Coda (Ezra Pound)

The end of a long day, so today's is the appropriately titled 'Coda' by Ezra Pound.

Three (long) lines makes me wonder if you could call this a haiku - an nontraditional one for sure.

Anyway, I like what he is wondering in this poem. If a poem, if art, looks for meaning in all (the wrong?) places does it, perhaps, miss the beauty of the thing itself (the peoples' faces) for the hidden meaning it sees within?

Favorite line: "O my songs"

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 . . . . . .

In a Station of the Metro (Ezra Pound)

It's been a long day. I was searching for short forms on poets.org when I discovered this famous poem by Ezra Pound listed under haiku. I had never considered this a haiku. Nor am I clear about how poets.org put it in that category. Haiku is a form that is three lines of certain metrical feet: 5, 7, 5. However, this poem is only two lines long. If I were to divide it into three line then the way I see it is as a mini-poem of 5, 7, 7 feet. So, almost a haiku, but not quite.

However, even if it's not a formal haiku there is no doubt that it is a great poem. I think poetry is about creating images. Images that ring very clear, but with words that no one has thought of before. It's also, of course, about economy of words. With those qualifications then this poem is pretty perfect poetry.

Favorite line: "Petals on a wet, black bough."