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For a long time I have
wanted to create a space to put up poems that are significant
to me, many of which have been written by unknown writers or which lie
outside the canonized bodies of work of more famous writers. Many of the
poems I am drawn to are wildly discursive, and that usually means long,
but I have also been meaning to prod myself to develop a larger mental
data base of poems, and shorter poems seem more ammenable to memorization by heart. So this will be a sort
of mish-mash: memory poems, forgotten poems, never even remembered poems,
unanthologized poems Saturday, June 06, 2009
Report: that I have been making progress when it comes to memorization: "Richard Cory" by Robinson, "Pied Beauty" by Hopkins, "Casabianca" by Bishop, "When I Consider How My Light Was Spent" by Hopkins, "The Voice" by Hardy, "Three Moves" by John Logan, "Of Mere Being" by Stevens, "Death of the Ball Turret Gunner." Most of these have rhyme to help me along, except for "Of Mere Being," which was difficult, because it lacked this mnemonic device.
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Recently I discovered James Schuyler, one of the New York poets who also qualifies as a nature poet, who puts nature off kilter enough to rouse the skeptical. This poem is one that's been an the back of my mind; now to bring it into the fore. Salute Past is past, and if one remembers what one meant to do and never did, is not to have thought to do enough? Like that gather- ing of one each I planned, to gather one of each kind of clover, daisy, paintbrush that grew in that field the cabin stood in and study them one afternoon before they wilted. Past is past. I salute that various field. Labels: A good one |
