Meeting with My Father in the Orchard (Homero Aridjis)

Meeting with My Father in the Orchard by Homero Aridjis.

This poem sets the meaning very early - in the first line - by using 'past' twice, with two meanings. Later and further. And then with the father's dementia, it's like a second childhood. A forgetfulness that tends toward role reversal between children and parents. Is the child a parent? Is the parent a child? Is it later or further? Past or past?

Favorite line: "my living presence"

my living presence

the great american yellow poem (Frances Chung)

'The great american yellow poem' (by Frances Chung) is rather short, only 8 lines, and rather monochromatic - awfully yellow. But I suppose that's to be expected from the title.

GIS for Ochre

I like tracing a life through moments of similarity. Here - color is the binding, but I wonder if any item or thought would do.

You get a sense of N's culture and the spaces N inhabited. The last line makes me wonder why N only lived a yellow life and wouldn't even vary the teensiest bit (over to 'ochre' or 'citronella'). Is it pleasing - the quality of sameness or is it a (racist) nod to N's ethnicity?

Favorite line: "she learned to name forsythia where it grew"

she learned to name forsythia where it grew

Sonnet - To Science (Edgar Allan Poe)

To Science!! First, I LOVE the idea of this poem by Edgar Allan Poe. It makes me laugh to imagine addressing the whole subject - the entirety of all - in 14 lines. And what questions! They are almost whiny. As if science is the unraveling of all of fiction and poetry. And I guess that is a classic argument. One I find incredibly stupid. Ha (not to mince words!). I mean, science is all about trying to answer questions. And so is literature. They are just two ways of seeking order out of the chaos of everything that happens and is seen.

Sorry, Poe, I just don't buy your argument.

Favorite line: "Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart"

Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart

Books (Gerald Stern)

I feel like I should know the poet Gerald Stein, but I think I am confusing him for a different author. Ah well, no matter, his poem today is truly a short story.

A story of the frigid qualities of winter and of walking in winter - how your eyes freeze and your breath catches heavy in the air. I like that this poem seems to be just a telling of the physicality of winter, but for that one almost-hidden line about "dirty tears". There is an emotional story here. The library - earlier seen as just a warm hole to escape the weather - suddenly takes on the vestige of a sanctuary. What a burrow a book is - escape from the physical cold and escape from the emotional storms of life, as well.

What a wonder a book is!

 

Favorite line: "or maybe it was / reversus"

My First Memory (of Librarians) (Nikki Giovanni)

The straightforward honesty of this poem by Nikki Giovanni is, for me, its strongest asset. I just love the unvarnished look at what could have been a sickly sweet reminiscence of her first memory of libraries. 

I like that color is such a strong part of this poem - in that the memory seems to be supersaturated. It's very visual - despite the poem's lack of flowery language.

But I dunno, there is little to keep me entranced on the reread. So it is fine. It is sweet and it is comforting. But I wish it had more, I guess.

Favorite line: "The welcoming smile of my librarian"

The welcoming smile of my librarian

Peyton Place: A Haiku Soap Opera [Excerpt] (David Trinidad)

Hee, it's a series of haiku (by David Trinidad)!

The gaps between the haiku remind me of the *blitz* of changing channels. I love how automatically each haiku brings to mind daytime television. All those references and allusions. It's actually pretty cool.

I don't know why I use excerpts for this blog. I always end on the same note - namely, that since I don't have the whole shlog I wonder how my 'talk' can get at anything in this poem. Since I only have a piece, isn't my 'talk' only piecemeal as well? By definition......

Anyway, this excerpt is amusing enough and I have enjoyed looking at this poem. Technically awesome and all that chatter about ditzy day-time tv makes me wonder about the bigger take of art and poetry and commercial appeal.

Favorite line: "I do not know which / to prefer: Shakespeare quote or / pillow fight after."

My Childhood (Matthew Zapruder)

A grand title for this poem by Matthew Zapruder, but the poem reads simply and clear-eyed.

Each line seems almost like a distinct memory flash from childhood. It was like the poet just wrote the title and then recorded the first 10 or so images that came to mind. The collection of them is comforting and suburban. It reads like an adult thinking of being a child - the words/grammar are easy to understand (childish), but the mood and overall sense between the images is graver, more adult.

Favorite line: "the mother comes home and finds the child animal sleeping"

Sonnet Substationally Like the Words of F Rodriguez One Position Ahead of Me on the Unemployment Line (Jack Agueros)

Wow, that is one long title for today's poem by Jack Agüeros. Long like the seemingly endless line at the unemployment office, perchance?

I like the tone of this poem - the ridiculousness of bureaucracy and how not having a job can feel like a job in and of itself. It's simultaneously serious and hilarious.

I hadn't heard of the poet before tonight, but I really like this poem - it's well written and polished, political and yet human in nature and a hoot and yet bone dry serious at the same time. Cool cool.

Favorite line: "The faster you spin, the stiller you look. / There's something to learn in that, but what?"

But Men Loved Darkness Rather Than Light (Richard Crashaw)

I'd never heard of this poet before, but he's from the 1600s, so it would seem as though I should have. In this short poem of his, there is some rhyming, few images or 'pretty' language and, honestly, it seems rather like a puritan lesson. A be careful what you wish for, kind of thing.

Honestly, it's pretty boring. No?

Favorite line: "shine as it will"

Drunken Winter (Joseph Ceravolo)

It's a silly, slight of a poem by Joseph Ceravolo.

I like the drunk feeling of the random pairing of words and the sloppy s sounds. I also like the preponderance of nouns - the solid footholds in the poem - "oak", "paddle", "sky", "flea", "geese", "boy", "winter".

Favorite line: "Oak oak! Like like"

E. H. (John Koethe)

I've never seen Follies. I'm not 49. Nor am I 62. And yet, this poem by John Koethe explains exactly what I have been feeling lately. I don't really have more words, but to say that this poem is great and I really appreciate the first few lines since I've been trying to write lately and I too "search for ways in and can't find them."

Thanks for this one.

Favorite line: "I (whichever I this is) saw Follies last year."

I (whichever I this is) saw Follies last year.

A Crocodile (Thomas Lovell Beddoes)

A sonnet (by Thomas Lovell Beddoes) about a crocodile!

I wish it were as cute as it potentially could be. However, it reads stiffly (but with plenty of SAT vocab!) and despite having the occasional good phrase/description it really is as dreary as its oh so boring title.

Favorite line: "lightsomely flew"

lightsomely flew

Nonsense Alphabet (Edward Lear)

Again, I am le tired, but I couldn't resist this charming poem by Edward Lear.

It's like a primer for kindergarteners. I read it aloud (of course!) and the gait is so pleasant and fun. The little rejoinders of the lower case letters almost seem smirking they are so quick and sharp.

Delightful! It would go so well with illustration -- it simply must exist in that form somewhere. But even without pictures, the words are charming enough!

Favorite line: "I was some ice / So white and so nice, / But which nobody tasted; / And so it was wasted."

I I was some ice So white and so nice, But which nobody tasted; And so it was wasted. i All that good ice! - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/22065#sthash.bArLvCsw.dpuf

Everyone Is Asleep (Enomoto Seifu-jo)

I am super-exhausted, so I went looking for a sleep poem and found this delightful haiku by Enomoto Seifu-jo.

"Everyone is asleep" and I hope to join that group very very soon. I like that in sleep neither the terrestrial ("everyone") nor the celestial ("the moon") can invade your sleeping form.

Deep, restful sleep. Is calm like this poem. Is satisfying like this poem.

Favorite line: "The moon and me."

Marriage (William Carlos Williams)

A short poem by William Carlos Williams.

It's a metephor, I suppose. Or a math equation. Marriage = man + woman = stream + field.

Both man and woman are unique individuals as a stream and field are unique entities, but both are needed to complete the scene, to make a marriage.

This poem seems fine, but also seems lazy.  I don't feel deeply as I read. I am not inspired by unique descriptors. Dunno, seems kind of dull to me.

Favorite line: "so different, this man"

So different, this man

Why Poetry Can Be Hard For Most People (Dorothea Lasky)

This poem by Dorothea Lasky gives me the shivers. Its talk of ghosts and its common language and its calm, kind tone as it explains why poetry is difficult and why reading and writing it can be hard and why relationships between people and between the past and present are so tangled and so complicated is why I think I love this poem.

Favorite line: "Because speaking to the dead is not something you want to do / When you have other things to do in your day"

Because speaking to the dead is not something you want to do
When you have other things to do in your day - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23690#sthash.8WxQ0MXc.dpuf

Grandfather Says (Ai)

So it's neither food nor drink related, but today's poem by Ai is domestic and dark.

It's a story of a poem. Very simply told in prosy language. It's a chilling poem with its childish game of hide-and-seek contrasting with pedophilia and incest. I have a hard time dealing with the language or poetic merit of the thing, because of its emotional impact. I do wonder why this is a poem instead of written out in prose. Why isn't it an essay or article? Would the impact be lessened?

Favorite line: "It's after dinner playtime."

A Pot of Tea (Richard Kenney)

Wee! One more drink poem. Yesterday was coffee, today tea. "A Pot of Tea" by Richard Kenney.

It IS about tea, but it's also about sharks and about thoughts/connections. However, as I read I keep being distracted by the inexpert rhyming. It often clangs and is noticeable when it should be quite the opposite.

I love tea and was pretty happy to find this tea poem, but ugh I kind of hate this one. It's boring, but trying to be special. The rhyme is dull (and clangs!); the shark connection is bizarre; the idea being developed is not interesting. I truly dislike this poem.

Favorite line: "And the future's in Darjeeling --"

—

And the future’s in Darjeeling—

Time Study (Marvin Bell)

Maybe I should do a week of drink related poems. This one by Marvin Bell would definitely count.

It starts with a cup of coffee and then goes like a random thought in your mind - looping, but there does seem to be some forward motion/some method to the madness, but really if you look very close it's one giant mess. It's nonsensical, but you swear you think there is something to it.

And that's how I feel about today's poem. It's a great read - all that repetition. And at the same time, it seems to say nothing and yet something profound too. It's really rather marvelous how it accomplishes that. Cool cool. I just love the way this poem rambles.

Favorite line: "The coffee was cold so I said so. I said, "

The coffee was cold so I said so. I said,

The light of a candle (Yosa Buson)

Haiku is fun, no? Sweet, short poems - extremely distilled language - about poetic and poetry can be. Neh? I dunno. I have a fondness for them. Today's entry is a haiku by Yosa Buson.

It has superb visuals. It names the season. It links nature to a human experience. It wastes not a word. It uses a word's double meaning ("springs") to add a 2nd layer to the poem.

But, sadly, despite its key-on haiku-ic nature, I can't really get enthused about this poem. It doesn't strike me as interesting or unusual. It just seems fine to me. Technically, fine, but lacking spark (for me). How about for you?

Favorite line: "spring twilight"

spring twilight.

Wedding Cake (Naomi Shihab Nye)

Okay, so I am cheating. 1) I didn't post a food-related poem (or any poem, for that matter) yesterday and 2) today's entry (by Naomi Shihab Nye) has a food title, but there isn't really food in the poem itself.

Instead, this poem is a little story - about how a woman got stuck with an infant while the mother went to the airplane's bathroom to change. She becomes fascinated with the child, starts to feel the pangs of motherhood - the caring, the worries, the hopes.

Instead, this poem seems to say that the whole of something can be distilled and smooshed into something more compact and meaningful. How the child knows "the small finger / was funnier than the whole arm"; how the poem's narrator can feel connected to the child, for life, in less than an hour; how a poem less than 50 lines can explain a mother/child bond and paint the portrait of an infant; how this poem shows the wonder of poetry - full stories and prose-y truths in their most condensed forms. 

Favorite line: "I read new new new."

the small finger was funnier than the whole arm.

the small finger was funnier than the whole arm.vv

Chocolate Milk (Ron Padgett)

Who doesn't love a tall glass of chocolate milk?? Poet Ron Padgett sure does! 

He also loooves exclamation points! Teehee! It's such a cute poem with such a cute voice. It's a childish poem and is sweet in precisely the way that a glass of chocolate milk is - simple, sugary and full of giddy love. Wee!

Favorite line: "Oh God! It’s great!"

Coolness of the melons (Matsuo Basho)

One more food related poem. Today's is a haiku by Basho. It's translated by Robert Hass. I actually got to go to a reading he (a pretty good poet in his own right) performed at.

It's a great poem because it brings to mind melon in a country field.  So few syllables and yet a full, emotionally-charged view of such a rustic scene.

It is comforting and picturesque.

Favorite line: "flecked with mud"

Wine Tasting (Kim Addonizio)

What luck! The poem of the day on poets.org today is food related. Wine Tasting by Kim Addonizio.

Okay, so maybe not food, but drink is close enough. This poem starts by comparing wine to some of the more common comparisons. This wine tastes of 'cracked leather' and 'cherries'. Then it goes a bit more broad - wine yields talk of poets and human relations. She then seems to say that these connections, like the buzz from the wine she's drinking, will soon end. However, that doesn't stop one from tasting or trying it all.

Favorite line: "the moon dove / in the river"

the moon dove
in the river

Strawberrying (May Swenson)

Food themed poetry. Who knew there were so many? Today's poem by May Swenson is about picking fresh strawberries. Yum!

I'd guess that food is such a ripe (to use a related term) subject for a good poem since food is essential, primal and it is linked to lust and love and life and creation and destruction. 

In the poem, picking strawberries comes across as very violent what with her hands being "murder-red" and the fruits with their "bleed" and "rot". It's a contrast with the poem's only other subjects - children on a shore vacation with their mother.

Maybe her way of talking about strawberry picking is supposed to reflect the unexpected intrusion of violence on ordinary life? The inescapable darker side?

After all, at the end, if you pick a strawberry which is too mushy, too soft, you just abandon it to the ground to rot. You've got to see the darkness in life to avoid such a fate yourself. Don't get soft since the soft ones are abandoned and left to rot.

Seems awfully dark. Shoot.

Favorite line: "Ripeness / wants to be ravished"

This Is Just To Say (William Carlos Williams)

Continuing the food theme, today's is This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams which talks about plums (a gorgeous, delicious fruit).

It's short and sweet and tartly funny (eh, just like a plum - sweet/tart??). The language is plain and basic. It almost reads like a hand written note instead of a polished poem.

Its confessional tone is endearing and forgiveness is automatic. How could you be mad at someone who has such a child-like response to beauty? 'I had to have them - they were so meant to eaten, so perfect and so beautiful ('so sweet and so cold')'.

Favorite line: "Forgive me / they were delicious"

Forgive me they were delicious