Denise Levertov reading a selection of six poems.
Voices from the Grave #36: Denise Levertov Reading a Selection of Six Poems
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Tag Archives: Performance
Voices from the Grave #34: Mae West on Mr. Ed
Yes, I’m serious with this one. Mae West wasn’t just a performer; she was also a playwright and screenwriter. Whether you love or hate her, she still fits the bill for inclusion here.
Mae West on Mr. Ed in March 1964, when she was 70. This is the full episode, so feel free to skip ahead to the tasty/ridiculous bits.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeUUoUY_YwA
Voices from the Grave #29: James Joyce Reading from Ulysses
James Joyce reading from Ulysses, 1924.
Voices from the Grave #28: E.E. Cummings Reading ‘somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond’
E.E. Cummings reading somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond.
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me
Voices from the Grave #26: Truman Capote Reading an Excerpt from ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’
Truman Capote reading an excerpt from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. From April 7, 1963.
How old is W. Somerset Maugham?
Voices from the Grave #22: Sylvia Plath Reading ‘The Stones’
‘The Stones’ by Sylvia Plath.
This is the city where men are mended
Voices from the Grave #18: Ezra Pound Reading ‘Hugh Selwyn Mauberley’
‘Hugh Selwyn Mauberley’ by Ezra Pound.
For three years, out of key with his time
Voices from the Grave #17: Diane di Prima Reading ‘April Fool Birthday Poem for Grandpa’
‘April Fool Birthday Poem for Grandpa’ by Diane di Prima.
For honestly weeping in time to innumerable heartbreaking Italian operas
(And, yes, Diane is still alive.)
Voices from the Grave #16: Langston Hughes Reading ‘The Dream Keeper’ and ‘Dreams’
‘The Dream Keeper’ and ‘Dreams’ by Langston Hughes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpjFS3CQkKE
Bring me all of your dreams, You dreamers
Voices from the Grave #15: T.S. Eliot Reading ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’
‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ by T. S. Eliot. The animation on this video is extremely odd and disturbing, much like the poet himself.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
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