Whoa! This photo looked waaaaay different on my home monitor. Anyway...Your assignment is to help me with my assignment. Hubby is using me as a guinea pig to test out ideas for his creative writing class. My assignment (overdue, I'm failing already!) is to gather a little information from someone I know. Well, I know you so I ask you...can you recommend a poem you enjoy? How did you find it and why are you recommending it to me? I'll take as many responses as you would like to give. Either leave a comment or email me (asta_pup at yahoo.com) with your answers.
Thank you.
Whatcha doin' this weekend? I think I'll be racing around, starting to pull things together for the vacation but I think I'd like do a little BBQ down by the river or in the backyard. I'd like to finish my assignment (nudge, nudge). I'd like to get some tomato cages on my tomato children. Rip out some invasive species. Lounge. Enjoy life.
5 comments:
I'd like to get cages on my cageless tomato minions, too. And work on some more quilt squares. And drink some beer. And paint. And make russian black bread. Oh dear, I have alot I want to do...
I'd like to help you with your assignment, but I can't seem to think of a single poem to save my life right now. My apologies. I'm sure others will make up for my inadequacy.
Wow quite the assignment. I love anything by Maria Rainer Rilkey. I will find the poem I am thinking of and post it for you.
Eve
Look how she stands, high on the steep facade
of the cathedral, near the window-rose,
simply, holding in her hand the apple,
judged for all time as the guiltless-guilty
for the growing fruit her body held
which she gave birth to after parting from
the circle of eternities. She left
to face the strange New Earth, so young in years.
Oh, how she would have loved to stay a little
longer in that enchanted garden, where
the peaceful gentle beasts grazed side by side.
But Adam was resolved to leave, to go
out into this New Earth, and facing death
she followed him. God she had hardly known.
Maria Rainer Rilkey
I tried to post this and it is not letting me!!!! I think I love this poem because there is that reference that a woman follows a man to places because she loves him...and we as women just do that.
Hey, Ani - I've been MIA for quite a while but decided to stop by - glad you're well and still blogging!
My favorite poem right now is the Shadow poem by Robert Louis Stevenson:
I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow— 5
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way. 10
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, 15
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
Because that's Kid Knitting's favorite poem right now.
Hugs,
KM
I'm submitting this one by Pablo Neruda for your assignment. His writing makes me melt a bit inside. I first read it in college while researching a paper for my Spanish class.
"Saddest Poem"
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
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