#Bliss Carman

[dabiconcordia]

In Gold Lacquer

Gold are the great trees overhead, And gold the leaf-strewn grass, As though a cloth of gold were spread To let a seraph pass. And where the pageant should go by, Meadow and wood and stream, The world is all of lacquered gold, Expectant as a dream. by Bliss Carman

[canadachronicles]

"ALL day long beneath the sun Shining through the fields they run, Singing in a cadence known To the seraphs round the throne. And the traveller drawing near Through the meadow, halts to hear Anthems of a natural joy No disaster can destroy. All night long from set of sun Through the starry woods they run, Singing through the purple dark Songs to make a traveller hark. All night long, when winds are low, Underneath my window go The immortal happy streams, Making music through my dreams."

--Summer Streams, Bliss Carman

[fixomnia-scribble]

[thebotanicalarcade]

[otherworldseekers]

Lo, now, the journeying sun, Another day's march done, Kindles his campfire at the edge of night! ~Bliss Carman

Auraugust Day 31: Golden

These golden days of traveling Tural together will always be special in their memory.

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Lavender and Starflower (Mobster AU) - Chapter 3

The Dekarios Clan reigns over Waterdeep as the city’s protector for centuries. Suddenly, the Clan gets challenged by Cazador, the head of the Szarr Clan that rules over Baldur’s Gate. Of course, such an attack won’t be tolerated and the intruder must be forced back and out of the City of Splendors. While fixing destroyed protection sigils, Gale, wizard prodigy and heir of the Dekarios Clan, meets a charming stranger called Astarion. And Gale makes the biggest mistake of his life; he invites the pale elf into his home.

Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, graphic description of violence, non-con/rape, smut, angst, emotional rollercoaster, mobster AU

I was inspired to start writing this fic when I saw this artwork by @arczism

The poems are my own, but inspired by "The Heart of the Night" and "The Starry Midnight Whispers" by Bliss Carman. The names of the fictional poets are parodies of the aforementioned author.

This is obviously an AU that isn't related to my other work.

When Gale woke up the next morning, Astarion's gone. He had expected it in a way, but he still couldn't help but feel bitterly disappointed. Grumpily, the wizard left the bed, running his fingers through his hair. He felt sticky and gross and in dire need of a bath. Just as he reached the bathroom door, it was opened and Gale was face-to-face with Astarion.

"Good morning, darling. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your things," lilted the vampire spawn.

"Not at all," muttered the wizard. He was pleasantly surprised that Astarion was still here.

"Is it alright if I take a bath now?" he asked.

"Of course, darling. Go on."

The elf waved his hand elegantly towards the bathroom and indicated to walk away, before he seemed to remember something and turned towards Gale again.

"I almost forgot," he purred and locked lips with the wizard. The latter sighed into the kiss, savouring every second of it, but at the same time, he noticed that Astarion was on his tiptoes and thus, a bit shorter than him. The vampire spawn was the first to take a step back and vanish into the bedroom with a smirk and a flirty wink. Gale felt dizzy as he entered the steam-filled bathroom to get clean. With a snap of his fingers, the tub started to fill up by itself while Gale used the latrine and, afterwards, added some lavender oil to the bathwater. He sunk into the tub with a deep sigh and tried to relax, but his thoughts were orbiting around his last night’s playmate too much to find peace. Thus, Gale started to wash himself and shampooed his hair. He rinsed off quickly, wrapped himself in a towel, and tidied up the bathroom with a muttered spell. The wizard went back to the bedroom to grab some fresh clothes. He paused when he saw Astarion lounging in the bed, lolling around like Tara in front of the fireplace during the colder months. The vampire spawn smirked at him.

"Do you like what you see, darling? Just say 'please' and you'll get another taste."

Gale considered it. On the one hand, it was tempting to go back to bed, but on the other hand, they needed to talk.

Why must you always be boring? rebuked his mind. Astarion will leave soon and he doesn't seem like the type who comes back for seconds. This is your last chance to have sex with him again.

"Shut up," grumbled Gale moodily. Astarion raised an eyebrow.

"Are you talking to me?"

"No, my brain. It's thinking too loudly."

At that, the elf snickered amused.

"You're one of a kind, Gale of Waterdeep. I've never met anyone like you before."

"Same goes for you," smiled the addressed.

"Naturally," teased Astarion and winked again.

Gale took a deep breath and licked his lips nervously.

"Would you... would you like a repetition of last night?" he asked shyly and the vampire spawn grinned widely.

"Darling, nothing would bring me more pleasure." Astarion spread his long, skinny legs to put himself on display again. He teased himself with his elegant fingers and purred: "Come and take what you want."

"I only take what's offered," replied Gale, but moved closer nonetheless. He gazed at the elf for a moment, running his hand along Astarion's leg. "Gods, you're beautiful."

"Thank you. So are you, darling. Now, come here."

The vampire spawn pulled the wizard into a passionate kiss and hooked a leg around the latter's waist. Gale started to leave a trail of kisses down Astarion's neck and collarbone. Carefully, he guided the elf onto his back, his lips never leaving Astarion's cool skin.

"I want to worship you," Gale revealed. "I want to give you what you deserve."

"I – What I deserve is –"

"Everything. You deserve everything, Astarion."

The addressed opened his mouth to object, but he stayed silent when Gale bent down to kiss his sternum.

"You are... one of a kind, Gale of Waterdeep," mumbled the vampire spawn again and sighed when the wizard's hot tongue lapped across his hipbone.

Gale hummed and instead of a verbal reply, he started worshipping Astarion's body. Kissing and licking every part of it. Showing him how precious he was and how much he meant to the wizard. The vampire spawn smelled like Gale's lavender soap, his own perfume long gone. The human wizard blew him while fingering him open, and Astarion moaned blissfully, his fingers digging into the pillow his head was resting on.

It was too much. Too gentle. Too... loving. Astarion started to squirm as his vision blurred with tears. With a sharp cry, his body betrayed him and he climaxed, spilling down Gale's willing throat who swallowed eagerly.

"Off," Astarion groaned. "Please. No more."

Gale complied immediately, letting go of him and lying down next to him. Why was the wizard so considerate? Why did he treat him so gently, like something valuable? Astarion screwed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He panted, even though it was unnecessary, and by doing so, he inhaled the wizard's scent. Lavender, cedarwood, and sandalwood. Gods... how intoxicating... Astarion turned slightly to kiss Gale. The latter rolled on top of him and lifted up the elf's legs to make himself comfortable between them. Astarion tensed. Gale detected a mixture of panic and fear crossing the vampire spawn's face, thus, he simply leaned over him to place a kiss on his forehead. Then, the wizard got off of him again and lay down instead. With a small smile, Gale patted his own thigh as an invitation. Astarion blinked, visibly confused about the wizard's choice, but then, he moved, climbing into Gale's lap. The haughty, self-assured smirk was back in place as Astarion took a hold of the wizard's erection and sat down on it. The latter sighed happily. As Gale pulled the elf into another passionate kiss, his hands wrapped around his partner's back. He felt raised skin there. Scars. Covering Astarion's entire back. Carefully, the wizard started to trace them with his fingers. Were those letters?

"No!" Astarion shot up, grabbing Gale's wrists tightly. "Don't touch me there!"

The addressed nodded silently and settled his hands on the vampire spawn's thighs instead. The latter seemed tense and there was that panic and fear in his eyes again. Astarion straightened up, closed his eyes, and started to move. He lifted his hips up, then down, then added that wicked slow pointed roll. Up, down, roll. Up, down, roll. Gale groaned as his eyes rolled back in his head. Meanwhile, Astarion was moaning lewdly, but he seemed miles away. The wizard planted his feet on the mattress and thrusted upwards into the vampire spawn, causing the latter to lose his balance and fall forwards. Gasping, Astarion's eyes flew open and he caught himself on Gale's chest. He gazed at the wizard from beneath heavy eyelids while Gale took control of their coupling.

"Talk to me," implored Astarion suddenly. "I want to hear your voice. Please, anything. Just… talk."

So, Gale did. He cited the first poem that came to his mind as he watched the elf's pale skin, silver-white curls, and ruby-red eyes.

"'Pale is the moon, bright are the stars in the sky.

I stand in speechless awe, while beauty marches by.

And even though beauty is in the beholder's eye,

the night's eternal beauty almost makes me cry.'"

"Triss Carmen, Elven poet, propensity to melancholy," panted Astarion. "Beautifully recited, darling." He moaned as Gale changed the angle slightly to hit his prostate dead on. "Don't stop. Keep... keep going."

"'In the face of the universe and the creation's blast,

I am insignificant in all that world-sown vast,

no matter my impact, not matter what spell I cast,

I can only hope and dream that my dream will last.'"

"Keep talking... Gods, please... Gale..."

The addressed could hear Astarion's voice break.

Gale had no idea what the vampire spawn had gone through - who'd hurt him - but it was nothing pleasant, that's for sure. If it had been up to him, they would have stopped immediately, but Astarion was in charge, thus, Gale kept moving – and talking.

"'Again, I muse before the fire

about the embers of desire

and life's logic and meaning

and emotions, love and feeling.

But explanations; there's none to see,

thus, I will follow where love leads me.'"

Mewling, Astarion climaxed and shook apart, and Gale caught him as he collapsed onto him, wrapping his arms around him. The wizard placed a gentle kiss on top of the white curls and held the trembling vampire spawn close, and even though he felt the wetness on his bare chest, he didn't mention it.

"Blyth Cutter, philosophical and talented, but died too young," muttered Astarion after a while, and Gale chuckled at the elf's stubborn replies.

"I hope you'll keep doing that."

"Keep doing what, darling?"

"Telling me who wrote the poems I quote. It shows your knowledge and interest and I... well, I like that."

Now, it was Astarion's turn to chuckle.

"Of course, that aroused you. I should have known." He stroke a hand over Gale's hairy chest before he added: "I'll keep doing it, I promise."

"Thank you," said the wizard and kissed the vampire spawn's hair again. After a long pause, he asked: "Why do you have Infernal written on your back?"

[olympic-paris]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …

August 7

1843 – A pioneering California writer, Charles Warren Stoddard (d.1909), is best known for his homoerotic tales collected as South-Sea Idyls and The Island of Tranquil Delights.

Stoddard was born in Rochester, New York, on August 7, 1843, second son to Sarah Freeman and Samuel Burr Stoddard, a paper merchant. As their fortunes declined during the next decade, the family moved about upstate New York and then left for San Francisco in 1854. Although Stoddard subsequently returned East for two years to live with his grandparents, he regarded himself as a Californian, and his first poems were published, under the pseudonym "Pip Pepperpod," in the Golden Era.

During the 1860s, after he had quit school and dedicated himself to a literary career, Stoddard joined San Francisco's journalistic and Bohemian circles, and he established enduring relationships with Ambrose Bierce, Ina Coolbrith, Bret Harte, and Samuel Clemens. Beloved for his wit and amiability, Stoddard had a genius for friendship; his large literary acquaintance ultimately included both contemporary and younger writers, such as Robert Louis Stevenson, W. D. Howells, Henry Adams, Joaquin Miller, Jack London, George Sterling, Bliss Carman, Yone Noguchi, and George Cabot Lodge.

Stoddard was also connected to the developing gay networks of the nineteenth century through his friendships with Theodore F. Dwight and Dewitt Miller.

In 1864 he visited the South Sea Islands and from there wrote his Idyls — letters which he sent to a friend who had them published in book form as South Sea Idylls. He made four other trips to the South Sea Islands, and gave his impressions in Lazy Letters from Low Latitudes and The Island of Tranquil Delights. Inspired to sexual self-awareness by reading Whitman's "Calamus" poems, Stoddard gained his first experience with the natives of Hawaii and Tahiti, about whom he wrote his best stories, those collected in South-Sea Idyls (1874, 1892) and The Island of Tranquil Delights (1904). The subtle eroticism of Stoddard's tropical tales was evidently lost on his audience — except for "Xavier Mayne" (Edward Prime-Stevenson), who noted their significance in The Intersexes (1908).

Stoddard in Hawaii 1901

Readers were also mystified by Stoddard's only novel, For the Pleasure of His Company (1903), an (unsuccessfully) experimental work of gay fiction.

Raised a Protestant, Stoddard converted to Roman Catholicism soon after the appearance of his Poems in 1867. Stoddard remained devout in his faith – among his most popular books was a spiritual autobiography, A Troubled Heart (1885) – and he cherished the companionship of priests, including Father Damien, missionary to the lepers of Molokai.

As a respected man of letters, Stoddard was recruited to academic positions at prominent Catholic institutions: Notre Dame, where he clashed with colleagues over his attentions to the male students and resigned after three semesters; and the Catholic University of America, where he taught from 1889 to 1901.

Stoddard fell in love with the painter Frank Millet during the 1870s and lived with him in Venice. But he usually favored youthful companions. Of his several "kids," as he called them, the most important was Kenneth O'Connor, aged fifteen in 1895, when Stoddard unofficially adopted him and took him home to his Washington "Bungalow."

In 1903, his health failing and his relationship with Kenneth deteriorating, Stoddard returned to California. After a triumphal visit to San Francisco, where he was feted as a pioneering California writer, he settled in Monterey, where he died of a heart attack on April 23, 1909. Stoddard's modest literary reputation had already faded before his collected Poems appeared posthumously in 1917. The gayest of the island stories have been collected in Cruising the South Seas (1987).

1911 – Nicholas Ray (born Raymond Nicholas Kienzle) (d.1979) was an American film director. Coming from a radio background, Ray directed his first and only Broadway production, the Duke Ellington musical Beggar's Holiday, in 1946. One year later, he directed his first film, They Live By Night. It was released two years later due to the chaotic conditions surrounding Howard Hughes' takeover of RKO Pictures. An almost impressionistic, tender take on film noir, it was notable for its extreme empathy for society's young outsiders (a recurring motif in Ray's films). It was influential in the sporadically popular sub-genre often called 'love on the run' movies, concerning as it does two young fugitive lovers on the run from the law. (Other examples are Gun Crazy, Bonnie and Clyde, Badlands, and Robert Altman's 70's remake of They Live By Night: Thieves Like Us.)

Ray made several more contributions to the film noir genre, most notably the Humphrey Bogart movie In A Lonely Place about a troubled screenwriter, and On Dangerous Ground, a powerful police thriller. The former is noted for featuring one of Bogart's most complex performances.

Ray's most productive and successful period was the 1950s, although his sympathy for society's outsiders and rebels clearly pre-dated the 1960s counter-culture. It was in the mid-50s that he made the two films for which he is best remembered. Johnny Guitar (1954) was an influential, proto-feminist western much loved by French critics (Fran̤ois Truffaut called it 'the beauty and the beast' of the western).

In 1955, however, Ray directed the iconic Rebel Without a Cause. Its legendary status had much to do with its star James Dean, whose premature death followed soon after the film's completion. Looking past its main attraction these days as a vehicle for the poster boy of a generation, Rebel Without a Cause distilled much of the essence of Ray's cinematic vision: expressionistic use of colour, dramatic use of architecture and an empathy for those who struggle to fit in to mainstream society.

Nicholas Ray directing Natalie Wood & James Dean

Ray also made many other films in multiple genres which, although made with professionalism and flair, were comparatively minor works, often suffering from unwanted studio interference.

A bisexual and heavy user of drugs and alcohol, Ray found himself increasingly shut out of the Hollywood film industry in the early 1960s. After collapsing on the set of 55 Days at Peking (1963), he would not direct again until the mid-1970s.

Ray deserves to be acknowledged as an important figure in queer cultural history, partly because of his own bisexuality but primarily because of the queer perspectives in his films. Although the case for Ray's bisexuality is overwhelming, some friends and family members have attempted to deny it. Ray's mentor, director Elia Kazan; his fourth wife, Susan Ray; and other close friends and family members are among those who have insisted upon Ray's heterosexuality. However, another close personal friend and professional collaborator, John Houseman, noted Ray's sexual interest in other men. In his memoirs, Housman described Ray as "a potential homosexual with a deep, passionate and constant need for female love." In his recent book on gay men and lesbians in Hollywood, William J. Mann also characterized Ray as a deeply closeted homosexual. Because homosexuality was strictly illegal in the United States during the early and mid-twentieth century, it is difficult to find definitive proof of homosexual behavior by prominent Americans of the era. Nevertheless, throughout Ray's adult life, there were widespread rumors concerning his bisexuality. For example, many of his associates, including actor Farley Granger and writer Gore Vidal, who resided at the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood while Ray lived there during the mid-1950s, claimed that he simultaneously conducted affairs with Sal Mineo, James Dean, and Natalie Wood during the filming of Rebel without a Cause.

The fullest published documentation of Ray's bisexuality is provided by Gavin Lambert in Mainly about Lindsay Anderson (2000). Lambert met Ray in February 1956, while he was in England, publicizing Rebel without a Cause. In the midst of seducing Lambert the night that they met, Ray declared to him that he was not really homosexual or even bisexual because he had slept with more women than men. Nevertheless, Lambert was literally swept off his feet by Ray's passion and accepted his invitation to follow him back to the United States. Ray secured employment for Lambert at Twentieth Century-Fox as a screenwriter and production assistant, and he also used his influence to expedite the processing of a visa and work permit. Arriving in Hollywood in March 1956, Lambert lived with Ray at the Chateau Marmont until November. Lambert characterized Ray as an erratic but very possessive lover. In November, Lambert ended their affair because he had wearied of Ray's alcoholism and his tendency to ignore him for extended periods while entertaining a seemingly endless stream of starlets.

From 1971 to 1973, Ray taught film making at Harpur College (part of the State University of New York) where he and his students produced We Can't Go Home Again, an ambitious autobiographical film employing split-screen images. An early version of the film was shown at the Cannes Film Festival in 1973, but Ray, never satisfied with the project, continued editing it until his death in 1979. He died of lung cancer on June 16, 1979 at the age of 67 in New York City, New York.

Undoubtedly, the most famous line from any film by Ray is Johnny Guitar's declaration: "I am a stranger here myself." That line describes Ray's own attitude to the world, as well as the situation of the protagonists in his films. In movies such as Johnny Guitar and Rebel without a Cause, he depicted outsiders who challenged dominant social and gender conventions and who continue to inspire queer viewers in the early twenty-first century.

1963 – William J. Mann is an American novelist, biographer, and Hollywood historian best known for his 2006 biography of Katharine Hepburn, Kate: The Woman Who Was Hepburn. Kate was named one of the 100 Notable Books of 2006 by The New York Times.

Mann was born in Connecticut and, after working briefly as a Capitol Hill aide, received his Master's degree at Wesleyan University.

He worked as a journalist at Metroline magazine, New England's oldest gay publication, from 1992 to 1995. Mann published his first novel, The Men From the Boys, in 1997, and continued with a series of books set in Provincetown, although he has also set his fiction in Palm Springs and Los Angeles. In addition, Mann has written the nonfiction books Wisecracker: The Life and Times of William Haines, Hollywood's First Openly Gay Star (1998), a biography of film star Billy Haines, for which he won the Lambda Literary Award; Behind the Screen: How Gays and Lesbians Shaped Hollywood (2001); and Edge of Midnight: The Life of John Schlesinger (2005).

Kate didn't quite get the widespread attention it deserved because the mainstream didn't want to hear their icon was primarily a lesbian and her endlessly hyped romance with Spencer Tracy was cover for their separate same-sex adventures.

Mann's five novels are: The Men from the Boys, The Biograph Girl, Where The Boys Are, All American Boy, and Object of Desire.

1975 – Kristian Eivind Espedal, better known by his stage name Gaahl, is a Norwegian vocalist, best known as the former frontman of Norwegian black metal band Gorgoroth. He is also the founder and frontman of Trelldom and Gaahlskagg. As of 2008, he has been involved in other projects such as Wardruna.

In July 2008, Gaahl revealed in an online interview that he was involved in the creation of Wynjo, an upcoming fashion collection for women, together with Norwegian modeling agent Dan De Vero and designer Sonja Wu. At the same time, it was also revealed that he and De Vero had a "close relationship" since 2006. It was stated that they were no longer a couple but remained as good friends. In an interview for the November 2008 issue of Rock Hard, Gaahl confirmed his homosexuality.

Shortly thereafter, De Vero stated that he had received threats from various black metal fans, both at his door and by phone and email. It was also alleged that a fight had erupted backstage at Wacken Open Air, triggered by homophobic remarks. Allegedly, the person who made the remarks had to be hospitalised. However, Gaahl denied that anyone had ever "said anything derogatory" to him in person.

When asked by the webzine FaceCulture if he thinks people will see him and his music differently now that he has publicly acknowledged his homosexuality, Gaahl replied:

Mankind is known to be narrow-minded, so... maybe some [will have a negative reaction]. But I guess it will even out the score in a way. I think it will be positive for some and negative for some. It's always good to have some negative as well. Otherwise you would end up with equality and equality is the worst thing in the world. Equality is stagnation. It doesn't let anything grow. It holds back.

On 27 January 2010, Gaahl won the award "gay person of the year" in Bergen at the event "Bergen Gay Galla". He was present and accepted the award

1981 – David Testo, born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, is an American soccer player. He has played for the Vancouver Whitecaps and the Montreal Impact. He is one of the few openly homosexual athletes in professional sports.

He signed with the Vancouver Whitecaps in 2006. Despite missing several games due to serious injuries in mid-season with the Whitecaps, Dave's quick pivots and brilliant touch passes made him a favourite among fans and teammates in this his first season in Vancouver. He was named Newcomer of the Year and was second in team scoring (7 goals, 7 assists) behind Joey Gjertsen (13 goals, 7 assists) while playing both as a striker and in his preferred midfield positions equally well.

Testo was traded to the Montreal Impact on July 26, 2007 along with Joey Gjertsen for Alen Marcina, and Zé Roberto. He recorded his first goal for Montreal on August 1, 2007 against Carolina Railhawks. During the 2008 USL season Testo played in 20 matches for the Impact, and scored one goal against Miami FC on July 18, 2008. In the 2008 Canadian Championship he appeared in all four matches for the Impact, and scored a goal in 2-0 victory over the Vancouver Whitecaps.

On November 30, 2009 Testo signed a new two-year deal with the club. Testo was released by Montreal on October 12, 2011.

In an interview on with the French Canadian division of Radio Canada that was published on November 10, 2011, Testo stated that he is gay and that his family, friends, teammates, and team management knew of his homosexuality. Since coming out, former teamates have expressed support and respect for Testo.

He says, however, he regrets not going public until now: "It's hard, like living the life of a professional athlete and being gay is incredibly hard," the athlete told the media. "It's like carrying around a secret, you know, and carrying around luggage and just never being allowed to be yourself."

Testo is a member of the Advisory Board for You Can Play, a campaign dedicated to fighting homophobia in sports.

1983 – Christian Chávez is a singer and actor best known for his role as Giovanni Méndez López in the telenovela Rebelde and its spin off pop group RBD. Since 2007 he has been open about his homosexuality.

In early March 2007, a magazine published pictures of Chávez signing documents and exchanging rings with another man, allegedly his Canadian boyfriend (and later identified as B.J. Murphy), outing Chávez with them. The pictures had been taken in 2005, the year in which gay marriages became legal in Canada. Chávez declared in March 2007, that the photos showed a part of him that he had not been willing to discuss previously.

On 30 March 2007, after Chávez's announcement of being gay, Ricky Martín told The Associated Press of his solidarity with Chávez's public declaration, saying, "Life is too short to live closed up, guarding what you say...(Chávez) has to be free in many aspects. I wish him much strength." It took Ricky Martin another 3 years to come out himself.

Though Chávez is outspoken in supporting gay rights and opposing homophobia, he has said that he does not want to be seen as only a representative of the gay community. However, in June 2008, he appeared in the front page of a new Mexican gay magazine, OHM, where he exposed a more relaxed and mature position about those subjects in an interview. Chávez remains one of only a handful of openly gay Latin recording artists.In 2009, Chávez confirmed divorcing his husband. The reason for their separation has been the subject of much speculation, but Chávez insists that their relationship did not end on bad terms: "[Murphy] is a person I love and respect; I also admire him as a professional."

1987 – Over 100 gay men and lesbians gather at Piccadilly Square in London for a kiss-in to protest at Piccadilly Circus in defiance of the Sexual Offences Act, which decriminalized private sex acts between consenting adults but left public displays of same-sex affection a misdemeanor.

[santoschristos]

'Then, enraptured, you shall hear Secrets for a poet's ear. Mortal, mortal, come with me, When the moon is rising large, Through the wood or from the sea, Or by some lone river marge.' ~Bliss Carman 'Harmony in the Light of the Moon' by Sarah Stilwell Weber

[canadachronicles]

"Over the wintry threshold Who comes with joy today, So frail, yet so enduring, To triumph o'er dismay? Ah, quick her tears are springing, And quickly they are dried, For sorrow walks before her, But gladness walks beside. She comes with gusts of laughter, -- The music as it rills; With tenderness and sweetness, The wisdom of the hills. Her hands are strong to comfort, Her heart is quick to heed; She knows the signs of sadness, She knows the voice of need; There is no living creature, However poor or small, But she will know its trouble, And hearken to its call. Oh, well they fare forever, By mighty dreams possessed, Whose hearts have lain a moment On that eternal breast."

Over The Wintry Threshold, Bliss Carman

[dontaskmeforprophecies]

O but my delicate lover,

Is she not fair as the moonlight?

Is she not supple and strong

For hurried passion?

Has not the god of the green world,

In his large tolerant wisdom,

Filled with the ardours of earth

Her twenty summers?

Well did he make her for loving;

Well did he mould her for beauty;

Gave her the wish that is brave

With understanding.

“O Pan, avert from his maiden

Sorrow, misfortune, bereavement,

Harm, and unhappy regret,”

Prays one fond mortal.

(“O but my delicate lover,” Sappho, around 6th cent. BC, translation Bliss Carman.)

Happy pride month to all of my queer friends out there!! Here is a poem from one of my favorite lyrical poets, Sappho. <3

[septembersung]

What's your favourite month (poetry ask game)

Selections From: When the Frost is on the Punkin by James Whitcomb Riley ; Keats, To Autumn ; A Vagabond Song by William Carman Bliss

[silmsmutweek]

Day 7: Sea (War of Wrath)

Daily prompts are never obligatory. How to use prompts.

Prompts/Suggestions

Femslash 

Alternate Universe 

Friends with benefits

Word of the Day

roil

Inspirations of the Day

Like the torn sea-kelp in the drift Of the great tides of the sea, Carried past the harbour-mouth To the deep beyond return, I am buoyed and borne away On the loveliness of earth, Little caring, save for thee, Past the portals of the night. Poem XLVII, Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics by Bliss Carman (1906)

Image prompt below the cut!

Photo by Rivunk, Pexels

[otherworldseekers]

Lord of morning, light of day, Sacred color-kindling sun, We salute thee in the way,— Pilgrims robed in rose and dun.' At thy summons we arise, At thy touch put glory on, And with glad unanxious eyes Take the journey thou hast gone. ~Bliss Carman

Nero as god of the sun.

[ancestorsalive]

Frances Benjamin Johnston, holding cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. Washington, D.C., in 1896. (She was an accomplished photographer and you guys have seen a lot of them on this page. I have to start crediting the photographers more often…)

In this self-portrait the photographer Frances Benjamin Johnston poses as an independent 'new woman.' On the mantlepiece are six portraits she took of men (from left to right): poet Bliss Carman; A. N. Brown, likely the librarian at the U.S. Naval Academy; Henry Guston Rogers, likely the inventor and playwright Henry Gustave Rogers; architect James Rush Marshall; Smithsonian librarian Frank Phister; and L. M. McCormick, a photographer and member of the Capital Camera Club.

From the Library of Congress

https://www.loc.gov/item/98502934/

[mindless23]

There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood —

Touch of manner, hint of mood;

And my heart is like a rhyme,

With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry

Of bugles going by.

And my lonely spirit thrills

To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;

We must rise and follow her,

When from every hill of flame

She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

— Bliss Carman, A Vagabond Song (1895)

[midnightfestivalmagic]

Bliss Carman, "In October"