The Coming of Light (Mark Strand)

The Coming of Light by Mark Strand

It is not too late, this little poem is saying. It has some very pleasant images and I like the brevity of the thing. It is a rather tried-and-true message. Does this poem contribute something new?

Favorite line: "stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows"

The Coming of Light (Mark Strand)

The Coming of Light by Mark Strand.

It's short (and I always tend to like short poems), but the double meaning here is so coying, it's almost maudlin. I mean, evening hours or old age? Hmm, what could this poem be about. And I find the symbols (light, love, stars, dust) to be cliche and uninteresting. It's a well written poem in that it doesn't waste any words. But I just wish that the words chosen were more exciting.

Favorite line: "Even this late the bones of the body shine"

Even this late the bones of the body shine

Eating Poetry (Mark Strand)

I might know the poet, but not very well. He's modern and people always site him as beloved, but I don't know much (anything) more. I chose this poem to read first from his selected list because it sounded like an ars poetica and that's always good for a first look.

However, as I read it seemed like a it were written by a high schooler. I think I wrote a similar poem when I was in a hs creative writing class. But then it moves from the meaningless dribble ("I have been eating poetry") and goes to careful observations of the surroundings ("The librarian does not believe what she sees./Her eyes are sad/ and she walks with her hands in her dress."). That, I believe, is what elevates this from a clever hs poem to something worth something.

Oops, and I can't talk more about this poem. More later.

Favorite line: "She does not understand./When I get on my knees and lick her hand"

Man and Camel (Mark Strand)

Browsing poems for this evening's post I came across Man and Camel by Mark Strand.

I read it as I do all poems, slowly. Usually, when I come to the end of a poem I tend to turn and read it over once again. When I reached the end of this one I burst out laughing. I am pretty certain this poem is telling me that to search for deeper meaning is pointless and ruinous of a poem's art.

So, uh, sorry, Mr. Strand, but I have to talk about this poem, and to talk is to analyze. I'd be just like the man on the front porch trying to figure out the symbolism of the man and camel passing by. In fact, I was trying to do so as I read. I suppose I won't try any longer, since perhaps, Mark Strand picked two unusual figures for no other purpose but to make a point. I think he would laugh at me if I tried to decipher why a camel? And why were they singing?

But, Mr. Strand, point taken. Sometimes, a camel is just a camel. However, I think, by evidence of this blog, that all poems can be analyzed. To try to understand something is just so darn human I think we just can't not do it.

Favorite line: "Yet what they sang is still a mystery to me—/the words were indistinct and the tune/too ornamental to recall."