MetaFilter posts tagged with dylanthomas

in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems

goodnewsfortheinsane — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 19:58:29 -0800

Should you find yourself wandering around the city of Leiden, the Netherlands sometime, you may notice some curious markings on the city's walls.

These Muurgedichten ("Wall Poems") adorn many of the town's streets (clickable map), and many English-language poets are represented: one John Keats, for instance, inside a bookshop; Dylan Thomas, E. E. Cummings, W.B. Yeats, some guy called William Shakespeare, or this ode to Charlie Parker by American William Waring Cuney. But poets of many other languages and nationalities can be found throughout the city. Just to name a few: Charles Baudelaire (French), Jorge Luis Borges (Spanish - Argentina), Herman Gorter (Dutch). And being native to this here neck of the woods I would be remiss if I were to neglect mentioning some of my favourites: apart from the Cummings one mentioned above, my hero of Dutch poetry J.C. Bloem's appropriately overgrown tribute to Paul Verlaine; and Guillaume Apollinaire's Dadaist/Surrealist "Loin du Pigeonnier" ("Far From the Dovecote"). Lastly, Muurgedichten collects manifestations of public poetry found elsewhere under its "Not in Leiden" heading. I couldn't resist a selection:

Humorous medical one in Brazil (Portuguese).

Martin Carter (Netherlands Antilles, English)

Excerpt from JFK's inaugural address (Boston, English)

Childrens Rights (Zanzibar, English)

Policemans Prayer (Virginia, US, English)

Short, brilliantly framed Byron quote (Utrecht, NL, English)

No man is illegal (Sittard, NL, Dutch)

I am a poet. Should I want the rose to bloom, the rose will bloom. (Vlaardigen, NL, Dutch)

You'll Think, What's That Poet Doing (Monnickendam, NL, Dutch) You'll think, what's that poet doing In our alley On our wall In our town When he's not from 'round here. To be frank: so do I. But still, now you're looking at me. I can talk to you, say That I am happy you're looking at me And then you might for instance say "likewise". We wouldn't have done so otherwise.

Dylan Thomas Poem Generator

fcummins — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 15:55:22 -0800

Dylan Thomas, the wonderful Welsh poet, has been mentioned on the blue before. Now the BBC provide a Dylan Thomas Random Poem Generator. Bravo! Bonus Dylan Thomas related goodies.

A reading of "A Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas

Brandon Blatcher — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 00:24:48 -0800

Audio of Dylan Thomas reading his poem "A Child's Christmas in Wales". (real media and mp3)

Rage, Rage, Ted

The Bellman — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 13:17:06 -0800

Being But Men. Every year around this time, this interstitial runs and I am reminded of the genius of Dylan Thomas and how much fun it must be to make interstitials for TNT. The text, for those who prefer not to get their culture from Ted Turner, follows: Being But Men Being but men, we walked into the trees Afraid, letting our syllables be soft For fear of waking the rooks, For fear of coming Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries. If we were children we might climb, Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig, And, after the soft ascent, Thrust out our heads above the branches To wonder at the unfailing stars. Out of confusion, as the way is, And the wonder, that man knows, Out of the chaos would come bliss. That, then, is loveliness, we said, Children in wonder watching the stars, Is the aim and the end. Being but men, we walked into the trees.

Dylan Thomas

carter — Fri, 07 Oct 2005 08:17:50 -0800

Llareggub! Dylan Thomas reading Dylan Thomas and host of others (Shakespeare, Milton, Yeats, Auden, Hardy, and more). 11 volumes of mp3s on Salon, reached after watching a Salon premium ad. [via boingboing]

Dylan Thomas - 50th Anniversary of the Poet's Death

madamjujujive — Wed, 18 Jun 2003 04:49:41 -0800

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
Fifty years ago, Dylan Thomas - one of the greatest poets of our time - drank himself to death in New York's Hotel Chelsea at the age of 39. Swansea, his Welsh hometown, will be commemorating his life all year, culminating in a festival in the fall. [more]