Edgar Allen Poe once described sleep as “those little slices of death,” and in some ways I feel Sylvia Plath’s Mad Girl would feel similar. Humans’ eyesight is our primary sense, and cutting that off limits us to sensory input ranging the length of our arms (a bit farther, if your hearing is good). The […]
Category Archive for 'Poetry'
He sleeps in the grass as I pull up the driveway. The noise of the engine wakes him and he lurches upright, Tail swishing away the summer flies, Uneven ears pricked to catch the sound. Sunny canters along the fence, keeping pace with the car, and Blue joins in. Romeo trots lazily after them. I […]
I know It is not visible without a telescope And yet I lie in the grass on a Monday night Searching the blue-black sky For its speck of light.
Anna Little girl, master of reason, stoops to inspect a pine cone and a truck swerves into the other lane. She put on her running shoes in preparation and sought out her most perfect purse lined in hot pink satin. Skipping along the path chosen, laughter and curiosity made/rise into companions. Somersaults and afternoon thrills […]
Spinning like a silhouette, She is held together by a couple of strings Dancing like a marionette The lights go dim and the stage is set She moves under the watchful eyes of queens and kings Spinning like a silhouette To the haunting melodies of a string quartet She bends, her heart aching, […]
September, bright and invigorating. Yellow leaves dance on their branches, waving at me on long walks on Wednesday mornings October, harsh and forlorn. Brown leaves crumble and sigh, crunching beneath my feet, dead, on short walks on Thursday evenings December, frigid and dark. The leaves are all gone as I watch from my […]
-In remembrance of Randy- Why is all I see, nothing but a bright light? I used to see it all, oranges, browns, blues and red. But those have faded compared to the crisp white. I feel as high as a flimsy kite. The trolley on Saint Charles Ave. passes my bachelor pad […]
I stare out to the vast unknown. The sand in between my toes as the sea draws near. Rocking back and forth, it is a never-ending cycle. Colors now paint the horizon orange, pink, purple, and some blue. Only the ripples distinguish from above. Life and death, the earth’s revolution around the sun, […]
Today my mother turns sixty-two. Over twenty years ago she introduced me to the works of Dylan Thomas. He remains in the favorite category for us both. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight. Power and mystery are ever present as I remain captivated by the energy derived from a handful of […]
Elizabeth Bishop’s poem “One Art” is a villanelle about coping with the loss of a loved one. It is probably my favorite out of the group of poems for this week, just for the style. Villanelles are an entirely new style of poetry for me, and I love them because they sound like lyrics just […]
Of this week’s selection of poems, Sylvia Plath’s “Mad Girl’s Love Song” was my favorite. I’ve always found eccentric, possibly crazy characters fascinating, and the speaker here was no exception. The villanelle style of repeating lines added to the “madness” of the voice – made it seem desperate and not exactly sane. The parentheses around […]
T.R. Hummer’s “Where You Go When She Sleeps” is a poem that evokes a dreamy, surreal moment in time, as a man (the speaker) falls in love with the woman sleeping with her head in his lap. The poem is a run-on sentence, trawling through the color of the woman’s hair, a color the man […]
Posted in Poetry on Nov 15th, 2016
James Wright’s poem “Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio” is one of those poems that is very subtle about the use of its poetic devises. It relies on natural pauses in speech patterns to dictate line breaks. There is only one instance of enjambment: “Their sons grow suicidally beautiful / At the beginning of October.” […]
Posted in Poetry on Nov 14th, 2016
This was a poem that made me think. It was a poem about relaxing – until it wasn’t. The tone was calm and peaceful, and I could see the scene so clearly in my mind: lying in a hammock on a summer day, a gentle breeze blowing, just watching the day go by. And then […]
I may have deleted Robert Hayden’s “Those Winter Sundays” In a drowsy stupor at 6 am. I was trying to open it But it vanished. So I changed all the folder colors To Roy G. Biv. If you smile, Maybe I’m off the hook?
“The Girl with Antlers” is unlike any other poem I’ve read. While that may not be many, I’ve still read enough to know that this one stands out. It reads almost like prose; it was easy to lose myself in the way the lines flowed rather than think about how I was supposed to read it […]
In her poem “The Girl with Antlers,” Ansel Elkins explores what it is to be an outsider. The main character is a girl born with a pair of deer antlers who is left in the forest to die by her mother’s midwife, but is taken in and raised by another woman. As Elkins says in […]
The wind flung a magpie away and a black- Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly… — Ted Hughes, “Wind” This poem is full of remarkable metaphors: a house “far out at sea all night,” the woods “crashing through darkness,” the “skyline a grimace,” the house ringing “like some fine green goblet in the […]
I remember when, years ago, I would read Donald Justice’s poem “Men at Forty” with a kind of anticipatory nostalgia, imagining the sweet melancholy I would feel when I left my thirties behind and joined the legions of men who must, as Justice puts it, “learn to close softly / The doors to rooms […]