Thursday, March 16, 2006

Did you know...and Poetry Thursday

that McMansion is a slang architectural term that describes those oddities of housing which now dot the suburban landscape and seem to be breeding at faster and faster rates, like...well, like the damn rabbits that are breeding in my back yard. The Wickepedia definition says, "It is a pejorative term describing a particular style of housing that--as its name suggests--is both large like a mansion and as culturally ubiquitous as McDonald's fast food restaurants." Synonyms include: Beltway Baronials, Starter Castles, Tract Mansions, Mini-Taj Mahals, Big Foot, Gable-opolis, and Faux Chateau. You can read more about it here. Very interesting! I couldn't help but laugh because there are so many in our immediate area. I think these terms describe what Deborah of Knitstory wrote about a while back. :)

I have not officially joined Poetry Thursday which DebR mentioned in a comment last week, but since this poem has been running through my mind for the last few days, I am posting a poem...on Thursday. One of my all time favorites:

In My Craft or Sullen Art

In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms,
I labor by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.
Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.

Dylan Thomas

Ah, Dylan, one day I'll visit Wales and and raise my glass to you.


  1. I love this poem too...(have you read the one on Junott's blog?)...the metaphor "singing light" I love!

  2. this is gorgeous. i want to read it out loud while standing on a green hill in wales.
    my journey into poetry has helped me to realize that so many poets who the teachers in my past made inaccessible are, in fact, the poets who speak to my heart now. thank you for reminding me of this and introducing me to this poem.


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