Thread: White Poet Society (Carpe diem)

Very nice.

There was a SF poetry thread, I think. One project: someday it would be nice, maybe, to organize and collect them and maybe sell them as a poetry book of white poetry with proceeds to go to a site or something or white charity, or even something like Ramzpaul's white school charity. Maybe through one of those print on demand venues or something. A nice bound book would be very nice and a nice gift for bf/gf.

Just a thought. Thanks for poem!

Not only my favorite poet, but my favorite White Nationalist poet, who I get to claim as one of my best friends, Ellin Anderson.

The Poetry of Ellin Anderson


WE WHO REFUSE TO DIE

Ellin Anderson


When the barn was filled with grain,
And the last stray lamb confined,
Did they light the lamp in vain
For children stricken mad and blind?

And when the hearth-glow struck the frost
On cabin walls, however bare,
Was that saffron splendor lost
On brittle hearts too cold to care?

No! because we see them still,
And flicker down the trails they trod;
Ply the loom that weaves our will
Within the web ordained by God,

And through the grace of men who chose
To march with musket, fife, and drum,
We still defy the herds that froze
To chains that kept them gorged and dumb.

I have lit the sparkling fuse,
Not to warm my feeble hands,
But to challenge: "Act or lose,"
For the one who understands

That with the font of golden flame
The smell of powder fills the air —Sweet myrrh to cleanse the sin of shame
From those who would not shirk to stare

And greet the void, with Washington,
And wear his greatcoat lined with stars,
Sky-woven, where life's thread is run
Beneath the sign and sword of Mars.

They did not strive through pain and doubt
For safety or for land alone,
To curse the soil in flood and drought,
To break the ploughshare on the stone;

And when we spurn the breathing death
Of those who live but will not fight,
We capture, with our final breath,
The lifeblood of eternal light.

Marloth Park

It is rare to find rock lyrics that stand alone as poetry. It is still more rare to find the sonic power of Led Zeppelin paired with the true beauty that derives from deep meaning -- and relevance.

Ocean Of Warriors

by Prussian Blue

As I look over yonder
What do I see?
I see the masses growing
Like a raging sea

Men and women of valor
Willing to die to reach Valhalla
What do I see up over there?
Today's stormtroopers
Ready for the dare

All I see in the distance
Is an ocean of warriors
Marching forward to battle
An ocean of warriors

Ready to kill
With a fist of steel
Ready to fight to cure
Our nation's ills
White resistance has risen
Freed from the bond of
This emotional prison

We fight for love
Not for hate
To banish the cowards
To Traitor's Gate

All I see in the distance
Is an ocean of warriors
Marching forward to battle
An ocean of warriors

Spirits are high
As standards they fly
In orderly files
Marching so proud
Mile after mile
Corps after corps they lead
And when it comes time to bleed
They're gonna know that
They did their best
For their nation's needs.

All I see in the distance
Is an ocean of warriors
Marching forward to battle
An ocean of warriors

R

A

I think I remember reading that one of Ellin Anderson's favorite poets is Walter de la Mare.

A good number of de la Mare's poems are available in the Gutenberg Project. I'd like to post a few. Here's one to start with.

CAPTAIN LEAN Walter de la Mare

Out of the East a hurricane
Swept down on Captain Lean—
That mariner and gentleman
Will ne'er again be seen.

He sailed his ship against the foes
Of his own country dear,
But now in the trough of the billows
An aimless course doth steer.

Powder was violets to his nostril,
Sweet the din of the fighting-line,
Now he is flotsam on the seas,
And his bones are bleached with brine.

The stars move up along the sky,
The moon she shines so bright,
And in that solitude the foam
Sparkles unearthly white.

This is the tomb of Captain Lean,
Would a straiter please his soul? I trow he sleeps in peace,
Howsoever the billows roll!

Here's another from Walter de la Mare. I'll look for a photograph of de la Mare to add in later. I found one photo that I posted in a Walter de la Mare thread that you can find here in our Great White Poets forum. This poem is from de la Mare's 1902 Songs of Childhood, which has forty-seven poems. The Gutenberg project online copy is here: http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/5/...-h/23545-h.htm

LULLABY

Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!
The singing mouse sings plaintively,
The sweet night-bird in the chesnut-tree—
They sing together, bird and mouse,
In starlight, in darkness, lonely, sweet,
The wild notes and the faint notes meet—
Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!

Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!
Amid the lilies floats the moth,
The mole along his galleries goeth
In the dark earth; the summer moon
Looks like a shepherd through the pane
Seeking his feeble lamb again—
Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!

Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!
Time comes to keep night-watch with thee
Nodding with roses; and the sea
Saith 'Peace! Peace!' amid his foam
White as thy night-clothes; 'O be still!'
The wind cries up the whisp'ring hill—
Sleep, sleep, lovely white soul!

A 1938 Photo of William Butler Yeats and Walter de la Mare

St. Patrick’s Day is approaching. Anyone who is lucky enough to see one of the parades on that day will most likely hear this favorite marching tune of Irish pipe bands: “The Minstrel Boy,” featuring lyrics by Thomas Moore (1779-1852).

Here are the lyrics, so you will be able to memorize them and sing along. The music is at this link:

http://www.contemplator.com/ireland/minstrel.html

The Minstrel Boy

The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you will find him;
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and brav'ry!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!"


http://www.ellinanderson.com/Wassail.html

As

Originally Posted by FL Patriot

Now you may ask, "what does all this have to do with a White Poet Society?" Everything, because when we started integrating schools, we lost our White Poets Society in our schools and traded them for young people being forced to think that African Rappers were some how more relevant to white people than Robert Frost.

Burlington youth wins state poetry contest | Burlington Free Press | burlingtonfreepress.com

"Poetry Out Loud builds on the rising interest in poetry as an oral art form, as seen in the slam poetry movement and the popularity of rap music....Contestants can choose poems from an extensive anthology."

Yes, but...young Mr. Mumbere did not win the recitation contest (not a poetry contest; that headline is misleading) by declaiming "Cop Killer." Instead:

"Mumbere recited 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night' by Dylan Thomas and Cornelius Eady's 'I'm a Fool to Love You' for his first two selections, but it was the delivery of his final poem, 'The Passionate Shepherd To His Love' by Christopher Marlowe that secured the title."

I am not sure why the author of the BFP article did not address this apparent contradiction. Perhaps Mr. Mumbere was limited to the poems included in the "extensive anthology," which, given current trends, might be enlarged to include 'poets' Ice T, Snoop Doggy Dog, Queen Latifa, Eminem et al. (if they are not in there already).

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

White, the flower, in the Goddesses hair.
Her lonely tears flow to her Earth’s children.
Upon this planet, her seeds are tumbling down the mountain's edge.
They rest gracefully on the lower path,
Where righteous feet travel back to Universal origins.

Archetypes ignite DNA strands saying,
"Remember you are White as the flower in the Goddesses hair."

A solemn thing – it was – I said –
A Woman – White – to be –
And wear – if God should count me fit –
Her blameless mystery –

Emily Dickinson, c. 1861

White and pure child-
Butterflies are ascending flowers.

Originally Posted by BluegrassLass

Very nice.

There was a SF poetry thread, I think.

Yes, they have a very active poetry section with multiple threads, and it's almost 170 pages long. We have a ways to go.

Do people still have favorite poems that they could post? I'm surprised no one has posted "The Congo" by Vachel Lindsay, part of which is 'performed' in the movie "Dead Poets Society."

81. Congo. Vachel Lindsay. Modern American Poetry

Writing your own poems is even more important.

Lyrical wind musical mist
Envelope the moon
Seduce the halo celestial kiss
And come home soon
You can't keep me trapped forever
Forever tied because my mind
Wants something even better
Forever free not forever bind