    to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
    when death comes
    like the measle-pox

    when death comes
    like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

    I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
    what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

    And therefore I look upon everything
    as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
    and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
    and I consider eternity as another possibility,

    and I think of each life as a flower, as common
    as a field daisy, and as singular,

    and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
    tending, as all music does, toward silence,

    and each body a lion of courage, and something
    precious to the earth.

    When it's over, I want to say all my life
    I was a bride married to amazement.
    I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

    When it's over, I don't want to wonder
    if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

    I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
    or full of argument.

    I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.