{"id":67775,"date":"2020-06-27T16:28:55","date_gmt":"2020-06-27T20:28:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=67775"},"modified":"2020-06-27T16:28:55","modified_gmt":"2020-06-27T20:28:55","slug":"braided-poem","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/braided-poem\/","title":{"rendered":"Braided Poem"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>At low tide like this how sheer the water is<\/p>\n<p>like a poet hidden<\/p>\n<p>what a million filaments<\/p>\n<p>by shallow rivers to whose falls<\/p>\n<p>set thy own songs, and sing them to thy lute<\/p>\n<p>to fetch new lust and give it to you<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>all suddenly around his body wound<\/p>\n<p>like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe<\/p>\n<p>the next, with dirges due, in sad array<\/p>\n<p>when I saw my mother&#8217;s head on the cold pillow<\/p>\n<p>oh, write no more the tale of Troy.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Lines randomly selected:<\/p>\n<p>At low tide like this how sheer the water is<\/p>\n<p>set thy own songs, and sing them to thy lute<\/p>\n<p>Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe<\/p>\n<p>fame and rumor are but toys<\/p>\n<p>oh, write no more the tale of Troy<\/p>\n<p>by shallow rivers to whose falls<\/p>\n<p>that the uncertain and adulaterate fruit<\/p>\n<p>like a poet hidden<\/p>\n<p>all suddenly about his body wound<\/p>\n<p>Minever Cheevy, child of scorn<\/p>\n<p>to fetch new lust, and give it to you<\/p>\n<p>what a million filaments<\/p>\n<p>when I saw my mother&#8217;s head on the cold pillow<\/p>\n<p>the next, with dirges due, in sad array<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>poets whose lines are used:<\/p>\n<p>William Collins<\/p>\n<p>R.S. Thomas<\/p>\n<p>Sylvia Plath<\/p>\n<p>John Donne<\/p>\n<p>E.A. Robinson<\/p>\n<p>Robert Spenser<\/p>\n<p>Andrew Marvell<\/p>\n<p>Shakespeare<\/p>\n<p>Ben Jonson<\/p>\n<p>Percy Shelley<\/p>\n<p>Elizabeth Bishop<\/p>\n<p>John Dryden<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>At low tide like this how sheer the water is like a poet hidden what a million filaments by shallow rivers to whose falls set thy own songs, and sing them to thy lute to fetch new lust and give it to you &nbsp; all&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1343,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-67775","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67775","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1343"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=67775"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67775\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":68102,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67775\/revisions\/68102"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=67775"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=67775"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=67775"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}