 Poetry: June 25, 2014 Issue [#6398] |
  Poetry
This week: Delmore Schwartz Edited by: Stormy Lady  
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| This is poetry from the minds and the hearts of poets on Writing.Com. The poems I am going to be exposing throughout this newsletter are ones that I have found to be, very visual, mood setting and uniquely done. Stormy Lady |
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The Spring
by Delmore Schwartz
Spring has returned! Everything has returned!
The earth, just like a schoolgirl, memorizes
Poems, so many poems. ... Look, she has learned
So many famous poems, she has earned so many prizes!
Teacher was strict. We delighted in the white
Of the old man's beard, bright like the snow's:
Now we may ask which names are wrong, or right
For "blue," for "apple," for "ripe." She knows, she knows!
Lucky earth, let out of school, now you must play
Hide-and-seek with all the children every day:
You must hide that we may seek you: we will! We will!
The happiest child will hold you. She knows all the things
You taught her: the word for "hope," and for "believe,"
Are still upon her tongue. She sings and sings and sings.
At This Moment Of Time
by Delmore Schwartz
Some who are uncertain compel me. They fear
The Ace of Spades. They fear
Loves offered suddenly, turning from the mantelpiece,
Sweet with decision. And they distrust
The fireworks by the lakeside, first the spuft,
Then the colored lights, rising.
Tentative, hesitant, doubtful, they consume
Greedily Caesar at the prow returning,
Locked in the stone of his act and office.
While the brass band brightly bursts over the water
They stand in the crowd lining the shore
Aware of the water beneath Him. They know it. Their eyes
Are haunted by water
Disturb me, compel me. It is not true
That "no man is happy," but that is not
The sense which guides you. If we are
Unfinished (we are, unless hope is a bad dream),
You are exact. You tug my sleeve
Before I speak, with a shadow's friendship,
And I remember that we who move
Are moved by clouds that darken midnight.
On December 8, 1913 in Brooklyn, New York Harry and Rose Schwartz welcomed son Schwartz into their world. The couple were both immigrants from Romania. They had a rocky marriage from the start and ended up separating. His parents failed marriage played a large role in the poet's own life for years to come. Despite all the turmoil in his childhood Schwartz was a gifted child from the start. He entered into college at an early age and eventually got his degree in philosophy from New York University.
In 1936 he won the Bowdoin Prize in the Humanities for his essay “Poetry as Imitation.” He followed that piece with a short story “In Dreams Begin Responsibilities” in 1937. This short story, written in a month and was published in Partisan Review, then published again in 1938 in his first book “In Dreams Begin Responsibilities and Other Stories” along with other poems and poses Schwartz had written. It received a lot of recognition and was the inspiration for the Star Trek movie Star Trek: Generations.
Schwartz received a professorship at Harvard where he taught and lectured for twelve years. He married his first wife Gertrude Buckman in 1937. Their marriage seemed to mimic his parents failed marriage and the couple separated six years later. His second marriage years later in 1948 to a much younger novelist, Elizabeth Pollet also failed after he got into a fight with a man he believed she was having an affair with. Schwartz writing continued throughout his troubled personal life and published many pieces in the Partisan Review.
Schwartz started his career with great success but in his later years he was unable to recapture that glory. He suffered from alcoholism and depression, until finally his mental state just spiral out of control. He eventually became a recluse and spent his last year of life in isolation. He died of a heart attack on July 11, 1966, at age 52. His body was said to be found two days later.
From The Graveyard
By The Sea by Delmore Schwartz
This hushed surface where the doves parade
Amid the pines vibrates, amid the graves;
Here the noon's justice unites all fires when
The sea aspires forever to begin again and again.
O what a gratification comes after long meditation
O satisfaction, after long meditation or ratiocination
Upon the calm of the gods
Upon the divine serenity, in luxurious contemplation!
What pure toil of perfect lightning enwombs, consumes,
Each various manifold jewel of imperceptible foam,
And how profound a peace appears to be begotten and
begun
When upon the abyss the sunlight seems to pause,
The pure effects of an eternal cause:
Time itself sparkles, to dream and to know are one....
Thank you all!
Stormy Lady
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