Intro To Poetry

It's not about the DAFFODILS?

2005-04-11T12:17:00.000-07:00

I wandered lonely as a cloud

I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line A
long the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

The speaker says that, wandering like a cloud floating above hills and valleys, he encountered a field of daffodils beside a lake. The dancing, fluttering flowers stretched endlessly along the shore, and though the waves of the lake danced beside the flowers, the daffodils outdid the water in glee. The speaker says that a poet could not help but be happy in such a joyful company of flowers. He says that he stared and stared, but did not realize what wealth the scene would bring him. For now, whenever he feels "vacant" or "pensive," the memory flashes upon "that inward eye / That is the bliss of solitude," and his heart fills with pleasure, "and dances with the daffodils."

So why is the poem not about daffodils???? From what I have just posted above, it appears that the poem illustrates the happiness the speaker gets out of the field of flowing daffodils; however, there is so much more to it than we all think. As opposed to taking the approach that we have all discussed in class; that the poem is in fact about imagination (“the inward eye”), I have decided to look at the poem as more so a unity between man and nature.

This simple poem, one of the most famous in the Wordsworth canon, revisits the familiar subjects of nature and memory. The plot is extremely simple, depicting the poet's wandering and his discovery of a field of daffodils by a lake, the memory of which pleases him and comforts him when he is lonely, bored, or restless. The characterization of the sudden occurrence of a memory-the daffodils "flash upon the inward eye / Which is the bliss of solitude"-is psychologically heightened, but the poem's main intensity lies in the reverse personification of its early stanzas. The speaker is metaphorically compared to a natural object, a cloud-"I wandered lonely as a cloud / That floats on high...", and the daffodils are continually personified as human beings, dancing and "tossing their heads" in "a crowd, a host." This technique implies an inherent unity between man and nature, making it one of Wordsworth's most basic and effective methods for instilling in the reader the feeling the poet so often describes himself as experiencing.

A bond Between Achilles and Priam?????

2005-04-11T11:36:00.000-07:00

In the final book of the Iliad, Homer shows Achilles continuing to mourn Patroclus while abusing Hector's body; dragging it around his dead companion’s tomb. Apollo, meanwhile, is protecting Hector’s corpse from damage and rot. Finally, on the twelfth day after Hector’s death, Apollo convinces Zeus that Achilles must let Hector’s body be ransomed. Zeus sends Thetis to bring the news to Achilles, while Iris goes to Priam to instruct him to initiate the ransom. Hecuba fears that Achilles will kill her husband, but Zeus reassures her by sending an eagle as a good omen.

Priam has crossed enemy lines to plead the man who had his child. This time, however, the father’s prayers were immediately granted. Priam’s plea of Achilles’ own father, Peleus, created a momentary bond between him and Achilles. Achilles knows that he is fated never to return to Phthia, meaning that one day Peleus will be the abandoned father that Achilles has made Priam; mourning a child snatched from his grasp in enemy territory. This realization that his own father is destined to suffer what Priam is now suffering finally melts Achilles’ rage, bringing a sense of closure to the poem. The bond between Achilles and Priam proves entirely passing, however. No alliances have shifted; Agamemnon would surely take Priam prisoner if he found him in the Achaean camp. Achilles and Priam remain enemies. Achilles’ first loyalty is still to Patroclus, as he needs to remind himself after giving up the body of Patroclus’s murderer. The fate of Troy is still sealed a city destined to fall violently at the hands of the Achaeans. Nonetheless, while Achilles and Priam remain enemies, their hostility has become a nobler, more respectful one.

This change seems to stem from the growth of Achilles’ character. Having begun the epic as a highly strung, prideful, selfish, and impulsive man, Achilles shows himself in Book 24 to possess a sense of sympathy for others. Throughout the poem, Homer projects Achilles’ inability to think beyond himself; his wounded pride makes him stubbornly allow the other Achaeans to suffer defeat, and his rage at Patroclus’s death makes him utterly disrespect the noble Hector’s corpse. Now, however, Achilles not only respects Priam’s plea by returning Hector’s body but also allows the Trojan people a pardon from battle in order to honor and grieve their hero thoroughly and properly.

Robert Browning's Longing for "Home"

2005-04-04T08:19:00.000-07:00

Although I did opt out of writing the final exam, I thought I would still put the questions given to us to use by using them as my blog topics for the remainder of the blogging period. Beginning with question one, I have chosen to give an analysis of Robert Browning’s Home-Thoughts, From Abroad.

"Home-Thoughts, From Abroad"

Oh, to be in England,

Now that April's there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now!

And after April, when May follows,

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows -

Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge

Leans to the field and scatters on the clover

Blossoms and dewdrops - at the bent spray's edge -

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,

Lest you should think he never could recapture

The first fine careless rapture!

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew

The buttercups, the little children's dower, -

Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

"Home-Thoughts, From Abroad" observes the everyday and the domestic, taking the form of a short lyric. Browning casts himself in the role of the homesick traveler, yearning for every detail of his adored home. At this point in his career, Browning had spent quite a bit of time in Italy, so perhaps the longing for England has a bit of biographical importance attached to it. (www.kirjasto.sci.fi/browning.htm). The poem describes a typical springtime scene in the English countryside, with birds singing and flowers blooming. Browning tries to make the ordinary magical, as he describes the “thrush's” ability to recreate his transcendental song over and over again.

Except for the poem's rhyme scheme and number of lines, it reminds me of an inverted sonnet: it divides into two sections, each of which is characterized by its own tone. The first, shorter stanza institutes the emotional tone of the poem- the speaker longs for his home. This section contains two trimeter lines, followed by two tetrameter lines, three pentameter lines, and a final trimeter line; it rhymes ABABCCDD. The metrical pattern and the rhyme scheme give it a sort of rising and falling sense that reflects the emotional undulation of the poem's central theme: the rush of joy at thinking of home, then the acceptance that home lies so far away.
The second section is longer, and consists almost entirely of pentameter lines, except for the eighth line, which is tetrameter. It rhymes AABCBCDDEEFF. The more even metrical pattern and more drawn-out rhyme plan provide for a more meditative feel; it is here that the poet settles back and thinks on the advancement of the seasons that sequence outside of him.

"Home-Thoughts, From Abroad" contains much sincerity. Browning had left Britain and lived in Italy; not in a British colony, and as is evident from the poem, his relationship with "home" was a troubled one: although the speaker here longs for home, he does not miss it enough to live there. Perhaps some things are best appreciated from abroad; perhaps some emotions are felt more acutely away from home. And perhaps, as this light little poem implies, it is only away from "home" that one can create serious dramatic poetry.

Williams' The Young Housewife

2005-03-19T09:14:00.000-08:00

In researching a poem to bring to tutorial on Monday I decided to look for something from either Wallace Stevens or William Carlos Williams. The only poem I ever came across from either of the celebrated modernists before Monday's lecture was Williams’ The Red Wheelbarrow. (I know…Not very impressive…I think everyone has come across that poem) Jeremy’s focus; however, on the two poets were rather interesting and I definitely wanted to look into both poets a little more in depth. I came across a poem which I found quite worthy of note, by William Carlos Williams; entitled The Young Housewife. Here is my interpretation and I am looking forward to seeing how others look at this poem.

The Young Housewife

At ten AM the young housewife

moves about in negligee behind

the wooden walls of her husband’s house.

I pass solitary in my car.

Then again she comes to the curb

to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands

shy, uncorseted, tucking in

stray ends of hair, and I compare her

to a fallen leaf.

The noiseless wheels of my car

rush with a crackling sound over

dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.

-William Carlos Williams

I think the title in itself sets up a sort of mood for the poem that identifies a woman who is the object of attention of the poem’s narrator, indicating that she is young, recently married, and identified in relation to the house in which she and her husband live. These motifs are elaborated in the poem’s first sentence; the emotional high point of which is the narrator’s fantasy of the woman “in negligee.” Clearly, the narrator is attracted to the young woman; however even more clearly in the first line of the second stanza – “Then again she comes to the curb”- the poem does not describe a one-time event but rather a recurrent event. Perhaps the narrator drives by the woman’s house every day “at ten A.M.” The poem is a depiction of the narrator’s attraction to, sightings of, thoughts about, and actions toward a young married woman with whom he has limited contact—restricted, perhaps, to these chance encounters when he passes her in his car. His attraction is apparent—as are his playfulness, humor, and cheerfulness—in his repeated actions: imagining her "in negligee" comparing her to "a fallen leaf," and bowing and passing smiling. I find that his fantasy suggests he is a bit of a rogue, whereas his transformation of the woman into “a fallen leaf,” renders him somewhat of a poet. Simultaneously his running over the “leaves” gives him almost a male chauvinistic character; although his bowing and smiling nevertheless suggest that he is also a gentleman.

I wanted to comment on parallelism in this poem. While the poem can be described as free verse, it nevertheless plays with the possibility of metrical and formal regularity. Many of its lines are four-and five-stress, eight-and nine-syllable lines. There are frequent stretches of regular meter among the lines. The poem is almost in quatrains. All of this parallels, without really adhering to, conventional English and American versification.

More specific parallelisms exist. The content of the three stanzaic units is arranged in a parallel manner: In each of them, the narrator first treats the woman, then himself. In the first stanza, the narrator initially sums up his fantasies of the young housewife, while in the second stanza he sums up his perceptions of her and finally the third stanza sums up his imagined, metaphorical rendering of her fate. These are parallel modes of his conceiving of her, describing her, and imagining her. Still more local parallelisms occur in this material: For example, stanzas 1 and 2 begin with a time reference, which is followed by a reference to the woman herself, followed in turn by an account of her actions that contains a reference to her clothing and, implicitly, her body.

Finally, the woman’s poetic fate parallels her real fate. In her role as a young housewife, she is defined in terms of her relationship with her husband; she is the caretaker of her husband’s house. She seems to have tucked away her individuality as casually as she tucks in her “stray ends of hair.” She fares no better in her role as the object of the narrator’s admiration. She is one fallen leaf among many—something to be swept away and forgotten.

A True Modernist - Robert Frost's "A Road Not Taken"

2005-03-13T09:34:00.000-08:00

As Roger explained in lecture, modernism was a complex and diverse movement. From Symbolism it took allusiveness in style and an interest in perplexing mental states. From Realism it borrowed an urban setting, and a willingness to break taboos. And from Romanticism came an artist-centered view and the moving back into irrationalism and hallucinations. Poets such as Yeats, Frost, Pound, Eliot, Stevens and Williams, are a few of the forerunners who have taken us through this whirlwind of complexities in poetry where there are no precise boundaries.

I chose to look at Robert Frost specifically for this blog for reasons that I will share with you after you read his poem “The Road Not Taken” first.

"The Road Not Taken"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood and I--

I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

So what we get from this poem is that the speaker stands in the woods, considering a fork in the road. Both ways are equally worn and equally covered with un-trodden leaves. The speaker chooses one, telling himself that he will take the other another day, yet he knows it is unlikely that he will have the opportunity to do so. He admits that someday in the future he will recreate the scene with a slight twist - he will claim that he took the less-traveled road.

Now the reason I wanted to look at this poem is because I think it is a poem that has been misunderstood by many of its readers, including myself. (Maybe it was just me…let me know if I am wrong) I guess I had been carelessly reading this poem because I turned it into a piece of “You Go For It! Seize the Day!” Hallmark card subject matter. With the perfect marriage of form and content, interesting phrase fashioned from simple words, and resonant metaphor, it seems as if "The Road Not Taken" can be memorized without having to be read. I think the problem is that I was reading it with too much imagination and not enough accuracy; however this time around the accuracy kicked in.

Of the two roads the speaker says "the passing there / Had worn them really about the same." In fact, both roads "that morning lay / In leaves no step had trodden black." This means that neither of the roads is less traveled by.

One of the attractions of the poem is its archetypal dilemma, one that we instantly recognize because each of us encounters it innumerable times, both literally and figuratively. Paths in the woods and forks in roads are ancient and deep-seated metaphors for the lifeline, its crises and decisions. Identical forks, in particular, symbolize for us the link of free will and fate: We are free to choose, but we do not really know beforehand what we are choosing between. Our route is, thus, determined by an accumulation of choice and chance, and it is impossible to separate the two.

This poem does not advise. It does not say, "When you come to a fork in the road, study the footprints and take the road less traveled by." I find that Frost's focus is more complicated. First, there is no less-traveled road in this poem; it isn't even an option. The poem seems more concerned with the question of how the concrete present (yellow woods, grassy roads covered in fallen leaves) will look from a future vantage point. The ironic tone is inescapable: "I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence." The speaker anticipates his own future insincerity; his need, later on in life, to rearrange the facts. He knows that he will be inaccurate, at best, or hypocritical, at worst, when he holds his life up as an example. In fact, he predicts that his future self will betray this moment of decision as if the betrayal were inevitable. This realization is ironic and sadly pathetic. But the "sigh" is critical. The speaker will not, in his old age, merely gather his children about him and say, "Do what I did. Stick to your gut feelings and take the road less traveled by, because it will make all the difference." He may say this, but he will sigh first; for he won't believe it himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind will remain the image of yellow woods and two equally leafy paths.

I find Frost’s poem to also be somewhat ironically infused with the anticipation of remorse. Its title is not "The Road Less Traveled" but "The Road Not Taken." Even as he makes a choice, the speaker knows that he will second-guess himself somewhere down the line; or at the very least he will wonder at what is permanently lost: the impossible, unknowable other path. The nature of the decision is such that there is no right path; just the chosen path and the other path. What are sighed for ages and ages hence are not so much the wrong decisions as the moments of decision themselves-moments that, one atop the other, mark the passing of a life. This is the more ancient strain of remorse.

Okay…so what do you think? Are these modernists complex or what?

War Poetry by William Butler Yeats

2005-03-01T14:28:00.000-08:00

I think it is safe to say that we all know William Butler Yeats for his poems “The Second Coming” and “A Prayer for my Daughter,” but he was not known to be one of the greatest English-language poets of the 20th century just for those two poems. In searching Yeats on the net I came across a great site that had a full collection of his poetry and came across “An Irish Airman Foresees his Death.” I read this poem a few years back and it had this tone of pure emptiness and purposelessness that continues to come back to me every time I hear mention of Yeats, and now that I have come across it again I want to share with you all what I think is one of Yeats’ great war poems.

AN IRISH AIRMAN FORESEES HIS DEATH

I KNOW that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My county is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

This short sixteen-line poem has a very simple structure: lines metered in iambic tetrameter, and four grouped quatrains of alternating rhymes: ABABCDCDEFEFGHGH, or four repetitions of the basic ABAB scheme utilizing different rhymes.

The speaker, an Irish airman fighting in World War I, declares that he knows he will die fighting among the clouds. He says that he does not hate those he fights, nor love those he guards. His country is "Kiltartan's Cross," his countrymen "Kiltartan's poor." He says that no outcome in the war will make their lives worse or better than before the war began. He says that he did not decide to fight because of a law or a sense of duty, nor because of "public men" or "cheering crowds." Rather, "a lonely impulse of delight" drove him to "this tumult in the clouds." He says that he weighed his life in his mind, and found that "The years to come seemed waste of breath, / A waste of breath the years behind."

This simple poem is one of Yeats's most explicit statements about the First World War, and illustrates both his active political consciousness ("Those I fight I do not hate, / Those I guard I do not love") and his increasing inclination for a kind of hard-edged mystical joy (the airman was driven to the clouds by "A lonely impulse of delight"). The poem, which, like flying, emphasizes balance, essentially enacts a kind of accounting, whereby the airman lists every factor weighing upon his situation and his vision of death, and rejects every possible factor he believes to be false: he does not hate or love his enemies or his allies, his country will neither be benefited nor hurt by any outcome of the war, he does not fight for political or moral motives but because of his "impulse of delight"; his past life seems a waste, his future life seems that it would be a waste, and his death will balance his life.

Well I hope you all enjoyed this poem as much as I did and I am looking forward to any commnts you wish to share.

Victorian Poetry with Robert Browning

2005-02-28T17:09:00.000-08:00

What we can note from lecture about the Victorian era is firstly, that it was a period named after the longest reigning English monarch, Queen Victoria. We learned that the Victorian Age was characterized by rapid change and developments in nearly every sphere - from advances in medical, scientific and technological knowledge to changes in population growth and location. Roger also mentioned that the generation was intellectually and emotionally alive. In knowing all this about the Victorian era, well…..how can we apply it to poetry? As with all the literature of the Victorian era, much of the poetry of the day was concerned with contemporary social problems. Change, rather than stability, came to be accepted for the first time as normal in the nature of human outlook, and people were writing about it. It is important to note that the Victorians were the inheritors of the Romantics; thus we will still find in the poetry, the braking away from 18th century rationality. I want to share a poem with you all by one of the great Victorian poets, Robert Browning. The poem is entitled Porphyria’s Lover.

"Porphyria's Lover"

The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
and did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me--she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.

Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!

"Porphyria's Lover" opens with a scene taken straight from the Romantic poetry of the earlier nineteenth century. While a storm rages outdoors, giving a demonstration of nature at its most sublime, the speaker sits in a cozy cottage. This is the picture of rural simplicity; a cottage by a lake, a rosy-cheeked girl, a roaring fire. However, once Porphyria begins to take off her wet clothing, the poem leaps into the modern world. She bares her shoulder to her lover and begins to caress him; this is a level of overt sexuality that has not been seen in poetry since the Renaissance. We then learn that Porphyria is defying her family and friends to be with the speaker; the scene is now not just sexual, but transgressively so. Illicit sex out of wedlock presented a major concern for Victorian society; the famous Victorian "prudery" constituted only a backlash to what was in fact a popular obsession with the theme: the newspapers of the day reveled in stories about prostitutes and unwed mothers. Here, however, in "Porphyria's Lover," sex appears as something natural, acceptable and almost wholesome: Porphyria's girlishness and affection take prominence over any hints of immorality.

For the Victorians, modernity meant numbness: urban life, with its constant over-stimulation and newspapers full of scandalous and horrifying stories, immunized people to shock. Many believed that the onslaught of amorality and the constant assault on the senses could be counteracted only with an even greater shock. This is the principle Browning adheres to in "Porphyria's Lover." In light of contemporary scandals, the sexual transgression might seem insignificant; so Browning breaks through his reader's probable complacency by having Porphyria's lover murder her; and thus he provokes some moral or emotional reaction in his presumably numb audience. This is not to say that Browning is trying to shock us into condemning either Porphyria or the speaker for their sexuality; rather, he seeks to remind us of the disturbed condition of the modern psyche.

This poem, like much of Browning's work, conflates sex, violence, and aesthetics. Like many Victorian writers, Browning was trying to explore the boundaries of sensuality in his work. It could be said that he is confused by his society's simultaneous embrace of both moral righteousness and a desire for sensation; "Porphyria's Lover" explores this contradiction.

John Keats....How Romantic!!

2005-02-06T08:14:00.000-08:00

The period of romanticism has always been a personal favorite of mine as it was an attitude that characterized many works of painting, music, architecture, criticism and, most importantly for this course, literature in Western civilization. I have really taken a liking to the characteristics which comprise romanticism such as the deepened appreciation of the beauties of nature; the universal exaltation of emotion over reason; the emphasis upon imagination as the gateway to a transcendent experience; the obsessive interest in the medieval era; and a fondness for the exotic, the mysterious, the monstrous, and even the satanic. Basically, romanticism is one immense rejection of the principles of order, harmony, balance, idealization and rationality of the 17th-18th century culture, as Roger illustrated in lecture with his circle representation of the 18th century “closed world.”

For this week on Romanticism, I chose to comment on John Keats’ Ode on Melancholy. This poem addresses the subject of how to cope to sadness and uses distinctive romantic images that are fantastical and imaginative.

Ode on Melancholy

NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty - Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight 25
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

-John Keats

The first stanza of Keats’ ode tells the sufferer what not to do: The sufferer should not "go to Lethe," or forget their sadness, (I was not to familiar with Lethe so I looked it up to find that it is the river of forgetfulness in Greek mythology); and should not become obsessed with objects of death and misery, as in the beetle, the death-moth, and the owl. For, the speaker says, that will make the anguish of the soul drowsy, and the sufferer should do everything he can to remain aware of and alert to the depths of his suffering. In the second stanza, the speaker tells the sufferer what to do in place of the things he forbade in the first stanza. When afflicted with "the melancholy fit," the sufferer should instead overwhelm his sorrow with natural beauty, glutting it on the morning rose, "on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave," or in the eyes of his beloved. In the third stanza, the speaker explains these commands, saying that pleasure and pain are strongly linked: Beauty must die, joy is fleeting, and the flower of pleasure is forever "turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips." The speaker says that the shrine of melancholy is inside the "temple of Delight," but that it is only visible if one can overwhelm oneself with joy until it reveals its center of sadness, by "burst[ing] Joy's grape against his palate fine." The man who can do this shall "taste the sadness" of melancholy's might and "be among her cloudy trophies hung." I think it is in this last stanza, that the speaker offers his most convincing synthesis of melancholy and joy, in a way that takes in the tragic mortality of life but lets him remain connected to his own experience. It is exactly the fact that joy will come to an end that makes the experience of joy such a ravishing one; the fact that beauty dies makes the experience of beauty sharper and more thrilling.

Before I end this blog, I just wanted to note something I noticed in the rhyme scheme of the poem, which I am sure Keats intended to do to reflect the logical, argumentative thematic structure. If you notice in the first two stanzas, offering advice to the sufferer, the rhyme scheme is the same - ABABCDECDE; the third stanza, which explains the advice, varies the ending slightly, following a scheme of ABABCDEDCE, so that the rhymes of the eighth and ninth lines are reversed in order from the previous two stanzas. The two-part rhyme scheme of each stanza (one group of AB rhymes, one of CDE rhymes) creates the sense of a two-part thematic structure as well, in which the first four lines of each stanza define the stanza's subject, and the latter six develop it.

I hope you all enjoyed the blog….let me know what your take on the poem is.

Satire in Alexander Pope

2005-01-29T08:50:00.000-08:00

Satire...that wonderful mode of expression that uses ridicule to depreciate its subject in the eyes of its audience - what scandal! Satire involves the blending of laughter and contempt. Laughter alone makes for humour and comedy, while contempt alone leads to attack and invective. The satirist ties the two together to criticize vice and folly. Laughter, used for aggressive purposes promotes mockery, scorn and ridicule- the satirist's chief weapons; which brings me to Alexander Pope. Pope’s The Rape of the Lock is a humorous reflection of the vanities and joblessness of 18th-century high society. I am not going to post the poem in the blog, rather I will simply discuss it, because it is far too long to post; however it is in the anthology on page 547.

The Rape of the Lock is a great example of a mock-epic. It is a poem in which every element of the contemporary scene conjures up some image from epic tradition or the classical world view, and the pieces are formed together with a cleverness that makes the poem surprising and amusing.

The opening of the poem establishes its mock-heroic style. Pope introduces the conventional epic subjects of love and war. Yet the tone already indicates that the high seriousness of these traditional topics has diminished. The second line confirms in explicit terms what the first line already suggests: the "am'rous causes" the poem describes are not comparable to the grand love of Greek heroes but rather represent a belittled version of that emotion.

In the second canto the sexual allegory of the poem begins to come into fuller view. The title of the poem already associates the cutting of Belinda's hair with a more explicit sexual conquest- “the rape”, and here Pope encourages that suggestion. He multiplies his sexually metaphorical language for the incident, adding words like "ravish" and "betray" to the "rape" of the title. He also slips in some commentary on the implications of his society's sexual behavior, as when he remarks that "when success a Lover's toil attends, / few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends."

Questions of honor in the fourth canto, returns us to the sexual allegory of the poem. The real danger, Thalestris suggests, is that "the ravisher" might display the lock and make it a source of public humiliation to Belinda. Therefore the real question is a superficial one- public reputation-rather than the moral obligation to chastity. Belinda's own words at the close of the canto confirm this suggestion; she exclaims, "Oh, hadst thou, cruel! been content to seize / Hairs less in sight, or any hairs but these!" The "hairs less in sight" suggest her pubic hair. Pope is pointing out the degree to which she values outward appearance, whether beauty or reputation, above all else; she would rather suffer a breach to her integrity than a breach to her appearance.

Even in its most mocking moments, this poem is a gentle one, in which Pope shows a basic sympathy with the social world in spite of its folly and foibles.

Poetry and Theatre

2005-01-23T11:25:00.000-08:00

Certainly there is a connection between the theatre and poetry. In my opinon, theatre rises from poetry. The popularity of spoken word poetry has grown immensly because I find more and more that poetry is most effective for the audience when performed. As Roger said in lecture, performance poetry; or rather dramatic poetry, creates such a sense of presence for both the actors and audience as the familiarity of the story being enacted, along with the creativity in re-enacting the story, create a memorable sensation. When a piece of literature is put into performance, especially something as grand in language as poetry, the story becomes an even more heightened experience for all. There is such and elevation in emotions when seeing something being represented on stage then it is to read about it on paper. This brings me to Shakespeare-the prodigy of poetry and theatre.

Although we know very little about Shakespeare's life, I think it is safe to say that he was the greatest playwright of all time. Shakespeare's plays form one of literature's greatest legacies. Divided into comedies, histories and tragedies, Shakespeare plays have spawned thousands of performances, adaptations and films. From famous tragedies like Macbeth and King Lear to tragic love stories such as Romeo and Juliet to epic historic plays like Henry V, enlighten, sadden, teach and most important of all, entertain. I classify entertainment as the most important element because when people go to the theatre they desire and expect entertainment, and Shakespeare was able to please his audiences without having to rid his plays of the heightened language or grandeur of characters. Roger's idea of the presence; the familiar story, and distance; the new tale of the known story, is a definite trademark of Shakespeare for his time, and a true characteristic of the collaboration of poetry and theatre in general.

the Art of Courlty Love

2005-01-13T13:41:00.000-08:00

Courtly love...ah yes….the forbidden love affair. I’ve always taken pleasure in reading tales about the troubadours of the late eleventh century, as it amazed me how obedient and loyal they were to their courtly ladies, in hopes to win their hearts. When Roger re-introduced the topic of courtly love in Monday’s lecture, I was immediately reminded of a 1980’s film, which I’m sure most of you will be familiar with, called “The Princess Bride.” The film is classic tale of love and adventure as the beautiful Buttercup is kidnapped and held against her will in order to marry Prince Humperdinck, and Westley, her childhood sweetheart, returns in an attempt to save her. It is a great movie which accurately portrays the idea of courtly love and if you have yet to have seen it….I definitely recommend it.

As for the theme of courtly love among poetry; I found a great example of it in a poem by John Donne. I was not too familiar with the poetry of John Donne; however Rosita did mention that he was well-known for his love poetry and after researching his poetry a little further, I can see why he holds such a reputation. The poem of Donne’s I would like to share is called “The Canonization.”

The Cannonization

For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love,
Or chide my palsy, or my gout,
My five grey hairs, or ruin'd fortune flout,
With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve,
Take you a course, get you a place,
Observe his Honour, or his Grace,
Or the King's real, or his stamped face
Contemplate, what you will, approve,
So you will let me love.

Alas, alas, who's injur'd by my love?
What merchant's ships have my sighs drown'd?
Who says my tears have overflow'd his ground?
When did my colds a forward spring remove?
When did the heats which my veins fill
Add one more to the plaguy bill?
Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still
Litigious men, which quarrels move,
Though she and I do love.

Call us what you will, we are made such by love;
Call her one, me another fly,
We'are tapers too, and at our own cost die,
And we in us find the'eagle and the dove.
The phoenix riddle hath more wit
By us; we two being one, are it.
So, to one neutral thing both sexes fit,
We die and rise the same, and prove
Mysterious by this love.

We can die by it, if not live by love,
And if unfit for tombs and hearse
Our legend be, it will be fit for verse;
And if no piece of chronicle we prove,
We'll build in sonnets pretty rooms;
As well a well-wrought urn becomes
The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,
And by these hymns all shall approve
Us canoniz'd for love;

And thus invoke us: 'You, whom reverend love
Made one another's hermitage;
You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage;
Who did the whole world's soul contract, and drove
Into the glasses of your eyes
(So made such mirrors, and such spies,
That they did all to you epitomize)
Countries, towns, courts: beg from above
A pattern of your love!'

John Donne

To begin with the form of the poem; the five stanzas of "The Canonization" are metered in iambic lines ranging from trimeter to pentameter. In each of the nine-line stanzas, the first, third, fourth, and seventh lines are in pentameter, the second, fifth, sixth, and eighth in tetrameter, and the ninth in trimeter. The rhyme scheme in each stanza is ABBACCCDD.

This poem, which appears to be spoken to someone who disapproves of the speaker's love affair, is written in the voice of a sarcastic courtier who is nevertheless utterly caught up in his love. In the first stanza, the speaker somewhat details his relationship to the world of politics, wealth, and nobility; by assuming that these are the concerns of the one he loves, and he indicates his own background amid such concerns. These images of kings and noblemen Donne uses in the poem are distinguished features of courtly love because as it is already known, the idea of courtly love began with knights who fell in love with women of higher nobility and whom were already married to princes or kings.

In the second stanza there is a great image of the traditional attitude of the courtly lover who suffers through being in love with the woman, already married, and who scorns him. This idea is suggested by the references to the symptoms of love by the courtier. For example:

“Alas, alas, who's injur'd by my love?
What merchant's ships have my sighs drown'd?
Who says my tears have overflow'd his ground?
When did my colds a forward spring remove?
When did the heats which my veins fill
Add one more to the plaguy bill?”

In the third stanza, the speaker begins spinning off metaphors that will help explain the intensity and uniqueness of his love. Declaration of love by the courtier is another distinguishable element of courtly love. He says that he and his lover embody the elements of the eagle (strong and masculine) and the dove (peaceful and feminine) bound up in the image of the phoenix, dying and rising by love.

I hope you all enjoyed this poem as much as I did and hopefully I made it clear enough as to how the theme of courtly love is a dominant theme in Donne’s “The Canonization.” Let me know what you though of the poem.

Love Poetry

2005-01-09T13:49:00.000-08:00

Writing and reading love poetry is a way to get in touch with your inner feelings about the emotions of loving and being loved. Love poetry spans emotions from hate and despair to admiration and adulation. Love poetry is not only for "lovers" but speaks to anyone who has experienced the desire to be loved... that is it speaks to everyone. Now if only it were that easy to write!!! Love poetry is one of my favorite things to read about and as I read, I envy the poet for being able to write such a beautiful poem that is just drowned in a pool of emotions and imagination. I have always found it difficult to write a love poem because I found that my feelings were always changing. Even now that I feel as though I have found love, I can not seem to find the right words to express essentially what I feel. I find that I end up throwing things like love, tenderness, security, warmth, desire etc. down on the page and it becomes one big jumble of corney love expressions that in its entirety does not turn out to be anything more than a cheesy love mess! I would much rather leave the love poems to Shakespeare.

To end this blog I wanted to share two quotes I found because I find that they encompass what love truely means and because I may fumble up how I want to say this I thought I would let quotes speak.

"You know you are in love when you see the world in her eyes, and her eyes everywhere in the world".
- David Levesque -

"Love is strong yet delicate. It can be broken. To truly love is to understand this. To be in love is to respect this".
- Stephen Packer -

Back to the Wonderful World of Poetry

2005-01-02T11:50:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone! Well I think it is safe to say that this past month off went by way too fast....I could definitely use another. Being that tomorrow we all return back to the world of poetry, I thought I would try and pick up where we left off when we last saw each other.

Whomever made it in for lecture on that lovely snowy and icy Monday morning, as I did, was lucky enough to have heard Rosita lecture on the one and only Emily Dickinson. Do not get me wrong, I think Prof Kuin is a great lecturer; however having Rosita lecture was great change. More interesting though was the content of Rosita's lecture. I found it interesting to learn of the unconventional lifestyle Dickinson lived because it made sense as to why she writes in such a style unique to those of the many other female poets. Emily’s unconventional use of dashes and capitalization reflect her free, rebellious lifestyle and thus make the meaning of her poetry much more personal and effective.

Rosita asked us to find a poem from Emily Dickinson to comment on and I did so already in a previously blog. The poem was entitled “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” and if you have not read it yet you really should. It is a great poem. I would, however, like to comment on another of Dickinson’s poems that I found interesting and the poem is called “The Soul selects her own Society”. It goes as follows:

The Soul selects her own Society

THE SOUL selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority,
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

-Emily Dickinson

The meter of "The Soul selects her own Society" is much more irregular and uncertain than the typical Dickinson poem, although it still roughly fits her usual structure: iambic trimeter with the occasional line in tetrameter. It is also uncharacteristic in that its rhyme scheme-if we count half-rhymes such as "Gate" and "Mat"-is ABAB, rather than ABCB; the first and third lines rhyme, as well as the second and fourth.

Whereas "I'm Nobody! Who are you?" takes a playful tone to the idea of reclusiveness and privacy, the tone of "The Soul selects her own Society," is quieter, grander, and more ominous. The idea that "The Soul selects her own Society" conjures up images of a solemn ceremony with the ritual closing of the door, the chariots, the emperor, and the ponderous Valves of the Soul's attention. Essentially, the middle stanza functions to emphasize the Soul's unemotionally uncompromising attitude toward anyone trying to enter into her Society once the metaphorical door is shut; not even chariots or an emperor can persuade her. The third stanza then illustrates the severity of the Soul's exclusiveness; even from "an ample nation" of people, she easily settles on one single person to include, summarily and unhesitatingly locking out everyone else. The concluding stanza, with its emphasis on the "One" who is chosen, gives "The Soul selects her own Society" the feel of a tragic love poem, although we need not reduce our understanding of the poem to see its theme as merely romantic. The poem is an excellent example of Dickinson's tightly focused skills with metaphor and imagery; cycling through her majestic list of door, divine Majority, chariots, emperor, mat, ample nation, and stony valves of attention, Dickinson continually surprises the reader with her vivid and unexpected series of images, each of which furthers the somber mood of the poem.

I thought this poem greatly emphasized the ambiguities and complexities which encompassed Dickinson’s “society”. I hope you all enjoyed.

Poetry of the Everyday

2004-11-28T09:09:00.000-08:00

I found Prof. Kuin's lecture on the poetry of the everyday simple things quite interesting, as before it I do not think I have ever acknowledged the idea. When Prof. Kuin asked us the question of "why do poets bother to write about simple things?", I was searching for some possible answer that could explain the motivation behind writing about clothes, gardens or dinner invitations, and was stumped. Then as simple as an answer could possibly get, Prof. Kuin went on to reply "Why not?", and in those two words he explained everything. Being that a poet chooses to write a poem about a simple thing of our everyday lives does not mean that the poem is written in the same simple caliber as the object at hand. A really great poem that exemplifies this contrast between the simplicity of the subject, and the words, images and style the poet uses, was one from Prof. Kuin’s list; “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”, by William Wordsworth. I attempted to write my own poem of the everyday, but I have to admit it was a lot harder than I thought. I could not even think of a simple object to write about, so since I really liked this poem by Wordsworth, I though I’d consider his clouds as opposed to my…..well, nothing!

I wandered Lonely As a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,I
n such a jocund company;
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

This simple poem visits the familiar subjects of nature and memory. The plot is quite simple, as it depicts the poet's wandering and his finding of a field of daffodils by a lake, the memory of which pleases him and comforts him when he is alone and possibly bored. In the last stanza the description of the sudden incidence of a memory-the daffodils "flash upon the inward eye / Which is the bliss of solitude"-is expressively heightened. There is this beautiful image of how happy the poet is as he “dances with the daffodils.” I think that the poem's main brightness; however, lies in the reverse personification of its earlier stanzas, predominantly the first stanza. The speaker is metaphorically compared to a natural object, a cloud-"I wandered lonely as a cloud / That floats on high o’er vales and hills", and the daffodils are continually personified as human beings, dancing and "tossing their heads" (second stanza) in "a crowd, a host." (first stanza) I think this technique by Wordsworth implies and wonderfully exemplifies a natural harmony between man and nature.

As for the style of the poem, it has four six-line stanzas, each of which has the rhyme scheme: ABABCC. Each line is metered in iambic tetrameter, as they each consist of 4 iambic feet. Therefore the style of the poem itself is not entirely simple, and most importantly it does not stray from its strict metrical form. This metrical style gives the poem somewhat of a musical element.

With this poem, I think Wordsworth was trying to open his readers’ eyes to one of the many things we take for granted everyday: nature. What we may think to be something so simple and therefore do not grant much importance, can in essence be something so meaningful and effectual to most others.

Achilles...A True Epic Hero

2004-11-21T16:54:00.000-08:00

In defining the "Greek hero" in Monday's lecture, I found that there was a certain heroic characteristic missing from the group, and if we are to assume that Achilles is a true epic hero, than this characteristic must be noted. Before I go any further, I have to mention that upon reading blogs by those in Prof. Kuin's tutorial, I came across Maya's blog, which happened to cover the same missing heroic quality. Maya stated that....

"...a very important part of being a Hero (possibly more so in the 21st century) is having human qualities, particularly faults and shortcomings. At times these larger-than-life heroes can make very mortal, human mistakes; they are victims of fate and chances as well (Oedipus). At times, these mistakes have grave consequences (death in the most honorable cases). However, it is this element of human imperfection and fate that make heroes, well, heroes. Their ability to overcome and supersede these human follies further establishes their enigma. "

Therefore, as Maya so cleverly explained, a hero is not a hero unless he has a fault that he must overcome, and it is how he overcomes this fault that makes him memorable and epic. Achilles possesses superhuman strength, has a close relationship with the gods, has all the marks of a great warrior, and indeed proves the mightiest man in the Achaean army, but his innate character flaws constantly hinder his ability to act with nobility and integrity. He cannot control his pride or the rage that surges up when that pride is injured. This attribute so poisons him that he abandons his comrades and even prays that the Trojans will slaughter them, all because he has been slighted at the hands of his commander, Agamemnon. Achilles is driven primarily by a thirst for glory. Part of him yearns to live a long, easy life, but he knows that his personal fate forces him to choose between the two. Ultimately, he is willing to sacrifice everything else so that his name will be remembered, and it is this eagerness that makes him a heroic figure.

A Poem by Emily Dickinson

2004-11-15T03:43:00.000-08:00

Recently I have been delving somewhat into the poetry of Emily Dickinson. I came across a poem entitled I'm nobody! Who are you?, which I found to be somewhat of a playful defense of one who chooses to live a more private, introverted lifestyle. Have a read and let me know what you think.

I'm nobody! Who are you?

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

-Emily Dickinson

It is as though Dickinson is implying that to be a Nobody is a luxury incomprehensible to the dreary Somebodies who are too busy keeping their names in circulation, croaking like frogs in a swamp in the summertime.

Pay close attention to her surprising language. The juxtaposition in the line "How public--like a Frog--" shocked me as a first-time reader of the poem, as it combines elements not typically considered together, thus, more powerfully conveying its meaning (frogs are "public" like public figures--or Somebodies--because they are constantly "telling their name"-- croaking--to the swamp, reminding all the other frogs of their identities).

As for the meter, the two stanzas of "I'm Nobody!" are constituted of iambic trimeter occasionally including a fourth stress ("To tell your name--the livelong June--"). They follow an ABCB rhyme scheme (though in the first stanza, "you" and "too" rhyme, and "know" is only a half-rhyme, so the scheme could appear to be AABC), and she frequently uses rhythmic dashes to interrupt the flow.

I really liked this poem, and the message it implies about the spiritually private. I'm curious to hear what others think about the poem.

Il Postino

2004-11-14T16:28:00.000-08:00

I must admit I thoroughly enjoyed Il Postino. As the film went on I grew more and more attatched to Mario's character, as his convincing performance completely triggered all my emotions; when he felt sad, so did I. It is so true what Rosita said in her blog about the film not being about Pablo Neruda, because what it was really about was Mario and his learned love for poetry. Neruda was able to show him the power and beauty behind poetry, but it was Mario who persisted learning how to write poetry so he could express to Beatrice how much he loved her. Although Mario had little talent with words, he had the heart of a poet. The movie is a perfect depiction of poetry and its relationship to life.

Slam Poetry

2004-10-17T08:42:00.000-07:00

I had mentioned Slam Poetry in a previous blog and someone wanted to know a little more about it, so here's a poem from Wakefield Brewster from his first publication Lyrical Pitbull Impounded, followed by some websites where you can find more poems from Wakefield and other Slam Poets.

Flight

Now I think I can feel it
Like a big swig wheel it
Goin' straight to my head like true knowledge
Droppin' heavy like hardcore
Life got more in store
Like store houses
Den hot thought arouses
So arise!

And realize your infinite worth
As I have beheld the positive birth of negative suns
Intercede; interrupt my deepest, darkest visions
Mental words collide for they are destined for collisions

De way de swing and sway about de INNERVERSE like mad, md meteors

Smashing silence
Embracing violence
For it's all about power
Acid voodoo rain I bring da pain sun shower
I am a new budding flower

So best just keep away 'cause this hour's mine
Now sit back and listen while I rock da killah rhyme
Oh I see - afraid of da rhyme scheme
Dat's because you cannot dream
You are old and not forever
One year experience times whatever don't make you clever

But I have the quick cuts
And the open sores that swing a symphony of suffering
And blood - my liquid life
I see it spill in video games and the white ikea couch

Ouch, ouch , ouch!

I've been pinpricked by a needle
A colic alcoholic don't fall down I be a weeble
I shudder back and forth
So I look for a mirror
I need reassurance
Gotta purchase some insurance
So I look at him and he looks back at him and says

Yuh trippin' yuh speedin' yuh speedin' yuh trippin'
Inside yo soul barrel I'm a dunkin' and a dippin'
I'm comin' up with prizes, I'm comin' up with gumption
Movin' through da junction of da fly high function

Shit -

You can't stop me - or rock me
I am my own mooring
Not like a rock - just am
Maybe a mutant by your standards
But your genes suffer losses
And I can express
Like when Magneto tosses Collosus

I crush metal
I bend bricks
I drink mercury
My sight is x-ray
I bring da dawn of a new darker day
But I am all da silver dat lines
Speakin' like an epideral
Slammin' up in spines

I'll make you numb, I'll make you numb
And den I'll take care of you
And love you like a lover
Over yo cliff o' dover, baby I'm a hover

And stroke your face
And feel in love
while candles become volcanoes
And the damned push up daises
My favourite fucking flower
Watching da slow dance of bladed grass

Here come the vultures
Call me carrion
Let me feed the earth
Then I'll reside in the flight and night birth

And - I - Will - Soar

-Wakefield Brewster

http://calendar.yahoo.com/wwobrewster
http://www.coffeehouse.ca/
http://www.unknownpoets.com

Good Poetry VS Bad Poetry

2004-10-03T17:45:00.000-07:00

This question of good vs bad poetry can be one of endless debate because what really defines what is good and what is bad? When I think of "good" poetry I think of something that appeals to my emotions. I can not imagine good poetry being anything but entertaining to the mind, as opposed to something I have to struggle to get through. I have read several poems through out high school and university from well known poets like Yeats, Poe and Pound, but I can not necessarily say that I have found their poetry good; good under my definition of what good is. I would think to myself, well these poems must be good because they are all over poetry anthologies and are what made these poets so well known, yet I was not really attracted to most of them. I guess when I read a poem I want to read one that really feels close to home, and for me, good poetry is to be able to relate to it and understand it.

Now, what is "bad" poetry? I guess it would not be fair of me to say that because I do not understand a poem it is necessarily bad, because nine times out of ten, that is probably not the case. However I am simply taking this topic from a personal stand point and I would have to say that bad poetry would be poetry that does not really feel as though it has much meaning and substance. I feel as though some poets drown their poetry in metaphors and other poetic devices that I get lost in just trying to figure out the real meaning, and I lose interest in the poem. Sometimes the best poetry is the simplest poetry.

The thing with poetry is that it is read differently by every single person who reads it, so whether it is good or bad depends on the individual and how they measure good and bad.

What is it about Poetry???

2004-09-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

What is it that turns people on to poetry and others off to poetry? I've asked myself this question many times because I personally have had some mixed feelings on this issue; therefore I will answer this question based on my experiences with reading and writing poetry.

Poetry is a very complex subject, and it can be very difficult to grasp the true concept and meaning of a particular poem. I have found myself having to re-read a poem over and over, trying to understand the underlying messages under all the metaphors, similies, and other poetic devices, which at times became very frustrating. One of the reasons people like myself become turned off to poetry is the mere fact of not being able to analyze the poem correctly, even after reading it several times. Reading poetry requires much analytical thought and sometimes I just want to read a poem that does not require too much analyzing. There are times where I want to be able to read a poem from Poe per se, and understand it first time around, and grasp the message the poem is offering. This is the only reason that I may have been turned off from a poem, or poetry entirely, because I truly do enjoy poetry in all its forms.

On the other hand, there are various other reasons that can turn people on to poetry, as they have done for me. Being that poetry is very expressive and filled with so much imagery, it is very appealing to the mind. Even if a poem is not as easy to understand at first, the symbolism alone is enough to keep me reading more. Poetry allows people to be expressive and creative, and can help to ease a scrambled mind. There have been several occasions where I have felt confused and as though I was not being understood, and being able to read a poem that dealt with my worries, or create my own poetry, felt as though my thoughts were becoming clearer.
Besides the idea of poetry being a great tool of self expression, there are such various types of poetry that are enjoyable to read and easily appreciated, simply because of how the poetry is delivered. Slam Poetry, or spoken word poetry, is a great example of this. For those who are not to familiar with slam poetry, it sounds very much like a free style; rap sounding almost. It is still very expressive and filled with poetic devices, however it is the deliverance of the poetry that completely turned me onto it to begin with. I think sometimes that poetry is understood best when it is spoken aloud as opposed to reading it in your head and out of a book, because the tone is what triggers the mood of the poem and sets an understanding of what the basis of the poem is. I know for sure that I like the literature, or poetry, I read to be entertaining, and when it is, it keeps me wanting more.

Poetry requires a lot of patience; patience to read a poem over and over and patience to figure out the poets motivation. When this is achieved, so is the appreciation for poetry.

OOps my mistake!!

2004-09-22T13:44:00.000-07:00

I guess you can all assume that I meant I Really HOPE this works, I accidently left it out of the title.

I Really this works NOW!!!!

2004-09-22T13:40:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone,

This is Franca and I have been having way too many problems trying to get the hang of this whole blog thing. Well as my title says I hope this works so I can get started on some real blogging.