My Favorite Poem - Antigonish

I can't let World Poetry Day go by without sharing my favorite poem.

It is Antigonish by William Hughes Mearns.

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
I wish, I wish, he'd go away...

When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn't see him there at all!
Go away, go away, don't you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don't slam the door...

Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
Oh, how I wish he'd go away...

Hearns wrote the poem in 1899 as part of a play for Harvard University. In 1939 it was made into a song with credits by Harold Adamson and Bernie Hanighan. In July of the same year the Glenn Miller Orchestra made it a hit.

Bits of the poem have been included in many songs and movies. My favorite is in Identity. An actor that I love, Pruitt Taylor Vince, mutters the first stanza and that is where I first heard it.

I have written about the poem before, in my blog post No Sleep For Me.

Reciting it helps me when I am anxious.

Do you have a favorite poem? Do you have one that helps you in times of anxiety and/or depression? Please do share in the comments.

It's World Poetry Day!

In 1999 the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) declared that March 21st would be World Poetry Day.

Before that it was celebrated in October to mark the birth date of Virgil, the Roman poet, and there are still national and international poetry days held then.

To celebrate I would like to share one of my poems with you. I wrote this for my grandson Connor.

Bedtime For Connor

Read me a story

He said with a smile.

I'm not sleepy yet.

It will take just a while.

I'll read you a story.

We'll cuddle and hug.

Then you'll go to sleep 

When I tuck you in snug.

Read me two stories

He said with a grin.

I'll be sleepy for sure and 

I'll go to bed then.

I'll read you two stories.

I'll lie here with you.

You'll be very sleepy

When I read you two.

Read me three stories

He said - about space!

I might be sleepy 

After a moon race.

I'll read you three stories.

We'll fly to the moon.

But we can't stay long.

You'll be asleep soon.

Read me four stories.

He said with a yawn.

I'm sure I'll be sleepy.

The sun is all gone.

I'll read you four stories.

But that will be all.

I have housework to do

And people to call.

Read me five stories.

He said in his sleep.

Then while you do your housework

I won't make a peep.

I'll read you five stories

My precious, my sweet.

The people can wait and

The laundry will keep.

I hope you like it. Thank you for reading.

Please feel free to share your favorite poem in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you.

Oh, To Write, And On What?

According to nationaldaycalendar.com today is National Handwriting Day in the U.S.

I had a good day today before I even knew this.

I woke up early, had some lovely coffee, wrote some poetry and rewrote the story for my Iron Writer challenge next week.

Wrote some poetry? Yes! I recently found out that there is a venue for poetry slams very close to where I live (less than two miles away). With it being so close I cannot think of an excuse not to take advantage of it. I will be digging out old stuff and writing more new stuff. I am so excited about going next month that when I started to think in my usual groggy sing-song self this morning I thought, "Well, write that down, see where it goes."

And, unbeknownst to me at the time, I celebrated National Handwriting Day by using pen and paper instead of the laptop.

According to the website National Handwriting Day was started in 1977 by the Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association. They chose today, January 23rd, because it is John Hancock's birthday. He was the first to sign the Declaration of Independence. And the term "your John Hancock" has become synonymous with term "your signature". You can read more about the association here.

When writing my short stories, and my blog posts, I will use the computer. But for poetry handwriting just seems to make the words flow a bit nicer.

And for writing letters I prefer a nice pen and some pretty paper. But I have been known to write novellas in greeting cards.

I think that even those who write strictly on the computer have that supply of scribbled notes somewhere nearby. I certainly have a pile of notebooks and scraps of paper with scrawled ideas and half cooked poetry.

I hope that you take the time today to create something handwritten. Even just a grocery list. And it would be the perfect day to pen a letter to someone. It can even be someone you talk with all the time. Just a note to let them know they are worth you taking the time to create something to send to them.

Pay attention to the feel of the pen or pencil leaving it's mark on the surface of the paper. Doesn't that feel good?

So what will you write on this fabulous day?

No Sleep For Me

I am going on very little sleep for a week and a half now.

My meds are being adjusted. When I started having trouble falling and staying asleep, yet wanting to just stay in bed all day, I got myself right to my doctors.

I struggle with Major Depressive Disorder and Anxiety. From miles away I can feel differences in my depressed state and I have to act quickly. Otherwise I could end up spending a month in bed and that's just no good.

Usually my Audible.com books on my iPod will do the trick. I will drift off listening to the soothing works of Stephen King or Robert R. McCammon. Weird choices for bedtime stories, I know, but I find them soothing.

When I am sleep-deprived like this, I tend to have a certain poem rattle around in my noggin. It is Antigonish by William Hughes Mearns. I first heard it in the movie Identity when a portion of it was uttered by Pruitt Taylor Vince.

Here is the poem:

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
I wish, I wish he’d go away...

When I came home last night at three
The man was waiting there for me
But when I looked around the hall
I couldn’t see him there at all!
Go away, go away, don’t you come back any more!
Go away, go away, and please don’t slam the door... (slam!)

Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh, how I wish he’d go away...

I suppose that the reason that I enjoy the poem so much is because in times of stress and fatigue I have been known to see things just in the corner of my eye. Fleeting images. Real, or not? Repeating the poem grounds me. Soothes me. I am grateful for it.

Do you have a poem or snippet of prose that you can turn to for comfort?

Well, here is to hoping that the soothing narration of King's The Tommyknockers lulls me to sleep tonight.

And in the meantime, "Yesterday, upon the stair...".

Books

A website asked where in the house you kept your books and where you did your reading. I replied with this:

I have three bookshelves
Filled to the brim.
There’s books placed neatly and
Books on the rim.

I have books by the bed
And books by the couch.
I have stacks that I stub my toe on,
They make me say ouch.

There’s always room for one more,
Because, you see,
The one book I don’t have
Is one written by me.