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Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...] https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

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NancyGene wrote:

On Saturday, April 16, 2022 at 4:01:46 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Today is actually called "Holy Saturday."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Saturday

"Easter Saturday, on the Christian calendar, is the Saturday following the festival of Easter, the Saturday of Easter or Bright Week. In the liturgy of Western Christianity it is the last day of Easter Week, sometimes referred to as the Saturday of
Easter Week or Saturday in Easter Week. In the liturgy of Eastern Christianity it is the last day of Bright Week, and called Bright Saturday, The Bright and Holy Septave Saturday of Easter Eve, or The Bright and Holy Septave Paschal Artos and Octoechoes
Saturday of Iscariot's Byzantine Easter Eve. Easter Saturday is the day preceding the Octave Day of Easter (also known as St. Thomas Sunday or Divine Mercy Sunday)..."

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NancyGene wrote:

On Saturday, April 16, 2022 at 4:01:46 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Today is actually called "Holy Saturday."

Quiet, you nit picking know-it-all......

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George J. Dance wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...] https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Thanks again for helping get these obscure poets to modern readers, George.

🙂

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Will Dockery wrote:

George J. Dance wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Thanks again for helping get these obscure poets to modern readers, George.

🙂

And Claude McKay is without a doubt one of these....


---------------------------------------------------

Why you should know Harlem Renaissance writer Claude McKay. Even if you've never heard of him.

https://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-claude-mckay-ent-0214-20170213-column.html


***************By the time Claude McKay died in Chicago at 58, he had been homeless for a time, and penniless longer. He had been on the decline for a decade, physically, financially and culturally. He had been close with artists Jacob Lawrence and
Romare Bearden and others instrumental in the 1935 founding of the Harlem Artists' Guild, but his own attempts at organizing a Negro Author's Guild were a bust. He had a stroke. He doubted his relevancy as a writer. He was a mess. His friend Ellen Tarry,
later known as the first African-American picture book author, found him in a New York boarding house in 1942, destitute and ill. She connected him with Catholic groups, and for a time, his spiritual life flourished. Though when he moved to Chicago soon
after to teach for the Catholic Youth Organization, he was too weak to carry his belongings and left everything behind.

His career was pretty short. And not entirely complete.

"Amiable With Big Teeth," his first novel since 1940, was published posthumously last week. You should know Claude McKay. Even if you never have heard of him. He was, in a precursory way, the future of American literature, an immigrant who wrestled with
ideas of home and, specifically, the best way to represent the totality of African-American life *****************************

****************************** When he died of heart failure in 1948, his literary reputation was in a deep flux. Celebrated (and criticized) for his sense of everyday realism and understanding of the variety in black communities, his place as a Harlem
Renaissance touchstone was firm; his poem "If We Must Die" ("Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack/ Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!") was on its way to transcending the African-American experience and speaking to resistance
movements worldwide. But "Home To Harlem," his signature work, considered the first best-selling novel by a black writer, had been published 20 years earlier. And McKay, in general, had not published in years.

His obituary in this newspaper was one paragraph long, only a handful of lines: He lived near Washington Park, he wrote a little, he died. That's about it. His obituary wasn't even the primary obituary that day in the Tribune: McKay was beaten out by a
suburban businessman who had once patented an early forerunner to the air brake used on trains **************************************

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On 2022-06-20 4:27 p.m., Victor H. wrote:

Will Dockery wrote:

George J. Dance wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
     Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
     In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Thanks again for helping get these obscure poets to modern readers,
George.

🙂

And Claude McKay is without a doubt one of these....

---------------------------------------------------

Why you should know Harlem Renaissance writer Claude McKay. Even if
you've never heard of him.

https://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-claude-mckay-ent-0214-20170213-column.html

***************By the time Claude McKay died in Chicago at 58, he had
been homeless for a time, and penniless longer. He had been on the
decline for a decade, physically, financially and culturally. He had
been close with artists Jacob Lawrence and Romare Bearden and others instrumental in the 1935 founding of the Harlem Artists' Guild, but his
own attempts at organizing a Negro Author's Guild were a bust. He had a stroke. He doubted his relevancy as a writer. He was a mess. His friend
Ellen Tarry, later known as the first African-American picture book
author, found him in a New York boarding house in 1942, destitute and
ill. She connected him with Catholic groups, and for a time, his
spiritual life flourished. Though when he moved to Chicago soon after to teach for the Catholic Youth Organization, he was too weak to carry his belongings and left everything behind.

His career was pretty short. And not entirely complete.

"Amiable With Big Teeth," his first novel since 1940, was published posthumously last week. You should know Claude McKay. Even if you never
have heard of him. He was, in a precursory way, the future of American literature, an immigrant who wrestled with ideas of home and,
specifically, the best way to represent the totality of African-American
life *****************************

******************************  When he died of heart failure in 1948,
his literary reputation was in a deep flux. Celebrated (and criticized)
for his sense of everyday realism and understanding of the variety in
black communities, his place as a Harlem Renaissance touchstone was
firm; his poem "If We Must Die" ("Like men we'll face the murderous,
cowardly pack/ Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!") was on
its way to transcending the African-American experience and speaking to resistance movements worldwide. But "Home To Harlem," his signature
work, considered the first best-selling novel by a black writer, had
been published 20 years earlier. And McKay, in general, had not
published in years.

His obituary in this newspaper was one paragraph long, only a handful of lines: He lived near Washington Park, he wrote a little, he died. That's about it. His obituary wasn't even the primary obituary that day in the Tribune: McKay was beaten out by a suburban businessman who had once
patented an early forerunner to the air brake used on trains **************************************

Thanks for bringing McKay back to notice. He'll be on PPB again on July
4; he beat out Ernest Hemingway, whose poem I'll save for another year.

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George J. Dance wrote:

On 2022-06-20 4:27 p.m., Victor H. wrote:

Will Dockery wrote:

George J. Dance wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
     Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
     In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Thanks again for helping get these obscure poets to modern readers,
George.

🙂

And Claude McKay is without a doubt one of these....


---------------------------------------------------

Why you should know Harlem Renaissance writer Claude McKay. Even if
you've never heard of him.

https://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-claude-mckay-ent-0214-20170213-column.html



***************By the time Claude McKay died in Chicago at 58, he had
been homeless for a time, and penniless longer. He had been on the
decline for a decade, physically, financially and culturally. He had
been close with artists Jacob Lawrence and Romare Bearden and others
instrumental in the 1935 founding of the Harlem Artists' Guild, but his
own attempts at organizing a Negro Author's Guild were a bust. He had a
stroke. He doubted his relevancy as a writer. He was a mess. His friend
Ellen Tarry, later known as the first African-American picture book
author, found him in a New York boarding house in 1942, destitute and
ill. She connected him with Catholic groups, and for a time, his
spiritual life flourished. Though when he moved to Chicago soon after to
teach for the Catholic Youth Organization, he was too weak to carry his
belongings and left everything behind.

His career was pretty short. And not entirely complete.

"Amiable With Big Teeth," his first novel since 1940, was published
posthumously last week. You should know Claude McKay. Even if you never
have heard of him. He was, in a precursory way, the future of American
literature, an immigrant who wrestled with ideas of home and,
specifically, the best way to represent the totality of African-American
life *****************************

******************************  When he died of heart failure in 1948,
his literary reputation was in a deep flux. Celebrated (and criticized)
for his sense of everyday realism and understanding of the variety in
black communities, his place as a Harlem Renaissance touchstone was
firm; his poem "If We Must Die" ("Like men we'll face the murderous,
cowardly pack/ Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!") was on
its way to transcending the African-American experience and speaking to
resistance movements worldwide. But "Home To Harlem," his signature
work, considered the first best-selling novel by a black writer, had
been published 20 years earlier. And McKay, in general, had not
published in years.

His obituary in this newspaper was one paragraph long, only a handful of
lines: He lived near Washington Park, he wrote a little, he died. That's
about it. His obituary wasn't even the primary obituary that day in the
Tribune: McKay was beaten out by a suburban businessman who had once
patented an early forerunner to the air brake used on trains
**************************************

Thanks for bringing McKay back to notice. He'll be on PPB again on July
4; he beat out Ernest Hemingway, whose poem I'll save for another year.

I'll note that this plan was later switched, for readers of rec.arts.poems who didn't get the extended thread alt.arts.poetry.comments readers got with this thread.

And so it goes.

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Will Dockery wrote:

NancyGene wrote:

On Saturday, April 16, 2022 at 4:01:46 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote:

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Today is actually called "Holy Saturday."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Saturday

"Easter Saturday, on the Christian calendar, is the Saturday following the festival of Easter, the Saturday of Easter or Bright Week. In the liturgy of Western Christianity it is the last day of Easter Week, sometimes referred to as the Saturday of

Easter Week or Saturday in Easter Week. In the liturgy of Eastern Christianity it is the last day of Bright Week, and called Bright Saturday, The Bright and Holy Septave Saturday of Easter Eve, or The Bright and Holy Septave Paschal Artos and Octoechoes
Saturday of Iscariot's Byzantine Easter Eve. Easter Saturday is the day preceding the Octave Day of Easter (also known as St. Thomas Sunday or Divine Mercy Sunday)..."


You nailed that one....!

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Victor H. wrote:

Will Dockery wrote:

NancyGene wrote:

On Saturday, April 16, 2022 at 4:01:46 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote: >>>

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Today is actually called "Holy Saturday."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Saturday

"Easter Saturday, on the Christian calendar, is the Saturday following the festival of Easter, the Saturday of Easter or Bright Week. In the liturgy of Western Christianity it is the last day of Easter Week, sometimes referred to as the Saturday of

Easter Week or Saturday in Easter Week. In the liturgy of Eastern Christianity it is the last day of Bright Week, and called Bright Saturday, The Bright and Holy Septave Saturday of Easter Eve, or The Bright and Holy Septave Paschal Artos and Octoechoes
Saturday of Iscariot's Byzantine Easter Eve. Easter Saturday is the day preceding the Octave Day of Easter (also known as St. Thomas Sunday or Divine Mercy Sunday)..."

You nailed that one....!

I'm looking forward to more poetry from Claude McKay, George Dance said there's at least one more poem from him available.

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Will Dockery wrote:

NancyGene wrote:

On Saturday, April 16, 2022 at 4:01:46 PM UTC, george...@yahoo.ca wrote: >>>>

Penny's Poetry Blog's poem for Easter Saturday:
The Easter Flower, by Claude McKay
[...]
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
[...]
https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2022/04/the-easter-flower-claude-mckay.html

Today is actually called "Holy Saturday."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_Saturday

"Easter Saturday, on the Christian calendar, is the Saturday following the festival of Easter, the Saturday of Easter or Bright Week. In the liturgy of Western Christianity it is the last day of Easter Week, sometimes referred to as the Saturday of

Easter Week or Saturday in Easter Week. In the liturgy of Eastern Christianity it is the last day of Bright Week, and called Bright Saturday, The Bright and Holy Septave Saturday of Easter Eve, or The Bright and Holy Septave Paschal Artos and Octoechoes
Saturday of Iscariot's Byzantine Easter Eve. Easter Saturday is the day preceding the Octave Day of Easter (also known as St. Thomas Sunday or Divine Mercy Sunday)..."

You nailed that one....!

I'm looking forward to more poetry from Claude McKay, George Dance said there's at least one more poem from him available.

He is good

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