PODCAST · education
The Poetry Podcast
by Imposter Productions
poetry for all | art for all | arts education for all
Episodes
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Invocation to the Nightingale by Mary Hays
Wand’ring o’er the dewy meadow, Oft at ev’ning hour I go; Fondly courting Philomela’s Sympathetick plaints of woe. Sometimes, hush’d in still attention, Leaning pensive o’er a stile, Fancy bids her sound delusive Lull the yielding sense awhile. Soft the visionary musick, Rising floats upon the...
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Duke's Speech, As You Like It, William Shakespeare
Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's…
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L'abandonnee by Eliza Acton
They said, the words I lov'd to hear Were whisper'd in another's ear, With that sweet smile, and tender tone, With which thou mad'st my heart thine own, I listen'd to the torturing tale, With brow and cheek as marble pale; Yet nerv'd I then my woman's soul, Its deadliest feelings to controul, And...
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Annabel Lee By Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a…
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Sabrina Fair, John Milton's Comus
Sabrina fair Listen where thou art sitting [ 860 ] Under the glassie, cool, translucent wave, In twisted braids of Lillies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair, Listen for dear honours sake, Goddess of the silver lake, [ 865 ] Listen and save. Listen and appear to us In name of…
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A Little While by Emily Bronte
A little while, a little while, The weary task is put away, And I can sing and I can smile, Alike, while I have holiday. Why wilt thou go, my harassed heart, What thought, what scene invites thee now? What spot, or near or far, Has rest for thee, my weary brow? There is a spot, mid barren hills,...
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On Virtue by Phillis Wheatley
O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. I cease to wonder, and no more attempt Thine height t’explore, or fathom thy profound. But, O my soul, sink not into despair, Virtue is near thee, and with gentle hand Would...
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An Introduction to your Host + An Announcement
Hello — I’m Jessica, and welcome. This is a short audio hello and a little launch note: I’ve opened a Patreon for The Poetry Podcast.I’ve been making this show for about five years, and as a freelance artist I’ve had to step away from it periodically when life gets busy. Patreon is my way of…
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Uyghur Poetry Series: Notes by Ghojimuhemmed Muhemmed translated by Joshua L. Freeman
A home and a grave are two places to dwell One lies in shadow and one in the dark This world and the next, each one is a story The first one’s a lie, the second a myth Life and death are two riverbanks Not a drop of water left in the river translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman
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Uyghur Poetry Series: An Old World by Ghojimuhemmed Muhemmed translated by Joshua L. Freeman
Old wines are stronger by the day Old books sell higher by the day Old ideas grow holier by the day Old stories are newer by the day translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman
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Uyghur Poetry Series: Smoke by Imran Sada’i translated from by Joshua L. Freeman
When the smoke that rises in me smothers the world outside I sit on the shores of emptiness and watch my soul foaming red translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman
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Uyghur Poetry Series: Truth Is Seven Levels Under The Land Ghojimuhemmed Muhemmed
The sky where the birds of my mind can’t fly lies seven levels under the land Perhaps those birds saw there is no sky the more they flew the more they Days after the Urumqi riots translated from the Uyghur by Joshua L. Freeman
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Uyghur Poetry Series: The Stone Mirror by Tahir Hamut Izgil translated by Joshua L. Freeman
I saw you looking in the stone mirror before,dripping water, your idea was so close to me then.Today you tasted the winter wind, a bitter taste.The same depression, the same downcast features.Two drops of the black night, your eyes!You can’t imagine a homeland you’ve never seen.Where did you find...
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Uyghur Poetry Series: Common Night by Merdan Ehet'éli, translated by Joshua L. Freeman
This is a night made from words. This is a night poured into our spines like pig iron. This is a night that puts us up in slippers and in our bedrooms inside books. This is a night that makes our noses shed hellfruit leaves. This is a night for us to make merry with lovers in illusory castles.…
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Thirty-Eight. To Mrs ____y by Charlotte Smith
In early youth’s unclouded scene, The brilliant morning of eighteen, With health and sprightly joy elate, We gazed on youth’s enchanting spring, Nor thought how quickly time would bring The mournful period — thirty-eight! Then the starch maid, or matron sage, Already of the sober age, We viewed...
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Letter Eight, Excerpt, From Letters Written during a Short Residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark by Mary Wollstonecraft
Available for free on Archive.Org
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Psalm by John Coltrane
Psalm by John Coltrane I will do all I can to be worthy of Thee O Lord. It all has to do with it. Thank you God. Peace. There is none other. God is. It is so beautiful. Thank you God. God is all. Help us to resolve our fears and weaknesses. Thank you God. In You all things are possible. We know....
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Two Loves by Lord Alfred Douglas
I dreamed I stood upon a little hill, And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed Like a waste garden, flowering at its will With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed Black and unruffled; there were white lilies A few, and crocuses, and violets Purple or pale, snake-like…
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Evening Solace by Charlotte Brontë
The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed;— The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed. And days may pass in gay confusion, And nights in rosy riot fly, While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion, The memory of the Past…
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Ode to a Nightingale By John Keats
My heart aches, & a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, & Lethe-wards had sunk:'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In…
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Barbara Allen by Anonymous (17th century)
In Scarlet town, where I was born, There was a fair maid dwellin’, Made every youth cry Well-a-way! Her name was Barbara Allen. All in the merry month of May, When green buds they were swellin’, Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay, For love of Barbara Allen. He sent his man in to her then, To...
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On the Death of Anne Brontë by Charlotte Brontë
There's little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I 've lived the parting hour to see Of one I would have died to save. Calmly to watch the failing breath, Wishing each sigh might be the last; Longing to see the shade of death O'er those belovèd features cast. The cloud, the...
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The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross translated by David Lewis
I. In a dark night, With anxious love inflamed, O, happy lot! Forth unobserved I went, My house being now at rest. II. In darkness and in safety, By the secret ladder, disguised, O, happy lot! In darkness and concealment, My house being now at rest. III. In that happy night, In secret, seen of...
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Hope by Emily Brontë
Hope was but a timid friend- She sat without my grated den Watching how my fate would tend Even as selfish-hearted men. She was cruel in her fear. Through the bars, one dreary day, I looked out to see her there And she turned her face away! Like a false guard false watch keeping Still in strife…
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experimental: O Me! O Life! By Walt Whitman
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle…
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O Me! O Life! by Walt Whitman
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle…
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Love Letters: Oscar Wilde to Lord Alfred Bosie Douglas
My dearest boy, This is to assure you of my immortal, my eternal love for you. Tomorrow all will be over. If prison and dishonour be my destiny, think that my love for you and this idea, this still more divine belief, that you love me in return will sustain me in my unhappiness and will make me...
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Love Letters: Emily Dickinson to Susan Gilbert
I have but one thought, Susie, this afternoon of June, and that of you, and I have one prayer, only; dear Susie, that is for you. That you and I in hand as we e’en do in heart, might ramble away as children, among the woods and fields, and forget these many years, and these sorrowing cares, and...
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Love Letters: Napoleon Bonaparte to Josephine
I got your letter, my beloved; it has filled my heart with joy. I am grateful to you for the trouble you have taken to send me news; your health should be better to-day—I am sure you are cured. I urge you strongly to ride, which cannot fail to do you good. Ever since I left you, I have been sad.…
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Love Letters: Gustave Flaubert to Louise Colet
The sky is clear, the moon is shining. I hear sailors singing as they raise anchor, preparing to leave with the oncoming tide. No clouds, no wind. The river is white under the moon, black in the shadows. Moths are playing around my candles, and the scent of the night comes to me through my open...
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Making Life Worthwhile by George Eliot
Making Life Worthwhile by George Eliot Every soul that touches yours – Be it the slightest contact– Get there from some good; Some little grace; one kindly thought; One aspiration yet unfelt; One bit of courage For the darkening sky; One gleam of faith To brave the thickening ills of life; One...
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Revenge By Eliza Acton
Revenge by Eliza Acton I would not, in the wildness of revenge, Give poison to mine enemy, nor strike My dagger to his heart, but I would plant Love--burning--hopeless--and unquenchable-- Within the inmost foldings of his breast, And bid him die the dark, and ling'ring death, Of the pale victims,...
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Written on the Banks of the Arun by Charlotte Smith
When latest autumn spreads her evening veil, And the gray mists from these dim waves arise, I love to listen to the hollow sighs Through the half leafless wood that breathes the gale. For at such hours the shadowy phantom pale, Oft seems to fleet before the poet's eyes; Strange sounds are heard,...
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Letter VI (excerpt) from Letters written during a short residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark by Mary Wollstonecraft
LETTER VI (excerpt) from Letters written during a short residence in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark by Mary Wollstonecraft Nature is the nurse of sentiment, the true source of taste; yet what misery, as well as rapture, is produced by a quick perception of the beautiful and sublime when it is...
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Immortal Beloved by Ludwig van Beethoven
Good morning, Even in bed my ideas yearn towards you, my Immortal Beloved, here and there joyfully, then again sadly, awaiting from Fate, whether it will listen to us. I can only live, either altogether with you or not at all. Yes, I have determined to wander about for so long far away, until I…
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SPECIAL EPISODE: A Poet’s Advice to Students by ee cummings
A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.This may sound easy. It isn’t.A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or thinking.Almost anybody can...
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Winter Stars by Sara Teasdale
Winter Stars BY SARA TEASDALE I went out at night alone; The young blood flowing beyond the sea Seemed to have drenched my spirit’s wings— I bore my sorrow heavily. But when I lifted up my head From shadows shaken on the snow, I saw Orion in the east Burn steadily as long ago. From windows in my...
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To The Moon by Percy Bysshe Shelley
To the Moon BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY I Art thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, Wandering companionless Among the stars that have a different birth, — And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy? II Thou chosen sister of the Spirit,...
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HOME (from "Toasts: For All Occasions" compiled by E.C. Lewis )
HOME: "The place where you are treated best and grumble most. Here’s a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate; And whatever sky’s above me, Here’s a heart for every fate. Were’t the last drop in the well, As I gasped upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell, ’Tis to thee that…
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The Ballad of Reading Gaol Oscar Wilde (excerpt)
The Ballad of Reading GaolBY OSCAR WILDEIHe did not wear his scarlet coat,For blood and wine are red,And blood and wine were on his handsWhen they found him with the dead,The poor dead woman whom he loved,And murdered in her bed.He walked amongst the Trial MenIn a suit of shabby gray;A cricket…
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People At Night by Rainer Maria Rilke
People at NightBy Rainer Maria Rilke (1875–1926) The Nights were not made for crowds, and they severYou from your neighbour, and you shall neverSeek him, defiantly, at night.But if you make your dark house light,To look on strangers in your room,You must reflect—on whom. False lights that on…
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Endymion by John Keats
Endymion BY JOHN KEATS (1795–1821) A Poetic Romance (excerpt) BOOK A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every...
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Song Of Myself, 4 by Walt Whitman
Song of Myself, 4by Walt Whitman (1819-1892)Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation, The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new, My dinner, dress, associates, looks…
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Ashes Of Life by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Ashes of LifeBY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY (1892–1950)Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike;Eat I must, and sleep I will, — and would that night were here!But ah! — to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!Would that it were day again! — with twilight near!Love has gone and left me...
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The Walrus And The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll
The Walrus and the CarpenterBY LEWIS CARROLL (1832–1898)'The sun was shining on the sea,Shining with all his might:He did his very best to makeThe billows smooth and bright —And this was odd, because it wasThe middle of the night.The moon was shining sulkily,Because she thought the sunHad got no...
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The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
The New ColossusBY EMMA LAZARUS (1849–1887)Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,With conquering limbs astride from land to land;Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall standA mighty woman with a torch, whose flameIs the imprisoned lightning, and her nameMother of Exiles. From her...
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Grief by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
GriefBY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING (1806–1861) I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;That only men incredulous of despair,Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight airBeat upward to God’s throne in loud accessOf shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,In souls as countries, lieth...
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The Second Coming by WB Yeats
The Second ComingBy William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)Turning and turning in the widening gyreThe falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhereThe ceremony of innocence is drowned;The...
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A Thousand Martyrs by Aphra Behn
A Thousand Martyrs by Aphra Behn (1640–1689)A thousand martyrs I have made,All sacrificed to my desire;A thousand beauties have betrayed,That languish in resistless fire.The untamed heart to hand I brought,And fixed the wild and wandering thought.I never vowed nor sighed in vainBut both, though...
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On Death by John Keats
On Death by John Keats 1795-1821Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?The transient pleasures as a vision seem,And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.How strange it is that man on earth should roam,And lead a life of woe, but not forsakeHis...
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ABOUT THIS SHOW
poetry for all | art for all | arts education for all
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Imposter Productions
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poetry for all | art for all | arts education for all
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