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Authors: Louis L'amour
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Smoke From This Altar (1990)
NEWLY COLLECTED POEMS
I Haven't Read Gone With The Wind
In Protest
Question
A Wail From a Pulpeteer
Old Jerry
Picture
Call Of The Tropics
The Gladiator
The Pioneer
Tranquillity
Twilight
Forest People
Winter Winds
Let It Snow
Then Came Spring
Rain
Mutation
To One Without Faith
Rose of Memory
Let Me Forget
*
INTRODUCTION by Kathy L'Amour
The first book Louis purchased for his own library was The Standard Book of British and American Verse. It was published in 1932 and much used and loved. It is still in our library, now in its second binding. Louis' love of poetry and the English language was so strong and important in his life that it carried him through many dangerous and lonely days. At the time, poetry was the expression of Louis' most important thoughts and feelings. It was the first manner in which he wrote about his life, his views and the places he had seen. Some of these poems got published in various newspapers and magazines, and though he made only a few dollars from these sales, they gave him the optimism to keep writing.
One of his most encouraging moments came in 1936, when he received a letter from George Riley Hall, the editor of the Daily Free-Lance, about his poem, "Banked Fires," which had just been published in the Daily Oklahoman.
A section of the letter read: ". . . The poem is exquisite. . . . The craftsmanship shows the master workman. . . . The imagery is all one could ask. The treatment is skilled. The sentiment one that will appeal to millions. There is one line that is worthy of the old masters-'The arching of a dream across the years.' A gifted writer might produce a whole volume and not write a line like that."
Louis returned to the United States in the late nineteen thirties, after years at sea. He moved in with his parents on a small farm near Choctaw, Oklahoma, that Parker, his brother, had bought for them a few years before. He was thirty years old, and knew that if he was ever going to make something of himself as a writer he had better get started. He began writing short story after short story but they almost always were rejected. I think that he must have felt very tempted to leave again, to go back to the kind of life he had lived before he settled down and forced himself to think about his future. You can feel that wanderlust calling to him in his poems, "I'm a Stranger Here," "Words From a Wanderer," and "I Shall Go Back." He even wrote about putting his old life behind him and facing his future in "Let Me Forget," the poem that he used to close the Yondering collection.
Earlier, he had taken a few stabs at poetry. In the beginning he didn't even know about rhyme and meter. A friend who read some of his attempts in the late twenties told him that "it didn't scan." He had no idea what she was talking about, but being Louis, hack to the library he went to read and reread Wordsworth, Browning, Tennyson, Frost, and Service, to discover just what it was that made a great poem.
During his travels he would occasionally compose poems, and it always seemed remarkable to me that he could both create and then remember them without writing them down; it seemed as if he could never forget a line or even a word. Louis explained that before the development of writing, poetry was one of the tricks ancient people used to remember stories. The rhyme and meter of each line would help you to remember the next. Because of this, poems that told a story, like those of Robert Service, were very popular with the hobos and sailors of his day. They were men with few possessions, some even illiterate, and so they were, in a way, like those ancient people who carried their literature in their heads.
One night in a ship's foc'stle, Louis had been trying to work out a particularly romantic poem when several of the other seamen began to tease him about only being able to write "love-stuff." After several hours of work he presented them with "My Three Friends,"
NEWLY COLLECTED POEMS
I Haven't Read Gone With The Wind
In Protest
Question
A Wail From a Pulpeteer
Old Jerry
Picture
Call Of The Tropics
The Gladiator
The Pioneer
Tranquillity
Twilight
Forest People
Winter Winds
Let It Snow
Then Came Spring
Rain
Mutation
To One Without Faith
Rose of Memory
Let Me Forget
*
INTRODUCTION by Kathy L'Amour
The first book Louis purchased for his own library was The Standard Book of British and American Verse. It was published in 1932 and much used and loved. It is still in our library, now in its second binding. Louis' love of poetry and the English language was so strong and important in his life that it carried him through many dangerous and lonely days. At the time, poetry was the expression of Louis' most important thoughts and feelings. It was the first manner in which he wrote about his life, his views and the places he had seen. Some of these poems got published in various newspapers and magazines, and though he made only a few dollars from these sales, they gave him the optimism to keep writing.
One of his most encouraging moments came in 1936, when he received a letter from George Riley Hall, the editor of the Daily Free-Lance, about his poem, "Banked Fires," which had just been published in the Daily Oklahoman.
A section of the letter read: ". . . The poem is exquisite. . . . The craftsmanship shows the master workman. . . . The imagery is all one could ask. The treatment is skilled. The sentiment one that will appeal to millions. There is one line that is worthy of the old masters-'The arching of a dream across the years.' A gifted writer might produce a whole volume and not write a line like that."
Louis returned to the United States in the late nineteen thirties, after years at sea. He moved in with his parents on a small farm near Choctaw, Oklahoma, that Parker, his brother, had bought for them a few years before. He was thirty years old, and knew that if he was ever going to make something of himself as a writer he had better get started. He began writing short story after short story but they almost always were rejected. I think that he must have felt very tempted to leave again, to go back to the kind of life he had lived before he settled down and forced himself to think about his future. You can feel that wanderlust calling to him in his poems, "I'm a Stranger Here," "Words From a Wanderer," and "I Shall Go Back." He even wrote about putting his old life behind him and facing his future in "Let Me Forget," the poem that he used to close the Yondering collection.
Earlier, he had taken a few stabs at poetry. In the beginning he didn't even know about rhyme and meter. A friend who read some of his attempts in the late twenties told him that "it didn't scan." He had no idea what she was talking about, but being Louis, hack to the library he went to read and reread Wordsworth, Browning, Tennyson, Frost, and Service, to discover just what it was that made a great poem.
During his travels he would occasionally compose poems, and it always seemed remarkable to me that he could both create and then remember them without writing them down; it seemed as if he could never forget a line or even a word. Louis explained that before the development of writing, poetry was one of the tricks ancient people used to remember stories. The rhyme and meter of each line would help you to remember the next. Because of this, poems that told a story, like those of Robert Service, were very popular with the hobos and sailors of his day. They were men with few possessions, some even illiterate, and so they were, in a way, like those ancient people who carried their literature in their heads.
One night in a ship's foc'stle, Louis had been trying to work out a particularly romantic poem when several of the other seamen began to tease him about only being able to write "love-stuff." After several hours of work he presented them with "My Three Friends,"
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