Poem of the Day

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love

And now I get a geography lesson too. :) I thought it was a place name at first, but the plural threw me (and still seems strange, since it's the name of a single mountain and not a range). Also, I was lazy and only looked at the definition without clicking for the etymology when I looked it up in the OED, which defines "monadnock" this way:
The etymology link mentions the mountain in NH and gives a quote from Melville referring to "his great Monadnock hump" in Moby Dick. It's an interesting word, since it seems to have some sort of status between been a proper noun referring to a specific mountain, and a sort of adjective that can be both pluralized and applied to whales and such.

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I love Wallace Stevens poetry, but frankly I can't claim to understand him entirely. There is something in his language that I'm attracted to. I wish I could take a class on him.

I agree both about the appealing quality of the language and the not understanding entirely bit. I've never really looked at Stevens much. Part of that is no doubt due to the fact that the professors most responsible for my knowledge of 20th century poetry were not at all interested in American lit. (one of them, being Irish, hardly got to anyone apart from Yeats :lol:). I agree it would be intersting to take a class that examined Stevens' work. Now you've got me thinking about looking into sitting in on a class on American poetry next year. We've got a scholar here who's supposed to be pretty good in the field and since I'll be done with official coursework this term (:banana: :banana: :banana: ) I could sit in on it just for the sake of the knowledge (if I ever do it I'll promise to share my notes with you ;)).

Some thought on Donne's poem:

I think Donne is reflecting on the changing nature of our confidence and openness in the course of love. When we first love, we seek to impress and may give a false image of ourselves, in order to win another's heart:

<So whilst our infant loves did grow,
Disguises did, and shadows, flow
From us and our cares ; but now 'tis not so.>

When sufficient time has passed, our concerns are shared, we trust in the love of each other, and our shadows therefore become one. Furthermore, in the early years of love, we may portray a nonchalant and casual attitude to the one we love, when in front of peers, as we do not wish to give the impression of being dependent and besotted, especially whilst the future of one's love is so uncertain. But once time has elapsed, these shadows disappear.

<That love hath not attain'd the highest degree,
Which is still diligent lest others see.>

If you cannot be open to everyone about your love, then your love still has some way to grow, to mature.

The rest of the poem, I think, talks about the need to focus on what you have and where you are going. Once you reach that point at which your love is constant, strong, perfect, this isn't the end of the road, but rather that spot on the summit with the greatest viewpoint. Love is maintained through focus.

AP

5/14

Penelope

In the pathway of the sun,
In the footsteps of the breeze,
Where the world and sky are one,
He shall ride the silver seas,
He shall cut the glittering wave.
I shall sit at home, and rock;
Rise, to heed a neighbour's knock;
Brew my tea, and snip my thread;
Bleach the linen for my bed.
They will call him brave.

~Dorothy Parker

Interesting. I like it but I'm not sure the rhyme scheme works with wave and brave so far apart.

The poem should have some indents that the forum did not like (?).
So, imagine an indent before the second and fourth lines, and then a double indent at the fifth and last line. Does that help any?

May 15th 2006

Bond and Free
By Robert Frost

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about--
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turf, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world's embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be.
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius' disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight,
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.


This poem is especially for Pensive. ;)

This makes me, and easily.

Wall within wall to shut fear out.

Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all

Thanks, RJbibliophil.

Thanks RJ. Another Frost poem, and one I haven't read in a long while. I like this one. I've been studying all day for a big project coming up, but I think I'll take a break now from looking for beauty "fused in another star" and call the folks at home.:)

I always thought I knew what 'thrall' mean't, but I took the time to look it up anyway.

thrall (thrôl)
n.

One, such as a slave or serf, who is held in bondage.
One who is intellectually or morally enslaved.
Servitude; bondage: “a people in thrall to the miracles of commerce” (Lewis H. Lapham).
tr.v. Archaic., thralled, thrall·ing, thralls.
To enslave.

[Middle English, from Old English thrǣl, from Old Norse thrǣll.]

thrall'dom or thral'dom n.

Frost is so easy to read, his message comes across clear as silk, perfectly laid out, while leaving a barely discernible trace of something else in the air, and in case we think we're so sure. I have to put Frost in my favourites category. Why does it make me think of the 'Ex-Queen' poem, in that thread, I am wondering?

Frost seems simple if one considers them, but often there is a deeper meaning, or a meaning that might be there if only one could find it.

Can't stand Frost myself I'm afraid.

Mr. Grumpledump's Song

Everything's wrong,
Days are too long,
Sunshine's too hot,
Wind is too strong.
Clouds are too fluffy,
Grass is too green,
Ground is too dusty,
Sheets are too clean.
Stars are too twinkly,
Moon is too high,
Water's too drippy,
Sand is too dry.
Rocks are too heavy,
Feathers too light,
Kids are too noisy,
Shoes are too tight.
Folks are too happy,
Singin' their songs.
Why can't they see it?
Everything's wrong!

-Shel Silverstein

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Scheherazade

Mr. Grumpledump's Song

Everything's wrong,

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I can't quite put my finger on it, seems something is wrong.

Sorry - got to run; lunch over- but promised Rachel I'd post this somewhere and no time to remember how to post thread. Please leave it on!

Be Kind


we are always asked
to understand the other person's
viewpoint
no matter how
out-dated
foolish or
obnoxious.

one is asked
to view
their total error
their life-waste
with
kindliness,
especially if they are
aged.

but age is the total of
our doing.
they have aged
badly
because they have
lived
out of focus,
they have refused to
see.

not their fault?

whose fault?
mine?

I am asked to hide
my viewpoint
from them
for fear of their
fear.

age is no crime

but the shame
of a deliberately
wasted
life

among so many
deliberately
wasted
lives

is.


Charles Bukowski