Poetry: August 13, 2008 Issue [#2549] |
Poetry
This week: Edited by: larryp More Newsletters By This Editor
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Slowly my daughter turns the wheel, finds
a jewelled tapestry
to her liking, and hands the kaleidoscope
to me.
For a time I see the world she sees
and it is good.
~~Dale Harcombe
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In A Poetry Handbook, author, contemporary poet, and Pulitzer Prize winner Mary Oliver briefly discusses what she refers to as ‘the longer poem.’ Mary Oliver states, no one writes epic poems now, and as a general rule, this is a true statement. She explains poets do write long poems, ambitious poems, with a central idea, digressions and often different voices. Generally speaking, such poems contain many kinds of writing, according to the subject of the passage and the author’s inclination. Epic poems require a dignified them, organic unity, and an orderly progress of the action, with a heroic figure or figures. In this sense, not all longer poems are epic poems. Mary Oliver gives examples of epic poems as Beowulf and the Iliad and the Odyssey.
The following poem by Mary Oliver is a longer poem. It reveals her ability to draw the reader into the natural word through her proficient use of imagery.
Dogfish by Mary Oliver
Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing
kept flickering in with the tide
and looking around.
Black as a fisherman's boot,
with a white belly.
If you asked for a picture I would have to draw a smile
under the perfectly round eyes and above the chin,
which was rough
as a thousand sharpened nails.
And you know
what a smile means,
don't you?
*
I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,
whoever I was, I was
alive
for a little while.
*
It was evening, and no longer summer.
Three small fish, I don't know what they were,
huddled in the highest ripples
as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body
one gesture, one black sleeve
that could fit easily around
the bodies of three small fish.
*
Also I wanted
to be able to love. And we all know
how that one goes,
don't we?
Slowly
*
the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.
*
You don't want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don't want to tell it, I want to listen
to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.
And anyway it's the same old story - - -
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.
Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.
And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.
*
And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.
*
And probably,
if they don't waste time
looking for an easier world,
they can do it.
~~Mary Oliver was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1935. Her father Edward William Oliver was a teacher and her mother Helen M. V. Oliver was a stay-at-home mom. Mary Oliver attended Ohio State University for one year before transferring to Vassar College, a prestigious women's college, well known for its graduates in the arts, particularly its writers and actors. During the early 1980's, Mary Oliver taught at Case Western Reserve University. In 1984, her collection of poetry American Primitive won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. In 1986, she moved to Bucknell University where she was honored with the title "Poet In Residence." In 1991, she moved on to Sweet Briar College in Virginia, serving as the Margaret Banister Writer in Residence. Today she resides in Provincetown, Massachusetts.
The works of Mary Oliver reflect a deep communion with the natural world. Her interest in poetry began at an early teen. At the young age of fifteen, she contacted Norma Millay Ellis, the sister of deceased poet Edna St. Vincent Millay, requesting permission to visit Millay’s home in upstate New York. Norma was impressed with the person of the young poet, and Mary Oliver visited her often, even living with her for a period of time, helping Norma organize the papers of Edna St. Vincent Millay. The works of Edna St. Vincent Millay greatly influenced the young Mary Oliver.
Here is another of Mary Oliver’s poem reflecting her love of the natural world.
Morning Poem by Mary Oliver
Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands
of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it
the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---
there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
“The gift of Oliver's poetry is that she communicates the beauty she finds in the world and makes it unforgettable.”
—The Boston Globe
Poetry is a river; many voices travel in it; poem after poem moves along in the exciting crests and falls of the river waves. None is timeless; each arrives in an historical context; almost everything in the end passes. But the desire to make a poem, and the world’s willingness to receive it—indeed the world’s need of it—these never pass.
If it is ‘all’ poetry, and not just one’s own accomplishment, that carries one from this green and mortal world—that lifts the latch and gives a glimpse into a greater paradise—then perhaps on has the sensibility: a gratitude apart from authorship, a fervor and desire beyond the margins of the self.
~~Mary Oliver, A Poetry Handbook
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Longer poems and nature poems for your reading pleasure:
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Because this newsletter comes early in the month of August, I will not present a new challenge here for "Invalid Item" . I will post the new challenge there for September on September 1st. I will feature the sestina poems written for August in the September 10th issue of the Poetry Newsletter. |
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Ronis brain tumor is gone!
Larry Awesome newsletter...I am really enjoy this and love the interview with Kevin Stein...I am enjoying the splasharama too!
K. Lotus
Hello. I am a newbie here and I had to write in after reading this newsletter. I am always hungry for new knowledge and this newsletter has definitely satisfied my craving. I never knew anything about the 'Sestina' format and now I can't wait to try it. I also never knew what a 'Poet Laureate' was and I am curious as to who it is in my city/state. Thank you for this newsletter and I can't wait to for more.
Lexi
Larry,
I love that you are challenging others this month by asking them to try their hands at a sestina. While it can be tricky at times, they are always fun to do. Thank you for the feature and the lovely comments.
~ Lexi
monty31802
This was such a fine Newsletter with so much truth by K. Stein. When a person of this ststure says he is not an editor, is not a know it all and says he does not like the one who thinks they know it all. You put it in a Newsletter that makes it worth reading. Good show Larry.
lindamv
As always, Larry, a wonderful newsletter.
The sestina looks difficult, and I am strapped for time lately, but I hope to have a go at it. I've missed too many of your challenges lately.
The editing team of the Poetry Newsletter appreciates your faithfulness in reading the newsletter and your taking time to respond. I hope you find the newsletter as helpful as I do in preparing it and in reading the newsletters of the other editors of this newsletter. If you have topics you would like to see discussed, send me an email and I will seriously consider your request.
larryp
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