In honor of Black History month:
I look at the world -- Langston Hughes
A Song for many movements -- Audrey Lorde
Nutshell of poem 2/25 + 27
Literary Theory: It seems that Limón is exploring the grey shades of language but with a hint of the larger context of humans vs. nature. Thank you Jessica for sharing the anthology she edited and introduced, You are Here , which explores the human relationship to nature.
What is "literary theory" and how does the title work in this poem? It is interesting that she starts with the sound of words within words where allow starts with an open vowel, swallow indeed, forcing allow inside. To swallow: verb is one thing, but the noun, could be a winged gnat hunter is entirely different, and would that be how you might describe the swallow?
We picked up on the adjective brutish, and the blinking like a morse code to confirm or refute definitions. How do we define meanings? I like that her poem ends on the undefined word,
swallow, a word that is read... but the meanings expand beyond it to all that could mean. Are you a bit curious to know how "all her feathers show"-- and how might yours?
Epitaph: Published in Auden’s book Another Time. Scholars generally believe Auden was inspired to write it after spending time in Berlin, Germany, in the 1930's. Regardless, a fine summary and definition of a tyrant. The cadence sounds noble, the contrasts of end rhymes
(what he's after/laughter; understand/his hand/ fleets/streets) embellishes the negative connotations.
Hearing your words: This sonnet by Edna St. Vincent Millay, who would summer in Maine captures the wild nature of the Maine Coast. Her moods often are revealed in description of weather and here the sense is one of repressed anger. Who is the "you" that speaks "words"-- without a word among them to her liking? There is marvelous tension, whether the onslaught of waves, the sturdiness of the women and their gardens with dahlia tubers dripping from their hands, and the men out to sea. Endurance is key. To enjoy a taste of Millay, this site offers insights as well as samples.
Two Set Out on Their Journey: Almost like a sermon or a parable, illustrated by a brother and sister, probably older in life, contemplated their lives. Although we don't know the details, the emotion is strong. What do you feel reading the words unfolding in five lines: If an ancestor has pressed/ a love-flower for us, it will like hidden/between pages of the slow going,/where only those who adore the story/ever read. Re-read, and "slow going" feels like the slowing down towards the end of life, and the flower, the advice to be mindful as we go about life, the reading a sort of review of it. Indeed, a gift of growing older is to find what seems so deadly serious, isn't.
Sure, there will be sorrow... but that gift of time... indeed lightens the heart.
Tonight I am in Love: the title is in quotes, but I couldn't find the reference. For some, it might seem like an exercise in selecting lines from English poetry from the 13th century, (the anonymous sonne under wode) through Shakespeare, Sir Thomas Wyatt , William Blake and many others about love. It is a love poem to poetry, and all it brings... we are indeed "wounded with tenderness for all who labored" (the wound introduced by reference the stanza before of
" Jesus’ wounds so wide." and references to Christianity which would have been more part of the time period that anything to do with the poem.) It could be the line "For God Sake's hold your tongue and let me love" first line of John Donne's Canonization was the narrator's wish to write her own lines, bolstered as she is by old familiars.
The Gift to Sing: I think of the lot, this was a strong favorite because of the message so beautifully delivered as music. It feels authentic, and real. Only one end rhyme per stanza with the refrain, which subtly changes from tentative singing (blackening clouds about me cling) to persistent singing (shadowed by Sorrow's somber wings to an affirmation of singing itself (whatever time may bring). If you are not familiar with the poet, do enjoy this link.
Joy: The title becomes clear in the 12th line of the 3rd stanza. The delay of addressing what joy is, filled with different voices discounting the power of music increases the resounding repeat,
joy joy, the sopranos sing,/reaching for the shimmering notes/while our eyes fill with tears.
What is the nameless opposite? All that is not sung, expressed, not included, on that other seemingly parallel line of sorrow. The poem reassures us, so often baffled by emotion, yes,
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