Dear Friends (Edwin Arlington Robinson)

Dear Friends by Edwin Arlington Robinson.

Ah ha! When I read, I noted the rhymes and saw that they had a certain pattern. I looked it up and this poem is a Petrarchan sonnet! Very impressive. I had selected today's poem, not for its form, but because I liked what it said.

I can just picture his friends bemoaning his writing career. It's very sweet - their care - and very misdirected which is why I like his response to them in this poem - it's still sweet and kind, but also firm as he says 'lay off!'. Hehe. I loved the concluding two lines. Made me crack a smile.

Favorite line: "Dear friends, reproach me not for what I do"

Dear friends, reproach me not for what I do,

Richard Cory (Edwin Arlington Robinson)

Okay, so this is another cannon poem of Edwin Arlington Robinson (before I had talked about his Miniver Cheevy).

What I love about this poem is how I am reminded of the age I was when I first read it. I was in middle school and I was skimming along and was really stopped short by the last line which I had not foreseen. This poem is almost cliche by now it's so entrenched in common thought. It was even the source material for the same-named Simon and Garfunkel song. When I read this poem I am reminded of how dramatic reversals would always shock me, before I had read countless examples of this kind of twist.

So yeah, this poem is about how every single person on earth has troubles, but for me it's very reminiscent of the innocence of childhood.

Favorite line: "And he was always quietly arrayed,/And he was always human when he talked"

Miniver Cheevey (Edwin Arlington Robinson)

Oh, I do not like rhyme. I find it's fine for humor, but little else. And yet I like this poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson. Looking at his profile and a selection of his poetry I have to say that I am mildly in awe since he wrote three poems I consider part of cannon and all of them rhyme.

I think the type of person described in the poem exists. It is (perhaps unfairly) who I imagine to be typing rants in internet forums. Lusting after a past age where they are sure they could have been wonderful, brave, a stand-out, everything they are not currently.

Of course, with that kind of pressure on the perfection of days long past and allowance for not accomplishing anything in the present times it's no wonder that Miniver drinks and does nothing (in the same way that those internet posters merely rant online and yet enact no change in the real world).

Favorite line: "Miniver loved the Medici,/Albeit he had never seen one;/He would have sinned incessantly/Could he have been one."

An aside: "Miniver Cheevey" is a hilarious name and a near perfect one for a sniveling, wimpy, dreamy drunk.