Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Beautiful Dreamer Stephen Foster America's First Folk Song Writer

Beautiful Dreamer was written by Stephen Foster just before his death in 1864 at age 37. The Song became one of his most famous and most popular. However, as with the approximately 200 other Songs that Foster wrote during his brief lifetime, he did not receive the recognition or financial reward that he deserved.

Stephen Foster was Ame ricas first great Songwriter, yet he died with 38 cents in a leather poke and a scrap of paper on which he had written a bit of Song lyric, dear friends and gentle hearts.

Stephen Collins Foster was born near Pittsburgh on July 4, 1826, the same day that both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died. Foster died in 1864 when he suffered a fall at home while weak from fever. The fall cut open his head and he died in New Yorks Bellevue Hospital shortly thereafter. Foster had been suffering from alcoholism for years prior to his accidental death.

Young Stephen was able to play tunes on the guitar at age two, and at age ten he performed popular comic Songs with local boys. By age 18 he wrote blackface minstrel Songs which were the popular folk music of the day. At age 21 he composed the minstrel Song, Oh! Susanna, which became a hit, resung, repeated, and whistled across the country. In fact it became the unofficial anthem of the Cali fornia Gold Rush two years later.

Music publication was in its infancy in those days and music recording didnt even exist. Stephen Foster did not receive royalties or fees for the many publications or arrangements of Oh! Susanna over the next few years. Indeed, he gave away the rights to the Song and never received a penny for it.

Over the next ten years Foster wrote many Songs, including The Swanee River (Old Folks at Home), Camptown Races, Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair, Old Black Joe, Nelly Bly, Old Dog Tray, and My Old Kentucky Home. Stephen Foster earned a little money by selling his Songs outright, some for as little as one dollar. Its been said that his Songwriting earned him about $20,000 during the 15 or so years of his Songwriting career.

In 1935 Florida adopted The Swanee River as the official state Song, though Stephen Foster never visited Florida nor saw the river. He chose Swanee because the two syllables fit the music he had written. Foster sold E.P.Christy of the Christy Minstrels, a blackface minstrel show troupe, the authorship rights to The Swanee River, a regrettable decision.

The Song became a popular international folk tune and has been credited with starting the tourist industry in Florida. Beginning in the 1880s millions of people traveled to Florida to view the famous northern Florida river.

In 1928 Kentucky adopted My Old Kentucky Home as their of ficial state Song. In 1986 Kentucky changed the second line of the Song, Tis summer, the darkies are gay; to Tis summer, the people are gay; for obvious reasons.

Because of the popularity of My Old Kentucky Home and The Swanee River, many people have the impression that Stephen Foster was a southern gentleman. However, he visited the South on only one occasion, a steamboat trip to New Orleans in 1852.

Stephen Foster spent his life mostly in Pennsylvania and N ew York. His father, William Foster Sr., spent many years in politics, working for President Harrison and winning election to two terms as mayor of Allegheny, Pa.

Prior to the Civil War Stephen Foster helped James Buchanan become President by becoming the musical director of the Buchanan Glee Club and by writing musical pieces for the campaign effort.

During the Civil War Stephen Foster wrote about 70 Songs, mostly patriotic war Songs which sold poorly. During the war Fosters alcoholism deteriorated his health until his poverty-stricken death in 1864.

Two months after his death, Stephen Fosters Beautiful Dreamer was published in New York.

Beautiful Dreamer by Stephen Foster

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!

Beautiful dreamer, queen of my Song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, --
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.

Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, --
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

*****************************

Garry Gamber is a public school teacher and entrepreneur. He writes articles about real estate, health and nutrition, and internet dating services. He is the owner of http://www.Anchorage-Homes.com and http://www.TheDatingAdvisor.com.


Author:: Garry Gamber
Keywords:: Beautiful Dreamer, Stephen Foster, Foster, Song, Poem, Swanee River, Old Kentucky Home
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Beacon Verse Series Article One

I am but a Beacon,
Like a lighthouse in the storm;
So, when its a friend youre seekin,
Come on in, Ill keep you warm

Like a fleece,
I will enfold you
To protect you from the gale;
though release,
No, Ill not hold you,
When its time that you set sail
Beacon Verse Series Beacon 1977 (part one)

The above poem is the first page of Beacon Verse By Russ Miles which I published in 1977. Very well received within the loca l Portland, Oregon bookstores which I had set up for distribution I was ready to publish another 5,000 copies. I knew that the Limited Edition, hand numbered 1,000 copies would be sold out within a couple of months...

Then, I had what I call An attack of conscience. What if an unforgiving God were to hold me responsible for corrupting the minds and influencing the actions of innocents?

Frightening, purgatorial and worse images twisted my self-seeking, 29-year-old scruples. Id only seen pictures until that time of Dantes Inferno. Yet, having been raised a Catholic I knew that hell was hot and that the devil would administer no mercy.

I didnt pray back then. Certainly, I hadnt seen the inside of a confessional in years. I just hoped that I hadnt already done too much damage. Immediately, I removed all remaining copies of Be acon and my 2nd poetry book, Imperfections, from the market in early 1979. I felt my actions were consistent with the last Poems promise in my 48 page, Beacon poetry book as included below:

Beacon (part two)

When the waves break high around you,
And you fear you might capsize;
When the world is out to drown you,
And the storm clouds black your skies

When adrift
Upon lifes oceans
So, your waters all seem st range,
Eyes uplift,
Dispel such notions,
With Gods help, youll find your Range.

Russ Miles writes romance books, poetry, songs, ezine articles, and mystery thriller novels that often include some of his early poetry. One, FOR SALE BY OWNERS:FSBO ISBN 0-595-28703-4,in trade paperback,is available by phone or Internet:1-800-Authors to order direct!

In 2006, his remaining copies of Beacon and Imperfections are being sold through his personal website http://www.MilesBooks.com and via Poetry Book Orders MilesBooks@gmail.com

Comments: MilesRuss@gmail.com


Author:: Russ Miles
Keywords:: romance books,Beacon,Beacon verse,rhyming poetry,Imperfections,by russ miles,Dantes Inferno,Poems
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You Are In My Thoughts

Yet another Woe
Has made you Low
Facing Life without a smile.
If you ride the Storm
In whatever form
It will start to pass in a while.
Though the road you tread is a struggle
Seeking Light along your way
The Path will ease for you
At the start of each new day.
May your heart be healed and lifted
And let Sunshine dry your rain
Let the darkened Clouds around you pass
And may you enjoy your Life again.


My name is Joanne Hale, known as Jo by friends and family (except for my Mum, who still calls me Joanne note the two syllables Jo and anne always got me two smacks whenever I was naughty as a child!). I was born in Bristol in May 1970 and have lived in and around there all my Life. I married in 1999, which did not work out and ended in divorce less than a year later. I married for the second time in February 2001, to Peter, who I love with all my heart and soul we truly are soulmates. We currently have one cat. I have a really good imagination, which can sometimes be a hindrance, but it is what Helps me with inspiration to write my poetry, which I do as a form of relaxation and to give pleasure to others that read it. I write about everyday occurrences and events that have either happened to me or to others. I had my first poem published in a magazine when I was 10 years old since then I have had poems published in a variety of things, and over the past few years, quite a few in anthologies with Forward Press and others.

I have been writing poetry for many years and regu larly have it published in print. My poetry is published by Forward Press and in many other publications. So I'm now putting my poetry online. I publish my poetry on my Blog jo-hale-poetry at http://jo-hale-poetry.blogspot.com/ and on 8hop.com My poetry on 8hop.com. I also have information about my poetry at http://www.squidoo.com/jo-hale-poetry. I'm married to my husband Peter. I was born in May 1970 and am a Taurean star sign.


Author:: Joanne Hale
Keywords:: Woe, Low, Storm, Sadness, Depression, Hope, Help, Light, Path, Thoughts, Sunshine , Clouds, Life
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The Design

He is as I have crafted him. It is a Design borne from my Heart. From the place where true form springs forth. His image no longer veiled. He is a finished work, and is no longer concealed within the secret places of my mind. His Design is strong throughout, especially in the place where his Love for me lies. I have carefully lined it with my spirit so that it will be eternal. I have filled him with all the things that complete me. I have woven into his mind the intric ate pattern that is us; the creation of which we will make, with the years of our lives together.

He is passion, integrity, honesty, faithfulness, spirituality...He is the work of a young girls dreams, and the hopes of a woman, realized. He is not a perfect work, but his imperfections like my own are there as part of the Design. It is what makes him unique and real. I have worked with great diligence of mind, never losing focus on the realization of what I had birthed in my soul. I kept myself in readiness for the moment when my Design would be. For I never strayed from what was in my Heart. I knew the authenticity of it.

We were cut from the same cloth, and combined, we form a brilliant tapestry. I therefore refused to give in, and except works that were Designed for others. I would have only the genuine article. I could not and, would not except anything less than the one that was meant for me...

Faith McDermott is an aspiring writer, and the current webmaster for We Can-2 (http://www.wecan.internetbasedfamily.com) A site for women to network together to find information/resources to improve themselves, and each other.


Author:: Faith McDermott
Keywords:: Design, Heart, Love
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The Power of Eating Disorders

I want to get close

I am afraid.

Afraid of what you might see.

My eyes.

My thoughts.

My dreams.

My heart.

My soul.

Everything that makes me who I am.

My feelings.

My emotions.

The truth of my own reality.

The reality that I am scared.

Every second.

Every minute.

Every hour.

Every day.

Scared of not being perfect.

Scared of looking stupid.

Scared of being in the way.

Scared of getting comfortable.

Getting comfortable means stability,

Stability means forever.

I dread forever.

So, I am ready,

to move on,

to continue my journey,

To continue my life....

I AM READY!

Mary Pat uses her gift of poetry in hopes to help others find their own special gifts. http://www.reflectingrace.com


Author:: Mary Pat Nally
Keywords:: The Power of Eating Disorders, Anorexia Nervosa, Bulimia, Compulsive Overeating
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Sunday, November 13, 2011

Poetry "Reborn" Emerges In Thriller Mystery Novel

Since Mohamed Alithen Cassius Clayannounced that he had written The worlds shortest poem, I have known that I would be a poet. ME? WHEE! His triumphant proclamation evoking shivers within my troubled teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme.

Everyday, hundreds-of-thousands of seemingly sane souls satisfy some innate need to bare their concealed character via atrocious alliteration or in delusional doggerel. As in Kris Kristoffersons early works, the marvelous magic masquerades within sweet musical lyrics, providing us with eternal material transcending generational barriers.

Even if none but we are ever allowed to examine our hidden essence, an inner longing is unleashedonly to be squishedshould we presume to be published.

In1978, I self-published my first Poetry book, Beacon, to an enthusia stic reception of some uninformed who didnt reAlize, fearing rejection, I had never submitted my musings to somber publishers. After all, Rod McKuen, suffering countless rejections, had self-published. And he was saidat that timeto be, The worlds most widely read poet.

To the accolade of local yokel fans, the following year, I followed up with Imperfections, Verse by Russ Miles, songs and thoughts reflecting who, where, and what I wasat that time in my life. Even more well received, I was enjoying the affirmative attention of a metropolitan newspaper Poetry editor insisting that I co-chair a college invitational symposium for wantabe poets with the State Poet LaTourette. My books selling well, a youthful, insatiable ego was being satisfactorily stroked.

Then, a strange thing happened. I caught a case of conscience. What if an unforgiving God held me accountable for my wanton actions or the impact of foisting my unholy understandings upon innocents?

Frightening purgatorialor worsereprisal prospects triggered instantaneous actions. Removing all remaining copies from the marketplaces which I had developed for distribution, I stopped penning Poetry for the next twenty-five years.

Disabled at age fifty-three by Multiple Sclerosis, I found myself writing another book, For Sale By Owners:FSBO. A mystery thriller Novel evolved offering some insights that only a self-absorbed, worldly man of three messed-upped marriages could possibly convey.

I continue learning that God is so forgiving. How He can inspire good to come of all things. Even some of my old songs are once more awaiting discovery thanks to the song-writing, truck-driving character appearing between the FSBO covers.

By todays standards, Red Harings vivid verse words and wayward rhyme renderings are no longer abysmal. Rather they reflect the subtle Its all about me immoral fiber of a masculine malewrestling with post 9-11 internal issueschoosing to make changes in his so self-consumed life. Reds songs emerge to stimulate reflections within Brooklyn Best, the no-saint heroine, real estate Agent with whom he becomes romantically involvedwhile being knitted together to unravel some horrific homicidesin this reAlity based Novel. Through its use in a sub-plot, my Poetry is being Reborn.

As for Beacon and Imperfections, perhaps Ill offer my few remaining hand signed & numbered First Edition & Limited Edition Poetry books on e-Bay. After all, John GrishaMs originally published Novels are now collectors iteMs arent they?

Free-Reprint Article Written by: Russ Miles See TerMs of Reprint Below.

A rticle Copyright: 2005

Author Contact Email: mailto:MilesRuss@Gmail.com

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TERMS OF REPRINT - Publication Rules

This is a Free-Reprint article. The only requirements for publishing this article are:

* You must leave the article and resource box unedited. You are not allowed to change the content of the article. Reformatting is permitted as necessary.

* You may not use this article in UCE (Unsolicited Commercial Email). Email distribution of this article MUST be opt-in email only.

* We ask that you forward a copy of the ezine or newsletter that contains the article inside to the Author at: MilesRuss@Gmail.com

* If you post this article on a website, you MUST set any URL's or Mailto addresses in the body of the article and most especially in the Author's Resource Box as hyperlinks. We request that you also send us a copy of the URL where you have posted this art icle.

If you utilize this article in a printed magazine, or on paper publication, please snail mail a copy in full to Russ Miles 410 W 13th Street #807 Vancouver, WA 98660.

If you find any of the rules to be unsavory or unacceptable, please do not publish this article. While we are happy to make the content available to you for your own use, we must insist on having our rules and *TerMs of Reprint* honored in full.

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Russ Miles is the Author of the Novel, For Sale By Owners:FSBO. Seasoned Real Estate NAR Broker Disabled by Multiple Sclerosis, FOR SALE BY OWNERS:FSBO ISBN 0-595-28703-4,in trade paperback, is available by phone or Internet:1-800-Authors to order direct! Very HOTLINK Adobe e-book & hard cover editions also available FSBO at Amazon.com at Barnes and Noble and other fine booksellers.

Comments: MilesRuss@Gmail.com.

Personal referrals to his publisher


Autho r:: Russ Miles
Keywords:: Poetry,FSBO,Multiple Sclerosis,Disabled,Author, Russ Miles, MS,Realtor,Reborn,Beacon,Novel,Agent,Ali
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I Was Not Looking

Sometimes, you find freinds, you did not know would teach you so much. You did not know, there were no road signs, that this person, this very person in front of you, was going to give you answers to Questions you did not even know were nagging, in your subconscience. Then, like opening a door, to vast resources, answers, feelings, things start to unfold. They may stay in your life, or they may just pass through, but our lives should be blessed by many such friends.

I was not looking
When I found you.
I did not know the Questions,
Yet, you knew the answers.
I had no true Measure
Of how lost I was-
When you helped me
Out of the Darkness.
I did not know
How really Sad I was-
Till you gave me Reasons to Smile.
I thought I was so strong
To hold back the Tears.
You showed me I was stronger still
To let the Sadness go.
I truly thought
Part of my soul had died.
You woke that part
Of me that was sleeping.
I thought I had
Nothing left to say.
Yet, you are always ready
To listen.
I did not see
How anxious I had become.
You helped me find
New ways to see joy.
I cam here
Full of hatred and anger.
And you taught me
The value of really letting go.
Id forgotten the true meaning
Of friendship.
When you helped
To set me straight.
Id almost given up
And thrown in the towel-
When you convinced me
I can still win!

4/12/03

About the Author:

Deborah Coss, has been writing since 8 years old, getting published off and on since 15, and finally realized her childhood dream, of carrying press credentials, working for http://www.womanmotorist.com A diverse writer, publishing several business type sites, she now publishes her own site, http://www.1kindthing.com, creates some fine arts, and loves photography, commenting she is a social portraiture photographer and prefers the medium of black and white.

In art, she has a very constructionist attitude, and enjoys making masks, and other 3 dimensional objects. On a personal side, she survived an extremly violent childhood, some serious trauma, including being crushed by a car at age 3 and half. Thus, her site 1kindthing.com, tells of overcoming hardships, in her many styles of writing. She is a baby boomer, raised in Southern California, bi-lingual in Spanish, descened from French, German, English and American Indian bloodlines. Coss finds words fun, and communication an art.


Author:: Deborah Coss
Keywords:: Deborah Coss, was not looking, Questions, Measure, helped me, Darkness, Sad, Reasons, Smile, Tears
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