by Jack Ramey | Jan 31, 2018 | Art, Jack Ramey, John Keats, Poetry
Jack Ramey reads Ode To a Nightingale. [Poem] My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains ….My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains ….One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through...
by Jack Ramey | Jan 30, 2018 | Art, Jack Ramey, John Keats, Poetry
Jack Ramey reads Ode on a Grecian Urn. [Poem] Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, …..Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express …..A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What...
by Jack Ramey | Jan 29, 2018 | Art, Jack Ramey, Poetry, Shelley
I O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves deadAre driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,Who chariotest to their dark...
by Jack Ramey | Jan 28, 2018 | Art, Jack Ramey, Poetry, Shelley
[Poem] I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its...
by Jack Ramey | Jul 1, 2017 | Art, Jack Ramey, plato, Poetry
[Poem] The skin that hangs from this skeleton is cloud stuff: tree limbs on a hilltop seen from a moving vehicle – ineluctable like foxfire in nightwind, vanishing within seconds after sight. The tegument between these bones feels right; tightened to keep me strung...
by Jack Ramey | Feb 10, 2017 | Art, Jack Ramey, Poetry
[Poem] . . . . . . . . . Withered willows in the Fall . . . . . . . .. . whither go thy leaves? The layers of oversight have been changed. Bare ruined choirs stain the landscape dripping with rain in late November. The 21st century limited exists in tandem...
