Abecedarian for the Horses in a Trailer on Route 66 ; Ode to Kool-Aid by Marcus Jackson; Summer Morn in New Hampshire by Claude McKay 1889 –1948; From “A Rain of Stars” (Plidetwal) by Évelyne Trouillot; Marvel by Alicia Hoffman; Diwān over the Prince of Emgión translated by Gunnar Ekelöf
his week's selection is quite an assemblage ranging from a form poem (following the English alphabet), a Haitian poem translated from Creole, to a tiny taste and minuscule introduction to sufic mysticism translated by Swedish Poet Gunnar Ekelöf in turn translated into English.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunnar_Ekel%C3%B6fAs ever, I appreciate the variety in our lively discussions which affirm an intricate and complex beauty in the variety of lenses provided in the poems, and in each participant.
Nutshell:
Abecedarian : for many this is a new form. The structure of "following" the alphabet could lead to "alphabet soup" -- and on first read, some felt it was like "following a pre-Alzheimer state of mind". The note confirms that it is written by a 15-year old, but who seems quite precocious, already thinking of how she might look at her work 10 or even 50 years hence. The idea of a poem as a time capsule is intriguing.
As always, the more the poem was discussed, the better sense it made as people noticed how she made use of sights, sounds, and this idea of conversing with horses in a trailer pulled by the VW she is driving down Route 66. We felt part of this journey, and admired her questions about life... where does it lead us? where are we going? If we grieve, do we understand what for if we don't know how to begin to think about how life began?
By the time we get to W, you might see that sometimes a letter is used twice in the line-up: there are 2 lines starting with E... 2 starting with G, H, W and Y. the X is almost cheating with "exit" and of course the last line is "outside" the constraint of the alphabet! Indeed... an exploration of restriction and freedom mimicked in the form! There is something courageous in leading up to the ending... the heat, the idea of there is "no too late", no numbers, and realizing there is only "now"... a "yell that is pounding hooves and hot zenith of living" -- and those last 4 words: "so free it hurts."
Ode: at first, you might not notice it is a persona poem. "You" is the Kool Aid. There were many, many associations with this packet of synthetically flavored and colored, the Kool Aid stands set up in summer, the fun of being able to make it yourself as a small child... and conversely, for many a memory of how disgusting it tasted and how it earned the name "bug juice" on camping trips. Tom Wolfe's book came up as well:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Electric_Kool-Aid_Acid_Test We enjoyed the easy-going, but pithy manner of the poet. Example: calling water "metallic stream" from the tap... the verb "whirlpooling" for the extra sugar added -- and the simile of those funny names to "tiles on the elemental table" and how the stuff dyes a mustache above the top lip as if a toddler had kissed paint.
The last 8 lines compose a different tone of one sentence. It bites with sarcasm, ending with the enigmatic detail of Granddad taking out his teeth "to make more mouth to admit you." Do we need "factory-crafted packets, unpronounceable ingredients, cuteness, unnatural sweetness????" Jackson cleverly underscores class difference that trendy folk don't deal with.
Summer Morn: The first line, so cleverly enjambed, emphasizes the pouring rain and one comment was how the "movement" in nature mirrors the emotional movement in the poet. We were taken by the sumptuous sibilance of the second 4-line sentence filled with sensuous detail. We did discuss the form, popular at the time, with each line beginning with a capital, and every other line slightly indented and of course rhyme. As Judith commented, quoting the sarcastic commentary, "What a pity Shakespeare is so old fashioned" about "Moderns" changing the "rules", getting sidetracked on such things focusses on nit-picking instead of the poem. As Abe Lincoln is quoted to say, "how many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? 4. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg."
Yes, McKay was part of the Harlem Renaissance, and yes, brought up in Jamaica on 18th c. classical British poetry, but this poem delivers an emotional punch, no matter the difficult syntax in the line "the sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn". You can see a sheet of gold spread out. The contrast with the unexpected reason why he couldn't be moved by such radiant beauty he describes doubles in effect. "I was blind with hunger for your love."
The subject of the title came up-- and of course, our favorite thing to do as readers, have a conversation with the poem, create our version of it. One person suggested "Summer Mourn"... which because poetry is a spoken musical art could be understood by the ear, even if not changing the spelling on paper. Another suggestion "Summer born" as there is the sense of a birthing after the rain. It came up as well that the poem looks like a sonnet, especially with a volta (turn) on the 8th line but is 16 lines.
Excerpt from a Rain of Stars: The note is important. The translation from the Creole conjures up the pain, where words feel of no avail... what prayer, in what language can reach a God, kneeling in such famine and poverty, even "Love has lost its name".
Marvel: We admired how the title, which could be a noun, is used as unspoken verb in each question. Alicia had used this technique as well with the word "miracle" -- which leads to the conclusion, is there not anything that is not? We loved how the questions invite the reader in. There is time to ponder the power of "marvel" and if we are capable of marveling.
Diwān over the Prince of Emgión
This poem of mine is without rhyme: I intend by it
only Her.
The word 'Her' is my aim for Her sake I am
not fond of bartering except with 'Give' and "Take'.
Richard read more, translating from the Swedish, explaining how each piece Ekelöf translated from the 12th century mystic can stand by itself. He also shared an illustrated book of these verses which helps one to fathom better the power of this Divinity, and longing for relationship with her. How do you understand "give and take"?
It was helpful to hear the slight pause after the 3rd line: "for Her sake I am".
the powerful implication "for Her sake I am not fond of bartering" carried forth -- perhaps as Marna put it,
both a selfish way as well as humane way of being.
Richard explained the "Her" as embodiment of love, forgiveness, compassion.
There is also the Sufi mysticism which embraces emptiness... can't know this female...
About the illustrator: Lena Crownquist.
Richard translated from Swedish what she said about the process of creating the illustrations:
I didn't get the whole thing but this gives an idea.
no glass wall between me and the world.
be careful not to be drawn into reality...
tolerate the world in small doses.
Gunnar holds me by the hand singing lullabies calmly.
the poems become pictures
he rings in the pauses between the word.
**
The flowers are sleeping in the window
and the window stares without thinking of the dark outside.
the paintings show without soul what they are supposed to.
"And the flies are motionless on the wall, thinking"
the flowers lean out
the lamp is purring light
in the corner the cat is purring pulling a woolen to sleep with
coffee pot snoring now and then... feeling good about it.
children playing quietly with words on the floor.
the white laid out table waiting
for someone never coming up the stairs
A train which is drilling through the silence in the distance
does not reveal things' secret
but destiny counts the striking of the clock with decimal marks.
*** from Selected Poems of Gunnar Ekelöf (1907-1968) translated by W.H.Auden and Lief Sjöberg
No comments:
Post a Comment