Because of the July 4 holiday, there was no session July 3 at Writers and Books.
The Human Constitution by Jim Armstrong; Spell by Katherine Gale DaCosta; I, Too by Langston Hughes; Ghazal: The Dark Times by Marilyn Hacker; The Andalusian Dog Finds Answers Pablo Medina; Bells in the Rain by Elinor Wylie; Fire and Sleet and Candlelight by Elinor Wylie;
extra: Anaphora Using Wilfred Owen’s Line “If you could hear, at every jolt” and A Bowl of Spaghetti by Kimiko Hahn
(click on hyperlinks for the poems) by Kimiko Hahn (click on this hyperlink to find out more about Kimiko, the current NY State Laureate and one of the readers at the Flower City Poetry Festival in June in Highland Park.
NUTSHELL:
A general comment that comes up with the weekly discussion of poems is that often, reading them by oneself, one's opinion of them might skirt a negative view with an urge for a rapid dismissal. However, reliably, and perhaps equally rapidly, there is a redemptive quality about discussion in person with others, which often results in appreciation for having encountered them.
Poetry has as many flavors and forms as languages in which it is written to respond to the circumstances of being human. The first two poems, seem to address our "Human Condition" and desire for some magic "Spell" by their title alone. Both are from the group Just Poets, founded in 2004 as an offshoot of Rochester Poets, where the word "just" means both "fair" but also, "without pretention" and the annual anthology is called "Le Mot Juste" the French for the "most accurate word".
The Human Constitution: We started out enjoying the alliterations (fettle of you fusing), free speech muscles wither to whispers, but soon felt the poet was administering an overdose of cleverness, The anger provoked by abuse of a Bill of Rights was clear as was the analogy of an amputated legal document to our human body, both of which are best served with humane treatment.
Spell: In a similar fashion, the play on title as the act of creating letters and a sense of magic was also clever and original. However, some felt it was too laborious, lacking in emotion and one called it an OTR (One Time Rave). On the other hand, all of us agree, there is something akin to magic in the power of words. Note, the poet was careful not to use that word, magic, but showed one way in which to craft it.
I, Too : from Weary Blues (1926)
We have discussed this poem before, but it felt fitting to bring it to attention a few days before the 250th celebration of the this country on "Independence Day". It is ironic that the founding fathers were not exempt from the mistakes of Old Europe, and poorly disguised a feudal slave state. The eloquence of Langston Hughes expressed in simple terms, underlines an innocent, almost childlike insistence that "tomorrow" (a word isolated on one line) will be different from "then" (also isolated on one line, and can refer both to the past, but also what will happen next. The tone is complex and strikes straight at the heart. We spoke of the implications of "ashamed". One person brought up Rita Bell's (b. 1925) Bell Ringer show, and her courage to set an example, advocating for women in broadcasting during a time when female on-air talent was rare. Another brought up Don Shirley whose story is told in the 2018 film Green Book, the name of a travel guide for black motorists in the segregated United States.
In the Dark Times: Hacker uses a line from Bertold Brecht in his poem "Motto" in her title and first couplete of this ghazal. One person asked, what point out it is a ghazal in the title? It's a good question, but could possibly be putting emphasis on a form adopted by Western culture. She also uses Arabic ya akhy which means my brother in the 3rd couplet before the end. Likewise, some did not know the word menhirs, an ancient monumental stone in different parts of the world. Brecht's poem in German, is on 4 lines so that the repeat of "In the dark times" stresses the change of the first word "About the dark times". Note that Hacker repeats this line as refrain.
In the dark times, will there also be singing?
Yes, there will be singing.
About the dark times.
In den finsteren Zeiten,
Wird da auch gesungen werden?
Da wird auch gesungen werden.
Von den finsteren Zeiten.
The poem was written in 2017, and with the second term of Trump, the final question is as pertinent as ever to address what each of us does, or fails to do.
You come home from your meeting, your clinic, make coffee and look in the mirror
And ask yourself once more what you did to bring about the dark times.
The Andalusian Dog Finds Answers Pablo Medina: I hyperlinked the poet, so you could see his Cuban background. I told the group that I did not chose the poem because of the 1929 Silent French movie Un Chien Andalou but because of the opening line: God likes to be played like a piano. When dealing with surrealism, your guess is as good as anyone's to arrive at anything that ressembles "accurate" understanding. How do you understand that opening line and how do you relate the poem to the title?
It would seem Medina has chosen images from the movie with its shocking, disjointed imagery and dream-logic narrative. As one person put it, reading the poem is like going to a modern art museum specializing in surrealist works.
two poems by Elinor Wylie: I was sad that Judith was not part of the discussion, as she had recommended them as examples of good anti-war poetry.
We have discussed Wilfred Owens before and his powerful "Dulce et Decorum Est".
Wylie uses a different approach. The Bells in the Rain indeed would seem to be the title of a lyrical poem that has nothing to do with war... even that first quatrain seems to entertain that "peace" is available and possible.
Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain,
Upon the steep cliffs of the town.
Sleep falls; men are at peace again
While the small drops fall softly down.
How beautifully she carries forth and repeats Sleep... and it is the grass which is peaceful and the rain falls so softly on stone.
To snap you out of any reverie, the final stanza slaps you with a horrifying pivot .
The other poem, longer, ends with a cryptic note... again "sleep" as what one does buried (although many soldiers do not have a grave).
Straight as an arrow
You fall to a sleep
Not too narrow
And not too deep.
I brought up as an addition a poem by Kimiko Hahn Anaphora Using Wilfred Owen’s Line “If you could hear, at every jolt” . It comes from the final stanza of the Wilfred Owens poem. I immediately thought of If by Rudyard Kipling -- such a small word... which such large sequels.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
To end on a cheerier note, I read A Bowl of Spaghetti by Kimiko Hahn. You might enjoy reading more of her work: more poems by Hahn:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/161139/against-opulence
her poem side by side with Thomas Hardy's which inspired hers.
