While kicking around in the early dark and cold...

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I thought I'd do a bit of research on poets.  After writing that last post, I was hoping I hadn't been wrong about Whitman being an American poet.  Yeah, it happens.  Anyway, at least I wasn't wrong on that.  Frost I was much more secure with, and my doubts about Whitman were weak and after the fact.  Anyway, a preliminary list was found that seems to hold some promise.

1 Whitman
2 Roethke
3 Stevens
4 Frost
5 Dickinson
6 Poe
7 R. Lowell
8 Snodgrass
9 Pound
10 Sandburg

I visited amazon, and, surprisingly, found the complete works of some of these, in kindle, for free.  Others, ones I was totally unfamiliar with, wanted as much as $45 per, and not even complete, collections.  Yeah... no.  Some were inexpensive, as little as $.99.  I gobbled up a number of them.  A few I could only find in paperback.  If they were inexpensive enough, I added them to my basket for some future time.  The only one I might pull the plug on, and spend a bit more for a complete, and hardcover, would be Poe.  We go wayyyyy back.  I was reading his works before he was writing them, in a weird and Doomish way.  *wink*

Now, when will I begin?  I can't say.  I am about smack in the middle of the epics of Dante, about a third the way through Haiku (or such), and I am what and who I am.  Time isn't quite what it seems, which... well... don't you worry.  Still, in time, I will begin.  I will probably go with one or two of the bigger names (to my ears)... Frost, Dickens, and Whitman would be the top candidates.  While, Poe, of course... I have covered Poe so well that...  And, yet, he is definitely added back into the queue.

Why?  Edumacation, lads and lasses, edumacation.  This is one area I... never allowed myself to explore, save in an offhand way with Poe (horror) and Shakespeare (if only personally and privately).  I had my reasons.  I had much to sort.  I could not be seen as... more... problematic than I already was.  Secrets protect us, secrets keep us safe.  Especially when so small.  Now I can finish my education, in this area.  Or... start it?  If this goes well, I may begin adding in foreign poets.  I will be careful, however.  I am not interests in some so-called poets.  Rappers are NOT poets.  I will go more global, however.  English, what of some foreign translate well enough, and maybe pushing the envelope a bit.  Why?  It is time.  As well, I have hopes my language skills might improve.  I probably can't bump them all that much, but... maybe.  Ah, and stories.  In the end, that is all that remains here.  More might go on, the soul, or spirit converted to soul.  But here, in the fallen realm, all that will remain, for as long as it remains, are stories.

Oh... Snodgrass?  I had always thought that was a joke name, maybe even about a fictional poet.  I think I spoke with Michael about it before.  Noting my humorous reaction to the name, and suggesting just what I noted here.  I never went on to realize the reality, and the name sunk back to fiction and funny... until this.  Will I never learn?  Sometimes, of course not.  Having too much fun until I am forced to rewrite the wiring harness around some tiddlybits.

Later.