Poetry Bookclub 2

[quasimodo1]

It rained, the earth dressed and became naked, snakes left their holes, the moon was made of water, the sun was water, the sky took out its braids and its braids were unraveled rivers, the rivers swallowed villages, death and life were jumbled, dough of mud and sun, season of lust and plague, season of lightning on a sandalwood tree, mutilated genital stars rotting, reviving in your womb, mother India, girl India, drenched in semen, sap, poisons, juices.
({from A Tale of Two Gardens, by Octavio Paz}

[quasimodo1]

My breast grew helplessly cold,
But my steps were light.
I pulled the glove from my left hand
Mistakenly onto my right.

It seemed there were so many steps,
But I knew there were only three!
Amidst the maples an autumn whisper
Pleaded: "Die with me!

I'm led astray by evil
Fate, so black and so untrue."
I answered: "I, too, dear one!
I, too, will die with you..." {by Anna Akhmatova, excerpt from Song of the Final Meeting}

[quasimodo1]

http://www.albany.edu/~jej84/Rune/runeline1.htm Judith Johnson, poet and performance artist, has created an unusual, digital poetry format.

[quasimodo1]

Visits to St. Elizabeths
by Elizabeth Bishop


[1950]

This is the house of Bedlam.

This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a wristwatch
telling the time
of the talkative man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the honored man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is the roadstead all of board
reached by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the old, brave man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

These are the years and the walls of the ward,
the winds and clouds of the sea of board
sailed by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the cranky man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
beyond the sailor
winding his watch
that tells the time
of the cruel man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a world of books gone flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
of the batty sailor
that winds his watch
that tells the time
of the busy man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a boy that pats the floor
to see if the world is there, is flat,
for the widowed Jew in the newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
waltzing the length of a weaving board
by the silent sailor
that hears his watch
that ticks the time
of the tedious man
that lies in the house of Bedlam. {excerpt...St. Eliziabeths refers to a psychiatric hospital in Washington, DC}

[Jozanny]

Mmm, quasi, I tried to pm you and cannot...if it is a glitch or your preferences, I am leaving now and will try to respond at another time. Good evening to you.

[Il Penseroso]

I won't vote because I'm really not sure how much I'll be able to participate, and I wouldn't want to skew the results without including myself in the discussions. But I'll do my best to get my hands on whatever is selected to at least be able to read along with the group.

[quasimodo1]

To Il Penseroso: I don't think it would alter the results and if I might dare to speak for some others...we'd love to have your input.

[Il Penseroso]

Alright, if you insist.

1. Octavio Paz
2. Theodore Roethke
3. Elizabeth Bishop

[JBI]

Ungaretti
Paz
Bishop

[Jozanny]

I hate to come off as a dunce, but the discussion will start after Sunday? I'd have to depend on my free library to be able to join in faster than deploying Amazon, but the library has a deplorable poetry collection, and uses some kind of color dot system for which can be checked out and which cannot.

I have no ideal why, since all fiction is available--but they are more restrictive with research material, and maybe poets fall under that category.

[quasimodo1]

To Jozanny and others: Since acquiring the text might take some time, after one is selected...we will probably begin some days after Monday. I might be able to post one or two poems, depending on the text, and that could get us started.

[quasimodo1]

Using a peculiar handicapping formula, these are the ratings for the selected poets: 0 for Hughes/ 1 for Johnson/ 3 for Collins/ 4 for Moore/ 5 for Ungaretti and Akhmatova/ 6 for Paz/ 7 for Bishop/ 8 for Plath/ and 9 for Roethke. Just a preminary evaluation which might stand until the real vote.

[Jozanny]

Thank you quasi.

[quasimodo1]

Don't mean to imply that the discussion is closed to just members; it will not be. The members participating so far are Stlukesguild, JBI, Quark, Dark Muse, Dapper Drake, Virgil, Il Penseroso, Sofia 82, Jozanny, myself and ANYONE ELSE. Looking for more imput on the selected authors and collections...

[quasimodo1]

Moving along at this dizzying pace...it apparently is Roethke that will be discussed. The original collection, Sequence: Sometimes Metaphysical Poems (1963) is the topic. Unless there is a move to chose any of the following:

Poetry Open House, Knopf, 1941.

The Lost Son and Other Poems, Doubleday, 1948.

Praise to the End!, Doubleday, 1951.

The Waking: Poems 1933-1953, Doubleday, 1953.

Words for the Wind: The Collected Verse of Theodore Roethke, Secker & Warburg, 1957, Doubleday, 1958.

I Am! Says the Lamb, Doubleday, 1961.



The Far Field, Doubleday, 1964.

The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke, Doubleday, 1966.