nice...very nice

Beautiful reading!

❤

Nicely read. Very pleasant and soothing voice and presentation. Thank you. ❤

Well read. Well done.

(...) I shall stay all day in the sun Where the wide winds blow, But oh, I shall weep at night When none will know. Sara Teasdale

Wow I like Hilda Doolittle's poem

I come to this poetry knowing that as a high school student Michael Franks was influenced by Roethke's poetry. There is something uniquely beautiful in Michael's lyrics. Often they follow rhythms that we are not accustomed to hearing. I know the references to Roethke's off metered lines. And now here I quickly recognize how deeply observant the poet was to the natural world around him.

He reads better than most do, imo, here on KZfaq though!! They read like voice actors, it's stomach-churning to me!! AND, NOT IN A "GOOD" WAY!! GOOD POETRY DOESN'T NEED THAT, ASSININE, "THEATRICAL DELIVERY" CR**!! THE WORDS ARS "MOVING" ENOUGH, ON THEIR OWN!! JUST GD..READ!! THEM!!!! STOP THE GD "VOICE-ACTING", IT BELITTLES THE WORK, NOT ENHANCES IT, AT LEAST IN MY EYES, IT DOES!!!! HE DID THIS POEM WELL, BY SIMPLY READING AND NOT TRYING TO "VOICE ACT" AND OVER-DRAMATIZE THE WORK. THE ONLY PERSON, IMHO, WITH...ANY...RIGHT TO DO THAT SH**? IS THE...ORIGINAL...WRITER...OF THE WORK BEING READ!! EVEN "REAL" "ACTORS" READ IT WITH MORE REALITY AND SINCERITY THAN SOME OF THESS PEOPLE DO!! 🤢🤮

I love Langston Hughes he made a profound effect on me when I took English Literature in college.

You are a *great* reader of poetry. Reading well is difficult. You let me listen past your voice, right into the heart of the words.

Poem timings as follows 1. Garden 0:09; 2. Evening 0:58; 3. The Pool 1:44; 4. Sigil 1:58; 5. The Sheltered Garden 2:44

Miss Teasdale's love affair with words is a gift for us all.

... any remaindwhysimplefrequencybin remaindremove...?♨️👾

Beauty...

Langston Hughes is my favorite poet.

In a world of fewer distractions and hooks, the thoughts of Léonie Fuller Adams flew high and with careful planning too. We can feel the freedom here, where the noise of life is not so drastic.

I am reading the translations of Osip by Clarence Brown and poet W.S. Merwin published by New York Review of Books. There is a good intro by Brown written in 1973 in Princeton, excellent notes, and Osip's thoughts on Dante. Moving beyond words, Pasternak was haunted by Osip's fate under Stalin and Beria.

1. Dream Variations 0:08 2.Theme for English B 1:07 3. Madam's Past History 3:38 4. Night Funeral in Harlem 4:31 5. The Negro Speaks of Rivers 6:22

Cunning masterful the slide

Good work as always.

The poem by Lorca Adivinanza de la Guitarra has become a song by E Papamichail on you tube

LOCRA😓

Nicely done! thankyou.

Interesting, thanks

As a russian average guy I can just say that this is pathetic. Lil wayne has better rhymes than this. Greatest American poet passed away September 13 1996!

I recited a poem for all the mothers out there. m.kzfaq.info/get/bejne/qJN3Z8p11a3So2Q.html Please check it out.

The voice says "I am the only colored student..." Question: How would it be a non colored student?

Beauty in the eye of all.

Is this Langston Hughes who is reciting these poems?

Bob Reed Lorca--my translation: Lorca, The Dawn (NYC) The dawn of New York has four muddy columns and a hurricane of black pigeons splashing in putrid puddles. The dawn of New York moans through tall fire escapes looking among the edges for shards of anguish. Dawn comes and no one can swallow it because here there is no redemption and no hope. Sometimes swarming hoards of coins are enough to devour abandoned children. The first that wake know in their bones that today there will be no paradise or love found they know today they will be dragged down in the mire of numbers and laws in artless games and the fruitless sweat of their brows. Creeping crepuscular light captured by chains and noise in a swamp of irreverent rootless science, and in the boroughs the people wander half conscious like survivors of a catastrophe.

Sweet moon, that's some of the most profoundly beautiful poetry I've ever heard!

Thank FUCKING GOD!! No dumb intro music... Just reading the ART thank GOOOOD!! A++++

Volume and tone changes are jarring

2020

I too my favorite

cool

Black like me was deep it gave me goose bumps

This is unquestionably Jack Spicer's voice. The precision, the sympathy with a fellow crumpled homosexual. The sibilance.

My favorite Crane reading.

No will believe me but he’s my great grandpa..

history frightens with the wretched and destitute slung like weapons against beauties balms. the poet coerces with caresses of the smithy hammer all into shapes out of shadow. here was one. who did not bend. and was broken upon his own words. yet the words remain. songs sung by echo and resolve. for generation after generation. it gathers like a forest. long after the last tree is felled. it waits for us with fingers of long nails. in shroud, it watches all. sightless eyes unblinking. it points and draws the mark where the dagger must go. and always. Macbeth must follow. we must follow. stagger along in the long twisting halls. such is the gravity of poets. we must follow. though seldom do we learn.

Idk how I got here but I’m glad

Great poems, questionable "I'm soooo good at reading d r a m a t i c al ly" reading style. That's the kind of pretension that turns people away from poetry.

The clarity of her words and melody defy the clipped nature of her poetry. She does not overtly romantizise yet to the ear and mind is flows and touches the mind with its imagination. To the man reciting her poems. Exceptional. You voice suits this poetry. In a way her language is almost masculine in language. Its precise.

Thank you

Short poetry with long meaning.

this reading is low energy without any intonation

I find the poetry of Frost to be progressively depressing. He seems to dwell on just himself. Alone, like a perpetual implosion. His words issuing no glimpse of light nor hope to his fellows in the world. A personal introverted, self feeding, black hole. Into which his words vanish, with a final squeak, as they cross the event horizon.

xx in