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The Daily Poem

Goldberry Studios

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The Daily Poem offers one essential poem each weekday morning. From Shakespeare and John Donne to Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, The Daily Poem curates a broad and generous audio anthology of the best poetry ever written, read-aloud by David Kern and an assortment of various contributors. Some lite commentary is included and the shorter poems are often read twice, as time permits. The Daily Poem is presented by Goldberry Studios. dailypoempod.substack.com
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Trago Poemas

Renata Ettinger

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sim trago poemas bebo seus versos de uma só vez sorvo as palavras saboreio as letras deixo o poema circular em meu sangue invadir cada célula até a poesia ser voz. Por: Renata Ettinger.
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PoemTalk at the Writers House, hosted by Al Filreis and based at Kelly Writers House in Philadelphia. PoemTalk is a collaboration with the University of Pennsylvania's Center for Programs in Contemporary Writing and Jacket2.org.
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AUDIOBOOKS Livros Contos Poemas

Carlos Eduardo Valente

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Narração e interpretação de livros, contos e poemas para todos Para os amantes da literatura em geral. Deficientes visuais. Audiobooks produzidos, narrados e interpretados por Carlos Eduardo Valente. Se você quiser apoiar esse projeto, acesse: apoia.se/carloseduardovalente PIX: carlao50@gmail.com -NUBANK QUALQUER VALOR É BEM VINDO youtube.com/@CarlosEduardoValente
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Poem-a-Day

The Academy of American Poets

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Poem-a-Day is the original, daily poetry series featuring new poems by today’s poets. Produced by the Academy of American Poets, this free digital series is made possible by you, our readers and listeners. Theme music by Kat Rejsek. Audio engineering by Thea Matthews. Learn more about Poem-a-Day and, if you can, please consider supporting this series by making a gift at poets.org/give.
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Poemas Sueltos

Hugo Cuevas-Mohr

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Este podcast del poeta Hugo Cuevas-Mohr nos lleva al encuentro, en cada episodio, de un poema y su autor, con reflexiones y comentarios que nos acerquen a la magia de la poesía. En esta primera temporada de 12 episodios, tendremos poemas de Neruda, Machado, Benedetti, Hernández, García Lorca, Goytisolo, Guillén, Alberti, Ruben Darío, Gabriela Mistral, Isaías Gamboa y Max Ehrmann.
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Perseguindo a ideia de Lawrence Ferlinghetti - "a poesia é a distância mais curta entre duas pessoas" - esperamos, através das escolhas poéticas dos nossos convidados, ficar mais perto deles e conhecê-los melhor. Usamos o verso de Luiza Neto Jorge “O Poema Ensina a Cair” para dar título a este podcast sobre os poemas da vida dos nossos convidados. Um projecto da autoria de Raquel Marinho. "Melhor podcast de Arte e Cultura" pelo Podes 2021 - Festival de Podcasts.
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Wacky Poem Life

Shaun Perkins

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Wacky Poem Life is a 30-minute podcast taped at the Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry. Hosts Bill Guthrie and Shaun Perkins begin with a piece of found poetry someone has left in the museum and go from there with some wacky, then some poetry, then some more wacky. A poetry podcast FOR EVERYONE!
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Because reading is interpretation, The Well Read Poem aims to teach you how to read with understanding! Hosted by poet Thomas Banks of The House of Humane Letters, these short episodes will introduce you to both well-known and obscure poets and will focus on daily recitation, historical and intellectual background, elements of poetry, light explication, and more! Play this podcast daily and practice reciting! The next week, get a new poem. Grow in your understanding and love of poetry by lea ...
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This podcast presents Hindi poetry, Ghazals, songs, and Bhajans written by me. इस पॉडकास्ट के माध्यम से मैं स्वरचित कवितायेँ, ग़ज़ल, गीत, भजन इत्यादि प्रस्तुत कर रहा हूँ Awards StoryMirror - Narrator of the year 2022, Author of the month (seven times during 2021-22) Kalam Ke Jadugar - Three Times Poet of the Month. Sometimes I also collaborate with other musicians & singers to bring fresh content to my listeners. Always looking for fresh voices. Write to me at HindiPoemsByVivek@gmail.com #Hind ...
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100 Poets, 100 Poems

Poetry from the Jungle from The Ceylon Press

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“100 Poets, 100 Poems,” is a Ceylon Press "Poetry From The Jungle" podcast. Recorded in the dense Kandyan jungle, it presents a spirited new view on the world’s most gratifying classic poetry. The selection may appear to be random, contrary and wilful – but, like the jungle itself - within which the list was made and recorded - an ordered artful and invisible balance links each poet and poem.
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We All Speak In Poems is an interview based podcast by Alaskan Tapes and Chantal. We try to chat with as many inspiring and creative people as possible. Take a listen and be transported into the worlds of your favourite Artists, Musicians, Authors, and more.
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Welcome to Artipod, where the artistic side of words and memories meets the joy of self-expression. I'm Besart, your host, and on this podcast I share my love for writing by bringing my emotions in the form of poems a bit closer to your life. Join me on this expression through the verses. Each episode will be a heartfelt exploration of thoughts, memories and emotions. Artipod is a space where the simplicity of spoken words in combination with the depth that sounds bring forms a narrative tha ...
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Poemify Podcast

Ikike Arts (formerly Poemify Publishers)

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Welcome to Poemify Podcast: The poetry and arts Talk Show podcast, where we celebrate the beauty and diversity of African art. Our show features interviews with African artists, poets, and other creatives who draw inspiration from the rich cultural heritage of Africa.
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Poema

Neldi Jimenez

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Este podcast explica el poema de peregrina Cover art photo provided by Arash Asghari on Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/@arashasghari
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Poemas

Claudia Rodríguez Castellanos

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Lectura amateur de poemas latinoamericanos. Cover art photo provided by Honey Yanibel Minaya Cruz on Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/@honeyyanibel
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Poemas de amor. Poemas de amor con voz. Poemas de amor para enamorados. Poemas de amor para enamoradas. Poesías de amor. Poesías de amor recitadas. Poesías de amor con voz. Poemas de amor en audio. Poesías de amor en audio. Audiopoemas. Pódcast de poemas de amor. Poesías de amor para escuchar. Poemas de amor para escuchar. Poemas. Poesías. Escuchar poemas. Escuchar poesías. Poemas de amor famosos para enamorar. Poemas de amor recitados. Poemas recitados. Poemas de amor para dedicar. Poemas d ...
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Today’s poem, though written for the far more infrequent crowning of monarchs, contains plenty of sentiments fitting for a quadrennial presidential inauguration. Happy reading. On a pillar on the west wall of Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey is a white marble bust to poet and clergyman John Keble. The bust is signed and dated by Thomas Woolner, 1…
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Amanda Holmes reads Wisława Szymborska’s “The Terrorist, He’s Watching,” translated from the Polish by Stanisław Barańczak and Clare Cavanagh. Have a suggestion for a poem by a (dead) writer? Email us: podcast@theamericanscholar.org. If we select your entry, you’ll win a copy of a poetry collection edited by David Lehman. This episode was produced …
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Welcome back to Season 18 of the Well Read Poem. During this season, we are offering our listeners six poems about family life. The poems selected for this season are quite various in style and manner, and have been chosen for the light they shed on relationships between parents and children, between husbands and wives, brothers and sisters. We hop…
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I have lit my treasured candles, one by one, to hallow this night. With you, who do not come, I wait the birth of the year. Dear God! the flame has drowned in crystal, and the wine, like poison, burns Old malice bites the air, old ravings rave again, though the hour has not yet struck. Dread. Bottomless dread… I am that shadow on the threshold defe…
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कथा सुनो सुभाष की, अदम्य स्वाभिमान की। अज़ाद हिन्द फ़ौज के, पराक्रमी जवान की॥ अनन्य राष्ट्र प्रेम की, अतुल्य शौर्य त्याग की। सहस्त्र लक्ष वक्ष में, प्रचंड दग्ध आग की॥ सशस्त्र युद्ध राह पे, सदैव वो रहा डटा। समस्त विश्व साक्ष्य है, नहीं डरा नहीं हटा॥ असंख्य शत्रु देख के, गिरा न स्वेद भाल से। अभीष्ट लक्ष्य के लिए, लड़ा कराल काल से॥ अतीव कष्ट मार्ग में, …
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En este cuarto episodio de la segunda temporada de Poemas Sueltos te traigo el poema Quiero besarte la risa de la poeta española Josefina Romo. Hago primero una reflexión de mi conexión con este poema basado en un sueño, de un beso y de una sonrisa, de un beso desembocando en una sonrisa. Luego recito el poema y continúo con algunos comentarios, ex…
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Though not yet the Dantesque hells that they are today, airports in 1954 were already places of union, separation, and general existential anxiety. This meditation comes from a serious and sphinx-like Winters at the height of his poetic development–though not yet at his own “terminal,” here he is a man who already has plenty to look back on. Happy …
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After my third shot of tequila / chased by a lime sour as my rant: fuck this-fuck that-fuck them-fuck me-fuck it all / you slashed me / same as your poems’ slashes / slash me / when you asked me: so, why the fuck don’t you ever say it in your poems / I took another shot but couldn’t shoot out a reason / until now, Jan / you’re right, so / fuck \ th…
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When sorrow lays us low for a second we are saved by humble windfalls of the mindfulness or memory: the taste of a fruit, the taste of water, that face given back to us by a dream, the first jasmine of November, the endless yearning of the compass, a book we thought was lost, the throb of a hexameter, the slight key that opens a house to us, the sm…
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You might say the streets flow sweetly through the night. The lights are dim so the secret will be kept, the secret known by the men who come and go, for they’re all in on the secret and why break it up in a thousand pieces when it’s so sweet to hold it close, and share it only with the one chosen person. If, at a given moment, everyone would say w…
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I woke in the night and thought, It was a dream, nothing has torn the future apart, we have not lived years in dread, it never happened, I dreamed it all. And then there was this sensation of terrific pressure lifting, as if I were rising in one of those old diving bells, lightening, unburdening. I didn’t know how heavy my life had become—so much f…
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All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to sch…
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To you I have given wings, on which you may fly aloft Above the boundless sea and all the earth With ease. At feasts and banquets you will be present On all occasions, lying in the mouths of many, And to the clear-toned sound of pipes young men With seemly grace and loveliness, their voices fair and clear, Will sing of you. And when beneath the hol…
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Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he’s a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he’s to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, a…
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On a northern peak among white clouds You have found your hermitage of peace; And now, as I climb this mountain to see you, High with the wildgeese flies my heart. The quiet dusk might seem a little sad If this autumn weather were not so brisk and clear; I look down at the river bank, with homeward-bound villagers Resting on the sand till the ferry…
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When spring begins and the ice-locked streams begin To flow down from the snowy hills above And the clods begin to crumble in the breeze, The time has come for my groaning ox to drag My heavy plow across the fields, so that The plow blade shines as the furrow rubs against it. Not till the earth has been twice plowed, so twice Exposed to sun and twi…
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What will you do, God, when I die? I am your jar (if cracked, I lie?) Your well-spring (if the well go dry?) I am your craft, your vesture I— You lose your purport, losing me. When I go, your cold house will be Empty of words that made it sweet. I am the sandals your bare feet Will seek and long for, wearily. Your cloak will fall from aching bones.…
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I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their…
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There was Dai Puw. He was no good. They put him in the fields to dock swedes, And took the knife from him, when he came home At late evening with a grin Like the slash of a knife on his face. There was Llew Puw, and he was no good. Every evening after the ploughing With the big tractor he would sit in his chair, And stare into the tangled fire gard…
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In addition there is fashioned there an ancient fisherman and a rock, a rugged rock, on which with might and main the old man poises a great net for the cast as one who puts his whole heart into it. One would say that he was fishing with the full strength of his limbs so big do his muscles stand out about the neck. Gray-haired though he be, he has …
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I think continually of those who were truly great. Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history Through corridors of light, where the hours are suns, Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition Was that their lips, still touched with fire, Should tell of the Spirit, clothed from head to foot in song. And who hoarded from the Spring branches The…
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Here stood our ancestral home: The crumbling wall marks the spot. Here a sheep was led to slaugther To appease the gods and atone For faults which our destiny Has blossomed into crimes. There my cursed father once stood And shouted at us, his children. To come back from our play To our evening meal and sleep. The clouds are thickening in the red sk…
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Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes, And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies. I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands, Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea's making Mist-garlanded, with all grey weeds of the water crowned. There you'll be…
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Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setti…
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Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning. I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig. I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour. Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!" Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sti…
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The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams Turns mine to wax. And I am dumb to mout…
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I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there, And learn by go…
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Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anemia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding. Her boredom is exquisite and e…
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I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it—— A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the napkin O my enemy. Do I terrify?—— The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh The gra…
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Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life…
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When at break of day at a riverside I hear the jungle drums telegraphing the mystic rhythm, urgent, rawlike bleeding flesh, speaking of primal youth and the beginning I see the panther ready to pounce the leopard snarling about to leapand the hunters crouch with spears poised; And my blood ripples, turns torrent, topples the years and at once I’min…
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I caught this morning morning's minion, king- dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding Rebuf…
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In the courtyard a shower of peach petals piles deep; Wandering orioles cry out on a magnolia tree near the fence. Through tasseled silk curtains the spring cold seeps in; From the censer a list of burning incense gently curls. A beautiful girl woken from sleep makes up her face anew; Fine girdle of fragrant silk, patterned with ducks. She rolls up…
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Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till a…
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The moon is playing hide-and-seek Behind the clouds. A mellow smile Lingers on the lips of the sky Tides tease and tangle At the water's edge. The buck eyes The doe with a deep, alluring passion Sun mo bi, Ologuro I am in the mood for love tonight I can hear pigeons cooing In their coop. I can hear alapandede Swapping notes in the shady eaves Oge t…
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