Why poetry? What poets?

[garyblue]

After a recent display of hubritic ignorance on my part, a fellow
denizon of the board wrote me. She wanted to know what captured my
soul and led me to poetry. And, she wondered, what poets would I
recommend? I answered similarly to what follows here. As I finished
my note, the thought occured to me that these might make good topics
of discussion. Go for it. I know every one of you has an opinion.

Poetry does not need to grasp the soul or tug the heartstrings any
more or less than your favorite Clancy, King, or McCaffery novel; but
it can. Happy is an emotion; but fun poetry is looked down on. Why?
Read poetry for the same reward you would get from reading O. Henry's
The Ransom of Redchief, or Sartre's No
Exit. Read Limericks; laugh your ass off. Or, you can even
read this drivel;

I had an old dog,
His name was Pal.  
I loved him more 
Than any old gal.

If I didn't feed him,
He didn't care.
You couldn't hurt him
He was big as a bear.

Yes, I miss Pal
More than any old gal.
He turned on me,
And I had to shoot him.

(My Eng. Lit. instructor failed this. Said I wasn't serious enough
and didn't show the proper respect for Poetry.;={)

The field of poetry is 99&44/100 percent pure crap. That said, there
is good stuff out there. Consider a top one hundred songs of
(pick your decade). Maybe 50 of those really stand the test of time
and taste. There were more than 25,000 new songs released in that
period! Guess what? That's 99&80/100 percent crap. Keep in mind
that you probably liked and enjoyed several new songs each week at
that time. That's fine. They just didn't stand up to the test of time.

Many (P)oets seem to believe that if you don't like their stuff it's
because 'you just don't get it!' They believe that mere mechanics
shouldn't get in the way of 'soul.' They are serious-by-god-Poets.
Be careful, if you're going to say anything. It's not enough to
dislike the poem. You damn well better know why it doesn't work.

We are lucky. We have folks like The Unmasked Poet, daughter,
KillerMuffin and others who post as well, if not as often. These
critics know the nuts and bolts and can explain to the nuts about the
bolts. These people are the reason I come to the forii (I think
that's the objective plural--too long since Latin-I).

Poets worth reading? These represent to me the best of poetry. They
have withstood the test of time. You may notice the absence of the
likes of Shelley, Keats and others. That is because I think
they're boring. I cannot describe a greater waste of time than
reading Ode on a Grecian Urn. You may disagree. The
language of Shakespeare, Milton, etc. is too archaic for this essay.

So, in no particular order--

T. S. Eliot-- Nobel prize. The Love Song of J. Prufrock
is his best known work. See too The Wasteland and
The Hollow Men.

E. E. Cummings--probably second only to Frost as subject of literary
discussion. He can be very difficult to read. He does wonder-full
things with the language, so make the effort. Also an artist (painter
type) at least in part of the cubist school.

Ogden Nash--"serious critics" often denigrate as not serious enough.
Provides a light touch that can disguise a heavy subject. A master
craftsman. Do not miss. Pick 3 or 4 and memorize them. Then, recite
them as the mood strikes for the pleasure of speaking and hearing
them.

Lewis Carroll--mathematician, logician of renown, teacher, Sunday
school teacher, photographer (of prepubescent nudes!), and novelist.
This man's novels and poetry were written especially for children
(Alice in particular), but are full of political and social satire.

Maya Angelou--mostly politically correct pabulum, but at least you
will know what everyone's talking about. An example of the
artsy-fartsy school.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow--If you read one last poem in your life, it
should be The Song of Hiawatha in its entirety. That
bit you read in school, "...stood the wigwam of Nokomis, daughter of
the moon, Nokomis...," is a small excerpt from part III. Longfellow
uses strict form (from a Norse edda, if I recall) with rhyme, meter,
repetition, and pro'bly lots of other things I don't know about. If
there is such a thing, Longfellow created the Great American Poem.
That's my story, and I'm sticking with it.

Robert Frost--maybe the most widely read American poet? Funny, while
I'm reading Frost, I enjoy it. Then, I have no particular desire to
read another one. What can I say? Still, an acknowledged master.

Rudyard Kipling--almost left him out (Oh, the shame!). Nobel Prize
winner. If you don't cry for Gunga Din, you have no heart. Who
hasn't read If--? Almost American, he lived some of his most
productive years in Vermont (Captains Courageous, eg.).

Any poet your taste and level of discrimination let you enjoy.

g

 

[CRaZy]

1. I have to say Shakespeare. I'm an English teacher - I have to do it. He taught us what language could and should be beyond mere communication. So many of his words and phrases pervade our everyday language. He is THE poet.

2. Alfred lord Tennyson - nobody does the angst of heartbreak better.
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

3. Sylvia Plath - nobody does the angst of madness better.

4. Equal place to two Australian poets. Sometimes you can't separate the poetry and the poet and it is the lifestyle of the poet that makes the words all the more poignant.
Henry Lawson - alcoholic, died penniless - lived the stereotypical life of a poet. Wrote about the early Australian pioneering days - about droving and bushrangers and droughts and floods.
Breaker Morant - as a poet he was a good horsebreaker but he lived the life he wrote about and was eventually hung by those bloody Brits during the Boer war in South Africa after a very suss trial. He kept his humour till the end.
This was Morant's last poem, written the night before his execution:

In prison cell I sadly sit,
A d---d crestfallen chappy,
And own to you I feel a bit--
A little bit -- unhappy.

It really ain't the place nor time
To reel off rhyming diction ;
But yet we'll write a final rhyme
While waiting crucifixion.

No matter what "end" they decide --
Quick-lime? or "b'iling ile?" sir--
We'll do our best when crucified
To finish off in style, sir?

But we bequeath a parting tip
For sound advice of such men
Who come across in transport ship
To polish off the Dutchmen.

If you encounter any Boers
You really must not loot ‘em,
And, if you wish to leave these shores,
For pity's sake, don't shoot ‘em.

And if you'd earn a D.S.O.,
Why every British sinner
Should know the proper way to go
Is: Ask the Boer to dinner.

Let's toss a bumper down our throat
Before we pass to heaven,
And toast: "The trim-set petticoat
We leave behind in Devon."

5. Bob Dylan. Even the lyrics from his earliest songs remain relevant in a changing world. He is the master minimalist - can create the same image in two lines that would take me two pages.

 

[KillerMuffin]

I adore Christina Rossetti, she's my favorite.
Shel Silverstein (who doesn't?)
Frost here as well
Believe it or not, Jewel is good in my book
Poe was pretty good at it
Mary Oliver
Dylan Thomas

I like poems that are more morose than not. I like poetry that rubs along the dirty things in my soul. Most of my own efforts are full of violence. I suppose it's about the only time I feel free to actually express that violence because it comes across more metaphorical in a poem and more tangible in prose.

The thing I love about poetry the most, however, is that in the space of two lines, sometimes as little as ten words, you can see the poet as clearly as you can in a picture.

 

[daughter]

((d laughing and applauding))

garyblue--

Thanks for the kudos, but it's more than I think I have coming. Unlike Crazy, I'm the student. I used what I knew of prose as a springboard in my efforts to understand the technical aspects of poetry.

I laughed and agreed with your comments about novices' complaints. I tutored in high school and college. Students aren't saying anything new and of course you don't understand them. Why else wouldn't you love their masterpieces?

Crazy, once I understood the language, Shakespeare became very enjoyable. He is a master.

I worked my way backwards. I fell in love with the contemporary poets. I dabbled in writing free verse and once I got online, I hooked up with seasoned folks who were willing to share with me the mechanics of writing poetry. My friends and mentors turned me on to the must read classics.

I have friends who are incredibly talented. Often when I read their work, I question what the hell am I doing calling myself a poet. Hell, at least I admit I'm a student and that keeps me encouraged and willing to keep working at it.

Short list of favorite poets:

Sonia Sanchez-- She's had an incredible influence on my own writing. I easily identify with her sound and style. Her language resonates with me and the sensuality draws me in everytime.

Pablo Neruda-- Skilled romantic who gives the reader just enough sugar. I don't know a woman whose read Neruda that doesn't love him.

Gwendolyn Brooks-- classically trained and learned. Founded her career on traditional ballads and one of the forerunners of Performance Poetry. Her shift to political activitism produces some colorful poetry.

Nikki Giovanni-- Her best work is her earlier pieces of the sixities. Love her take on politics and relationships. Met the author in college. I was hooked. I wanted what she had-- the ability to make people sit up and listen.

Sharon Olds-- Love her voice, skill, range. As you can see I'm partial to women. Sharon hits themes that matter to me.


Others include Robert Frost, William Stafford, Robert Bly, Jane Kenyon, Gary Soto, Donald Hall, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Basho, Maya Angelou.

Once I get started, it's hard to stop the flood of names that come to mind.

Thanks for a good post, gary.

Peace,

daughter

 

[REDWAVE]

My favorite poets

There's a lot of poets, and individual poems I like a lot. I'm not even going to try to name them all. I'll confine myself to those that have influenced me the most.

Topping the list has got to be Allen Ginsberg, especially that incredible first line of "Howl": "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix." Now that's poetry!

I'm also a great admirer of Walt Whitman, the first modern poet. The mystical genius of William Blake is another influence. His "Songs of Innocence and Experience" is well known, but I think his real masterpiece is the dark and brooding prophetic work "The Book of Urizen:"

"Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity . . . But unknown, abstracted,
Brooding secret, the dark power hid."

Coleridge's "Ne Plus Ultra" is also quite memorable. For studying the craft and technique of poetry, it's hard to do better than old John Donne and his use of the extended metaphor, especially the "stiff twin compasses" of "A Valediction: Of Mourning."

Perhaps my favorite poem of all, though, is "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley-- the only truly great poem he ever wrote.

"Out of the night that covers me
Black as the Pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the Shade
And yet, the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid

It matters not how strait the gate
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul"

 

[daughter]

Thanks for the FYI

REDWAVE--

I like threads like this one because I'm always turned on to new poets and poems.

Do you think some folks besides us regulars could add to this? Poets do read other poets, right?

Come on folks, list who you're reading.

Peace,

daughter

 

[perks]

addictive poetry

I am a Goethe addict right now.....how can one read this poem and not remember that time....god, what a master.

LOVE'S DISTRESSES.

WHO will hear me? Whom shall I lament to?
Who would pity me that heard my sorrows?
Ah, the lip that erst so many raptures
Used to taste, and used to give responsive,
Now is cloven, and it pains me sorely;
And it is not thus severely wounded
By my mistress having caught me fiercely,
And then gently bitten me, intending
To secure her friend more firmly to her:
No, my tender lip is crack'd thus, only
By the winds, o'er rime and frost proceeding,
Pointed, sharp, unloving, having met me.
Now the noble grape's bright juice commingled
With the bee's sweet juice, upon the fire
Of my hearth, shall ease me of my torment.
Ah, what use will all this be, if with it
Love adds not a drop of his own balsam?

1789.*

<sigh> my hero,
wet thighs and white t-shirts,
perky

 

[tigerjen]

I enjoy Pablo Neruda.....an old boyfriend of mine gave me
a book of poems by him when I was in high school (junior year)....
I got turned on to the ones in particular from the collection
"Twenty Love Poems and A Song of Despair", which I purchased
two years ago. Neruda is sensual.....I particularly love his
poem "Body of A Woman".

Maya Angelou is another poet; I heard her (and of her) the
first time back in '93 when she recited a poem at Clinton's
inauguration ceremony. I have a book of her poems......her
voice is full of conviction and strength....."Phenomenal Woman"
is my favorite because as a woman, I celebrate myself, even
though my life I experienced good times and bad, overcame
sorrows and obstacles, and still came out a survivor. May I also add that Maya Angelou is a "phenomenal woman"?

TJ

 

[TheDR4KE]

why & whom?

I like writing and reading, full stop. Not just poetry but also fiction, non-fiction and music. I love the sound, the interplay of words to create effect and feeling and knowing.

Art is the process of expressing parts of yourself in some way. Artifacts (poems, paintings, stories, songs, etc) can show off the craft of the artist, but that's only a part of what makes good art. They may contain, and express well, some message that is relevant to you, but that also is only a part of what makes good art -- and sometimes that message doesn't have to be a Guernica. What pushes the artifact into really good art is when a piece of the essency of the artist is captured, when that piece of essence resonates with the audience.

I tend to like poems, not poets -- but the poems I like often reflect an aspect of the poets I like, let that aspect resonate in me, and thus I guess in a way I like poets.

The form of poetry I liked the best for a long time was Haiku. I still like to write them, and I think working on Haiku has helped me find simplicity in design better than any other exercises. Once you can look for a message, an image, in just a few words, you can then treat longer poems in the same style and build up very strong images with the language that is right.

Now ... poets:

Shakespeare, of course. His works roll on the tongue. They are meant to be spoken, and that is a great plus.

cummings -- many of his poems are also fantastic read out aloud.

Poems:

The Song of Amergin -- this is shaving poetry. Say it while you shave so that your hairs stand on end. There's lots of info on it on the net. See http://www.amergin.net/songofamergin.html for the Robert Graves version.

A Musical Instrument by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

There's a scifaiku (science fiction haiku -- a fun style of haiku) by Graham Huesmann that I really like, which goes:


The stars look lovely
through
these borrowed eyes


There are many many others, but I'll leave you with a real aural one. Read this out ALOUD! It's by Sarojinji Naidu, and it's just lovely.



_The Coromandel Fishers_

Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried
all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!

No longer delay, let us hasten away in the track of the sea gull's call,
The sea is our mother, the cloud is our brother, the waves are our comrades all.
What though we toss at the fall of the sun where the hand of the sea-god drives?
He who holds the storm by the hair, will hide in his breast our lives.

Sweet is the shade of the cocoanut glade, and the scent of the mango grove,
And sweet are the sands at the full of the moon with the sound of the
voices we love;
But sweeter, O brothers, the kiss of the spray and the dance of the wild
foam's glee;
Row, brothers, row to the edge of the verge, where the low sky mates with
the sea.

- Sarojinji Naidu