Papyrus (Ezra Pound)

I am tired and was at first relieved that today's poem by Ezra Pound was so immediate.

The whole thing, title included, is 9 syllables long. It's indecipherable, but when I Googled the last word "gongula" (since it brought no image to mind) I learned that the three words that makes up this poem are from a poem by Sappho.

Knowing that one fact about the poem gives enough context to see why this little bit counts as poetry. It's an homage and historical and the three words sum all I need to know about Gongula (a person, apparently) - the longing, the hope contained in Spring, the fragility of papyrus. From these I can get a sense of who he may of been; I get a sense of Sappho's original poem; and I get a sense of what Ezra Pound's is doing.

Poetry is all about compression. Waste no words. Perhaps, then this 3 word poemlet is as complete as need-be.

Favorite line: "Too long . . . . . ."

Too long . . . . . .

Room in Antwerp (Laure-Anne Bosselaar)

I think I love this poem by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. I've never heard the poem before nor of the poet, but what's expressed in this poem is so native to me it's odd to think it's the first time I've read it.

The aspect of a thing without you, your presence. What's to a thing like that? That line about knowing only a corner of their room. Yes. There is so much unseen and unknown and guessed at and described (in poetry) only by feeling. Can't you find the world in only that corner? Maybe that's what she means by "[I] still don't know how to understand / that word only". I simply love this poem.

Favorite line: "Dust covers the window, but light slips through -- / it always does"

Dust covers the window, but light slips through—
it always does - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23559#sthash.ZVHG5uah.dpuf

still don't know how to understand
that word onlyst

Do not go gentle into that good night (Dylan Thomas)

Do not go gentle into that good night (do check out the audio recording on the page too. It's wonderful!) by Dylan Thomas was probably the first poem I ever remember analyzing. Well, kind of.

My mom and I were at home and I was reading her the poem - we had read it in school maybe or perhaps it was in a book I took from the self. I was in 6th or 7th grade and was reciting it because it sounded neat - with all the repetition (hey, hey villanelle!).

I had finished the poem and then my mom asked "what do you think it means?". No one had asked me so bluntly - in school whenever we did a unit on poetry it was to identify the similes or count the number of metaphors or something like that.

I faltered and then haltingly, sputtered "Um, (big uncertain pause) .......death?"

And ding, ding, ding, correct! And fathers/sons and old age and missed chances and regrets and funerals and grief and love.

Do you remember when you first (or early on) took a stab at poetry analysis? What poem got you going?

Favorite line: "Because their words had forked no lightning they / Do not go gentle into that good night."

Round (James Hoch)

Round by James Hoch

It's late and I read the poem quickly, but in that I got that this poem is really just a description of roundness. Perhaps I totally missed the point, but all of the images and lines seem to reflect either roundness or the sentiment of round.

That roundness is both whole/complete and young and just beginning.

I think it's a great thing to write about. It's also pretty hard, I think, to think of a dozen images that bring to mind triangular or spherical. Those would be pretty cool writing prompts.

Favorite line: "It is no bird, / though you envy the song/ you hear only after it’s gone"

Poetry (Monica Ferrell)

Today's poem by Monica Ferrell is an ars poetica! (That's a poem about poetry.)

It's also a sonnet at 14 lines. It's fine as a poem, but it's not surprising; it does not take a new angle on things (for me, that is). So, therefore, I find it to be a rather boring poem.

I'm a little uncertain why the last line has that triplicate rhyme/assonance. It's  cool in that it does signify the end of the poem, but it seems so much lighter in tone and out of place. I guess it is there as a nod to poetic form (perhaps, the ars poetica and sonnet are other nods).

Favorite line: "I am not afraid of mirrors or the future"

I am not afraid of mirrors or the future

By the Waters of Babylon [V. Currents] (Emma Lazarus)

Emma Lazarus, the poet of today's poem, is the author of that short poem on the Statue of Liberty - 'give me your tired/your poor' (that's from memory and probably not correct).

I do not like the poem today though. I don't know. From the title I get that there are at least 4 other parts to it. I think knowing those would help better explain what is going on in this poem.

So I feel as though I cannot evaluate it since I don't know what it is trying to say. I also have no idea why this poem's lines are numbered 1-7. Anyone else know?

Sorry, today's poem is a bust for me.

Favorite line: "the voice of Rachel mourning for her children"

the voice of Rachel mourning for her children

At the Archaeological Institute of America's Annual Meeting (Ernest Hilbert)

Teehee!! Can't you just picture the crowd described in this poem by Ernest Hilbert? I've never been to an archaeological conference, but what he describes is pretty spot-on for the conferences I have been to.

It's 14 lines - sonnet, but there is no rhyme or particular meter I can find. So it's a modern sonnet, but I like that true-to-form, this sonnet too has a turn at the end. To begin, he's just describing the crowds, the attendees of the meeting. But then at the end, he takes a jab by saying that no matter what they do (and it doesn't seem like he is very impressed by what they are doing) they will before too long die and potentially be the subject matter for future archaeologists. I like that symmetry.

Favorite line: "Veering, talk to talk, they discuss ancient glory, / Building careers, then joining their quarry."

Muffin of Sunsets (Elaine Equi)

The title of this poem by Elaine Equi is nonsensical and many lines of the poem are too. I normally don't like things like that, but in this poem I find them to be very good at describing the kind of sunset that you might see among the gray and close-knit buildings of a city.

The last line is humorous and it definitely sticks out since the rest is so straight and sentimental. I think it is needed though or else the poem would turn out sappy.

Favorite line: "It is almost catastrophic how heavenly."

It is almost catastrophic how heavenly.

It is almost catastrophic how heavenly.

Because There Is No Ending (Pimone Triplett)

Because There Is No Ending by Pimone Triplett

I didn't care for this poem until it became clear to me that through the nature talk, it was a poem about a neighbor's brain cancer and how they and their family and the N of the poem deal with that.

Then I found the talk about nature endearing since it is a way of hiding from a devastating truth and a way of seeking order out of meaninglessness. And the last line is so perfect and so crushing. It's below:

Favorite line: "Everyone loves hard as they can, / like it helps."

Little Errand (Brian Teare)

Little Errand by Brian Teare

This poem is long and non-linear. It's not sentence-like which is perhaps odd since it's all about grammar. It's also not a funny poem, though to write about grammar, verbs and nouns, is pretty unusual and seems to call for lite verse.

It's clever, but it also doesn't impress me overly. Not my style. Oh well. Still I can appreciate the neatness of it.

Favorite line: "The way / the river banks / its flood, floods / its banks"

sugar is smoking (Jason Schneiderman)

A short one today by Jason Schneiderman.

Depressing, ain't it? Death is in all things - even good things are just a prelude. That the things that make life worth living contain traces of death. So life = death. Geez. Wahwah.

Favorite line: "it's amazing how death"

Going Back to Bimble (Maurice Manning)

Long day; very tired. Just fair warning for this day's 'talk' about this poem by Maurice Manning.

It's a travel poem! It tells of a journey - that, if the places are real, you could replicate yourself. I don't like the last few lines - the wrap-up and the final, repeated line, but the pace of the poem is nice and easy-to-read.

Favorite line: "God spread out anywhere"

News from Harlem (Kwame Dawes)

I like this poem by Kwame Dawes.

I normally shy away from lengthy poems, but this one was so story-like. It instantly drew me in and kept my attention. It was not difficult to read, nor did it have convoluted grammar.

It talks of race and history and legend.

I would like to hear the poem read aloud. I think that could only add to its dramatic presence.

Favorite line: "one of / those black men you know never / had a doubt that he is a man and strong"

Song (James Joyce)

For real?! I did not know that James Joyce wrote poetry. Today's poem is very light and frilly.

It doesn't remind me of his prose work, but it's pleasant enough. There is not much to sink into in this poem - nothing real/tangible. I can't really picture the love - what she might look like. Like I said, it's nice enough but I want more.

Favorite line: "My love is in a light attire"

December Love (Randy Blasing)

It's a lovely warm, near-summer day today in CA, but today's poem by Randy Blasing is firmly set in wintertime.

Some of the line breaks strike me as incorrect - they make me misread the grammatical sentence (ex. "from where I made the gesture you would find"). It makes the poem seem a little less polished - and maybe that's intentional - maybe that's the voice of N, a lover who is lost. 

I like that one image (the ice-drawn heart on the car window) carries the whole poem and that it is both a physical thing and a symbolic one - an image that represents the relationship and N's own heart. 

Favorite line: "My heart goes / with you, it said before it melted down"

Nothing Twice (Wislawa Szymborska)

This poem by Wislawa Szymborska is listed as a graduation poem. I guess that's accurate - it's about starting anew and how nothing is repeated so take nothing for granted and appreciate all. It could be for graduation or for any life altering event. Say having a child or quitting smoking.

While the poem seems quick didactic (I wish "I" was in it more), I really like how it is written. The comparisons she makes. Not too much pure imagery, but engaging nonetheless.

Favorite line: "Today is always gone tomorrow."

Water Picture (May Swenson)

I am tiiiiired today, but I find this poem by May Swenson to be calming and uncomplicated.

She describes a scene I think everyone has seen in some variety: objects reflected in water only to be disrupted when the water is disturbed.

Favorite line: "Chimneys / are bent legs bouncing / on clouds below."

Chimneys are bent legs bouncing on clouds below.

Blue Hanuman (Joan Larkin)

Blue Hanuman by Joan Larkin

Could this be called a sonnet? It is 14 lines....

At any rate, it can be called an ekphacsis poem since it is describing something "dashed by the artist on cheap paper."

I like the poem since I can clearly imagine the painting from her words. I also like the one personal line near the end. Perhaps that makes it not quite a rigid ekphacsis, but I like that humanizing bit in this poem about gods.

Favorite line: "A four-armed flutist"

dashed by the artist on cheap paper.

dashed by the artist on cheap paper.

Field (Erin Belieu)

Personally, I don't know how to write a poem that isn't in standard stanzas and poetic lines. Usually, I find other versions to just be affected. I like that in today's poem by Erin Belieu the lines remind me of crops in the field she is describing. Could you harvest these words?

I like that you get the sense of crops and the Southern Delta from this poem. Those few lines in italics make me think of a blues song. I like the poem's sense of waiting in a field and finding in the field - a place where nature and man's handiwork are combined. Perhaps, like a poem - both organic-feeling and yet totally controlled/manufactured. 

Favorite line: "you are sounding. Go home."

To My Mother (Christina Rossetti)

While yesterday's poem  was kind of mother-y (more death-y), today's poem by Christina Rossetti is actually appropriate for today's holiday.

It's short, sweet, well written and rhyming. Not a whole lot more to talk about, but still it's good to find accessible poems for certain occasions.

Favorite line: "To-day's your natal day"

To-day's your natal day

Before the Birth of One of Her Children (Anne Bradstreet)

I suppose poets.org considers this poem by Anne Bradstreet to be an appropriate Mother's Day poem.

And, well, kind of, I guess. Yes, it's about motherhood, but considering that the mother in the poem dies during childbirth (or is, at least, anticipating doing so) it doesn't seem the best poem to celebrate motherhood.

It's well written, with even lines and 10 syllables apiece (the meter is almost perfect iambs, but not 100% - but I am notoriously bad with figuring out meter, so you may want to check me on that). Go, Anne Bradstreet!

Favorite line: "Let be interred in my oblivious grave"

Let be interred in my oblivious grave;

Inspiration (Hailey Leithauser)

Today's poem is by Hailey Leithauser.

It's a word-filled, fun poem about the spark of inspiration. She must have had fun in writing this poem; many of the lines/images just seem to roll off the tongue or out of one's imagination.

It kind of reminds me of the poem Art by Herman Melville - in that it is quick in reading and fun with its words and that it is about creativity and the writing of poetry.

Favorite line: "Some flim-flam grand slam, glitchy / as religion, this is, with its chronic/ key-and-padlock"

Time (Chris Martin)

I am back - back from vacation and back from a lack of Internet (though that may not be the case for long. Comcast is not my friend.) Today's poem is Time by Chris Martin.

I don't quite know what the poem is about, but I don't get that it is trying to tell a story, exactly. There are some awesome images and word choices and I liked reading the thing - all those repeated words. I enjoy the feel of the poem. I get a sense of writing (the art of it) from it.

Favorite line: "I make / voice, voice, voice, voices / like a fist / on thinking's door"

I make

voice, voice, voice, voices

like a fist

on thinking’s door - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23537#sthash.19ivB2Lg.dpuf

MIA

My Internet is still non functioning! Laaaaame!!!!! But also it was such a pain writing yesterday's post so I'm not going to fight it. No poem post today. I'll write a new one, hopefully, tomorrow. "See" you tomorrow.