O Pen !

Tuesday, June 2, 2026

Poems for May 27+29

At the Entrance of a Love Poem, I Hesitate by Maya C. Popa; Keep My Poems by Yahya Ashour;

Poets Walk Poems: The Writer by William Bronk; Playtime by William Bronk; The Tally Stick by Jarold Ramsey; Brahma by Ralph Waldo Emerson; One Heart by Li-Young Lee, excerpt from Nocturno de San Ildefonso by Octavio Paz; [this last poem was written after the establishment of Poets Walk: Equus by Mary Hood.

Nutshell:

At the Entrance: This poem intrigued everyone, and we easily could have spent an afternoon appreciating the multiple directions and possibilities of it offers for our understanding.

The title is unusual: A love poem entrance? How might you explain entering a love poem?

Why does the poet hesitate? Is she unsure of the poem, of love, or perhaps offput by the vast

treasury of love poems already written?

Each couplet begs multiple questions, and invites multiple responses, but most everyone agreed,

it did not feel like an exercise in frustration.

again", with regret? What is the implication of leaving through the window?

2nd Couplet: It's a fragment but implies the state of being in love, and then the "after", which

underscores the power of love, even if over, it is a primal shaping force. The word remainder,

could also be "what's left" as in math which echoes in the penultimate couplet as well

(multiplying gravities).

3rd couplet: a welcome image (whale turning slowly mistake for a continent) to explain "the

change" that love sets in motion, and yet as clueless as the gulls.

4th couplet. puzzling. What is the exquisite inquiry? If you don't know, but feel a response, is

that enough? Does it dissolve any question?

The next 5 couplets address the nature of a love poem, it would seem from a writer's point of

view. What are the conventions? Do they do the trick or is she mocking them? One person

wondered if Shakespeare were not doing the same thing in "Shall I compare thee to a summer's

day." How can form, convention "keep up" (note the enjambment/stanza break to emphasize

lagging behind) the heart's multiplying gravities?

The image of a gallery of mirrors, the final mention of "likeness" as a life gives a sense of

process and shaping, where the "we" of the poem could be the poet's lover or special person.

Although using the past tense, one senses it will be on-going and the poem ends on a positive

note.

One could spend a long time discussing how one knows who someone is-- starting with one's

own self. What lies behind a desire to write love poems. There is a lovely authenticity about

Maya Popa. Click the hyperlink to find out more about her, her PhD on wonder in poetry.

Keep My Poems: This title at first blush does not seem to have anything to do with the didactic

implications of form in poetry in the proverb the poet's father used (according to the note, for all

but poetry). How does the poet mean "Keep My Poems"? To whom is he speaking? He speaks

of parts of poems exposed, or tucked in, and uses the verb "lies", which could imply the sense of

poetry not telling truth, but given the context of the stanza, most probably is showing "how

poetry lies in a poet's satisfaction with their blanket". He uses for himself, the verb "pursuit"

which could harken to the historic etymology of going towards (pro) and sequi (to follow). For

those after lines which don't "fit their blankets" he uses the verb "hunt". Is he contrasting his

pursuit of "tender lines, for the sake of beauty"

, with those seeking outside their blankets? The

harsh verb, "amputate" and noun "butcher" evoke jarring images and we wondered if influenced

by his background as exile from Gaza. Yahya Ashour indeed visibly "chops" with two lines of

1only two syllables: exposed in 2nd stanza and for lines in the 3rd stanza, enjambed to that don't

fit their blankets. There are hundreds of different forms poetry can take, which determine the

nature of the message. Free verse has no rules, no set meter, no rhyme scheme, and no structural

requirements. but relies entirely on the natural rhythm of speech, natural pauses, and the poet's

choice of line breaks.

Pairing of poems on Poets Walk with sculptures in the MAG (Memorial Art Museum)

Sculpture Garden

If you wish a complete list of the 114 poems on Poets Walk, with the "poem tile prompts" kindly

let me know. I had done a lot of work with such pairing when Poet and Story walk were initiated

in 2008 as docent, to help appreciate such sculptures as Wailana, Unicorn Family, Creation

Myth, Vertical Ventaglio, 2 lines up-excentric, soliloquy. The poetry chosen for the walk is from

19th and 20th century poets who have a connection with Rochester, whether a visiting lecturer,

connected to BOA publications, DIAL magazine, Rochester Poets, founded in 1920 as the

Rochester, New York, chapter of the Poetry Society of America, or Just Poets (founded in 2004).

The pairings are merely suggestions, and are not intended to establish a formal connection to

either the poems and the sculptures. The poem tiles themselves were the "pithiest" language of

each poem chosen by the designer of the walk to suggest an array of themes

Playtime by William Bronk (1918-1999)

We wondered if "resumes" was the noun, resumé not the verb. The poem indeed hints at the

game of life and applies to the nature of art as a conversation, or theatre.

addition from notes from 2015 !!! Poetry is about reality the way a lens is

about light". There are many ways the mind turns to make "We / Us" work in ways we are used to, and yet, the poem refuses logic. My question was to come up with labels for the tone, and the feeling this creates. Some answers: opaque/childlike/facebookish—revealing everything-nothing at same time, like a palimpsest... (presence that seems like an absence...) Other notes: Adult relationships – images we present to each other... God vs. minimized humans... not mocking... but attempts to understand... Play... and games... time-- what gives the “us” substance...yet Leaves us hanging...without hope...

The title itself condenses "Play" (theatre, as well as playground/game play) and time

another loaded word which can both tick chronologically, or sweep abstractly through seasons of life.

The Tally Stick by Jarold Ramsey (link to 1985 Rochester Review in which it is printed.)

[paired with Nathan Mabry: Process Art: (An Eye for an Eye)

We thought of a totem pole as the collection of our stories carved in Mountain mahogany (a

Northern Mexican wood, also found in the American SW). Arrowheads, crosses, events, history,

evidence of "the Year the World Went Wrong", wars. The metaphor of lengthening runes of our

lives suggests ancient secrets and mysteries. And yet, mention of regrets is followed by the

positive note, of the last 5 lines holding this tally stick, encouraging us to re-examine the signs.

Paired with the Nathan Mabry, an incongruous pairing of an oversized old man's head on a

young body, the outstretched arms are reminiscent of Plato (pointing up) and Aristotle (pointing

down), famously depicted at the center of Raphael's 1509 Renaissance fresco, The School of

Athens. Plato (pointing to the heavens) represents his theory of "Forms," suggesting that true

reality and universal truths exist in an ideal, spiritual realm beyond our physical world. Aristotle

(pointing to the earth): Symbolizes his focus on empiricism, observation, and the material world,

indicating that truth is found by studying the physical nature around us.

Brahma: written in 1856, and published in the November 1857 issue of The Atlantic.

[paired with Jun Kaneko, Untitled, “Dango}

It is named for Brahman, the universal principle of the Vedas. The sacred seven symbolizes

powerful deities who aspire for a higher state of being but are hindered by their desires. This

highlights the contrasts between spiritual aspirations and the limitations of earthly cravings.

Paired with the Dango (dumpling in Japanese) by Japanese-American Jun Kaneko.

I hyperlink for those interested in a little more depth.

Versus by Tony Cragg: + Li-Young Lee, One Heart. I showed the importance of walking around a

sculpture, as depending on the angle, one will have a very different view... just as in poetry. We

didn't have time to discuss the poem.

Lines from Octavio Paz + Pia Camil, Lover's Rainbow.

Lover’s Rainbow at the MAG is a 42-foot-wide, 16 1/2-ft tall arc of painted stainless steel rebar. compare with the

one on US-Mexico Border https://desertx.org/dx/archive/lovers-rainbow

https://zonaoctaviopaz.com/detalle_conversacion/151/nocturno-de-san-ildefonso/

Equus by Mary Hood, paired with Wailana which in Hawaiian means tranquil waters.

The poem is in 4 stanzas, and written after the selection of poets/poems for poets walk.

I want to stress that Poets Walk is not a definitive compendium of poems! It so happens that this ekphrastic is one of the best I have seen for this powerful sculpture by Deborah Butterfield.

Below is the entire poem.

Equus by Mary Hood

to Jody.

Head bowed a scaffolded horse

mummers the ghostly song of wind

moving through skeletal bronze-

is she hurt, exhausted. starved?

something seems not quite right.

Like a found poem with the familiar

refashioned, she was first constructed

of the commonplace, wood, scrap

metal, branches, junkyard stuff, plastic

a collage of the ordinary

then forged in bronze.

In winter snow gathers on her back.

In summer her patina blazes with sunlight.

In spring she gleams with rain droplets-

a horse for all seasons.

She has survived many years

but there comes a time.

She stands alone, riderless, tackless.

She has always been riderless

never owned by anyone but the wind

And if she were to loosen her hoofs

walk off into the distance she would

lift off, smoothly, flowingly

with the fluidity of winged

Pegasus.

Mary, a local poet, is a professor emerita of University of West Florida and has published several collections of

poetry and general articles on conservation and the environment and numerous scientific technical articles in the

field of microbial ecology. You will see it is dedicated to Jody, one of Mary's graduate students who went on to get a

PhD in microbiology and a successful career as a professor at University South Fl and then Dean, a mother,

grandmother, writer. also a championship equestrian rider…. such a beautiful soul..

Saturday, May 16, 2026

Poems for May 13 and 15

End of the Comedy by Louis Untermeyer 1885-1977; Cloud Hands by Arthur Sze; i take my glasses off Lucille Clifton 1936 –2010 (to share: my notes about Blake +); Their Lonely Betters by W.H. Auden; Peonies by Danusha Laméris; Morning News by Marilyn Hacker;

Nutshell

End of the Comedy: A fitting comparison between the "theatre of war" and inferred comparison of going home after seeing a play. The opening line may well refer to the news of the armistice signed on the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month". The military vocabulary effectively compresses a sense of dread in the second stanza as the war was not officially declared over until June 1919 after this poem was published. For more about Untermeyer and a sampling of his poems and This explanation of the poem, with a score for piano and voice that the poem alludes to. One person was reminded of MCMXIV (1914) by Philip Larkin.

Cloud Hands: It certainly helps to know T'ai Chi -- and know what Cloud Hands and Grasping Bird's Tail look like. "In the "Introductory" of Modern British Poetry (1920), Untermeyer wrote, "All art is a twofold revivifying -- a recreation of subject and a reanimating of form. And poetry becomes perennially “new” by returning to the old -- with a different consciousness, a greater awareness."

Arthur Sze provides us with a mosaic of scenes "outside" the T'ai Chi movements, providing a sense of moving energy in the couplets with the indented second line. As one person put it, we feel the grace of T'ai Chi as we journey through the images. Indeed, metaphor in motion!

i take my glasses off: We commented on the pros and cons of small case "i" and absence of punctuation. Lucille is consistent and it is part of her style. Short lines unfold and yet the line breaks do not feel like separation. Is she able to better to see herself without the "outside help" of glasses? We enjoyed the ambiguity of visioning visions vision where noun/verb/adjective possibilities roll into one bed of a line.

Some were reminded of Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:12, which beautifully captures the human experience of limited understanding, uncertainty, and the mysteries of faith. One person was sensitive to existential implications of what it is to simply "be".

I shared this about Wm Blake, Auguries of Innocence "Blake would insist that visionary sight must be developed before a judgement can be made and this plea is fundamental to learning from him. He offers both an invitation and a challenge. Can you too see more? Anything that speaks of Eternity may be an angel; thus the tiny skylark is ‘a Mighty Angel’. The poetry of William Blake is a study in contraries without contradictions. His verse rests on the fine balance of opposites, with the tension between divergent forces, such as good and evil, male and female, Innocence and Experience, playing a vital role in his work."Father Damien is the man who lived with lepers on Molokai. One person referenced "On Shapelessness." which mentioned Clifton's poem. Are the lepers a sort of distraction?

Their Lonely Betters: The syntax, rhyme, add a certain charm to this contrast of the world of nature with man, his metaphorical sunglasses and assumptions about "higher selves". Those who understand and study animals know in 2026 that animals have their own version of communication perhaps more effective as anything humans have invented. The cautionary message is even more powerful for those of us relying on calculations, relying on words, their misuse, abuse -- and no promises.

Peonies: I asked if anyone would like to sum up a first impression of the poem. "Wierd" said one. There is something whimsical, celebratory, and enjoyable, and yet, it's hard to know if the poet is mocking the reader with what seem like "made up" ancient proverbs. As for Peonies are to loneliness/what wind is to the trees : most of us couldn't fathom just what was meant or how. Is the poem addressing something about the human condition as did Auden in the previous poem? Why are peonies called "strangers" in the first line? They are costumed in ruffled collars and at the end, whisper balletic tulle. Is there a message here in the last two lines about how beauty persists in spite of death?

The poet's note helped me appreciate the poem more. She speaks to the mystery of peonies-- how even when cut, they continue to be alive and changing.

Morning News: It took me a few readings to realize the form was imitating a sestina, so of course, there would be repeats of bread, branches, photographs, war, houses, kitchen -- but, there is a seventh word, was, and 8 stanzas, not six or even seven, to match the seven words. The discussion brought up again the difference between poetry (and our expectations) and prose. Why so many questions that are answered, so not really effective? The only line that worked with a sense of some intuitive leap for me was this: A knife flashed in the kitchen,/merely dicing garlic. It implies more than the words. We agreed, the poem could have been written yesterday about the current situation in Iran. Curious that it was published in 2003, Desesperanto. March 2003, was the military campaign known as Operation Iraqi Freedom

Since we had both Auden and Hacker in the same session, Judith kind provided this:

Critic, do not beat your breast,

Though Chester Kallman is a pest,

he must have done strange things to broaden

the attitudes of Wystan Auden.

--Marilyn Hacker, from The Motion of Light In Water

first version

End of the Comedy: A fitting comparison between the "theatre of war" and inferred comparison of going home after seeing a play. The opening line may well refer to the news of the armistice signed on the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month". The military vocabulary effectively compresses a sense of dread in the second stanza as the war was not officially declared over until June 1919 after this poem was published. For more about Untermeyer and a sampling of his poems and This explanation of the poem, with a score for piano and voice that the poem alludes to.

Another was reminded of Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:12, beautifully captures the human experience of limited understanding, uncertainty, and the mysteries of faith.

One person was sensitive to existential implications of what it is to simply "be". I shared this about Wm Blake, Auguries of Innocence "Blake would insist that visionary sight must be developed before a judgement can be made and this plea is fundamental to learning from him. He offers both an invitation and a challenge. Can you too see more? Anything that speaks of Eternity may be an angel; thus the tiny skylark is ‘a Mighty Angel’. The poetry of William Blake is a study in contraries without contradictions. His verse rests on the fine balance of opposites, with the tension between divergent forces, such as good and evil, male and female, Innocence and Experience, playing a vital role in his work."Father Damien is the man who lived with lepers on Molokai. One person referenced "On Shapelessness." which mentioned Clifton's poem. Are the lepers a sort of distraction?

Jim Jordan adds: I think that it helps to read two lines together:

"Who count some days and long for certain letters ...

...Words are for those with promises to keep."

Both lines are about life itself, I would say. We count some days, ie, the days of our lives. (Don't we all at times think about our days that are passing, how many there are, how fast (it seems sometimes) they pass by. We have promises to keep: to our loved ones, to ourselves in order to live a good, worthy, organized life (as opposed for example to just doing as little as we can, just barely getting by, jiust doing nothing with this life). We would promise outselves to keep making our lives somehow worthwhile, to keep loving others, to keep striving for a good(!) (in many senses) life.

("We long for certain letters"; this may be just a humorous aside, that writers, poets in particular, are always trying to find the right word. It echoes and reinforces the parts about language earlier in the poem. It may also be a more serious reference to the need for art in our lives, and in particular to create art ourselves or at least strive to.) These two llines continue the seriousness he got into in the third stanza, after two stanzas of humor (and observation). These two lines always make me wistful, a little sad.

The poet's note helped me appreciate the poem more. She speaks to the mystery of peonies-- how even when cut, they continue to be alive and changing.

Morning News: It took me a few readings to realize the form was imitating a sestina, so of course, there would be repeats of bread, branches, photographs, war, houses, kitchen -- but, there is a seventh word, was, and 8 stanzas, not six or even seven, to match the seven words. The discussion brought up again the difference between poetry (and our expectations) and prose. Why so many questions that are answered, so not really effective? The only line that worked with a sense of some intuitive leap for me was this: A knife flashed in the kitchen,/merely dicing garlic. It implies more than the words. We agreed, the poem could have been written yesterday about the current situation in Iran. Curious that it was published in 2003, Desesperanto. March 2003, was the military campaign known as Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Since we had both Auden and Hacker in the same session, Judith kind provided this:

Critic, do not beat your breast,

Though Chester Kallman is a pest,

he must have done strange things to broaden

the attitudes of Wystan Auden.

--Marilyn Hacker, from The Motion of Light In Water

Saturday, May 9, 2026

May 6+8

Lochan by Kathleen Jamie; This Morning I Pray for My Enemies by Joy Harjo 1951 –; Before I Was a Gazan by Naomi Shihab Nye 1952 Iris Song Rickey Laurentiis[1] audio -- includes commentary; You Reading This, Be Ready by William Stafford; An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire; Chocolates by Louis Simpson; Short History by Jonathan Everitt;

Also sent: AI images! -- see Nutshells, May 2026

Lochan: I gave a small note for the two meanings of the word, both a "small lake" and in the Hindu tradition, a term related to "eye" or vision. It is helpful to know the poem comes from a collection entitled, Jizzen, yet another Scots term, albeit obsolete meaning confinement of a mother after birth of her child.

I love a poem that can be addressing a sweeping universal and a particular at the same time. So it is in the opening line: When all this is over, I mean... How many times do we say this, making promises? I mean is enjambed twice. Normally, we expect a re-definition or more details as opposed to what we intend to do. The poet surprises us by telling us what she means to do: travel north, find a quiet lochan. The line breaks and spaces between couplets give a lovely sense of breathing, enhanced by the anticipatory thinking. We wondered about the word "white"

implied perhaps in those mountain dog roses whose red can pale to white, perhaps the in the color of water lilies, and comparison of their reflection but certainly the word "white" in the last line for a boat. Here, it may not be chance that it is waiting as if part of a larger scheme, and under a Rowan tree which I associate with decorating with Christmas with its dark green leaves and red berries.

If one interprets the first line as meaning "after childbirth" all these details make me wonder if perhaps the poem is about the loss of a child?

Regardless, the poem slows us down, allows us to feel the travel from the "high/drove roads", those paths up into the hills where one drives the cattle in early summer to profit from the new grasses. And the Lochan? The word appears softly in the 5th stanza after imagining the physical landscape, launching a more metaphysical, meditative state of being before embarking on whatever lies in store.

This morning: In this 9 line poem starting with a question, there are no line breaks. Each line is a complete, unbroken thought, but escapes from feeling like a sermon or prose. Perhaps it is the shorter lines that confirm a sense of optimism: And whom do I call my enemy? The heart is the smaller cousin of the sun. It sees and knows everything. These short lines are not an answer

but direct the reader to the sun and the heart and the longest line comes as a surprise -- reversing the usual idea of "risk" as a positive. We would never say, "watch out! You might find or make a friend!" What a delightful way to mirror to us the labeling of "enemy" that interferes with friendship. In the discussion, people picked up on the indiscriminate nature of the sun which shines on us all, and undertones the Sermon on the mount. "Love your enemies; the sun rises equally on the just and unjust". As one person put it, the poem is wonderful because it contains both the sense of particular and general which applies to all of us and reaches our "poetry soul".

It was one of the proposed "poem in your pocket day" poems.

Here are a few more examples:

There is something about the innocence of 2nd grader who writes:

They say the moon loves love

and will smile if you lend your heart.

I know the galaxy loves me like the moon--

look up at that starry path--

you can feel its love in the calm silence.

Another poem suggested was this delightful Emily Dickinson:

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,

One clover, and a bee.

And revery.

The revery alone will do,

If bees are few.

Before I was a Gazan: This poem also was proposed for "Poem in your pocket" day.

The title subtly suggests the problem of labeling. We can imagine any boy, and can imagine the situation of being proud to arrive at school to show one has understood the homework. Using the metaphor of math, the "subtraction" hits hard, and the grief multiplies. How is it that what should be a normal day in the life of a child turns into a day of extinction of his friends, family, his life as it had been and will never be again. The poem calls us to feel this need to do anything for a solution to end all war everywhere. The poem was written in 2014, following the poet's interaction with literacy programs and children in Gaza.

Iris Song: I put a footnote that the poet Rickey Laurentiis is the author of Death of the First Idea (Alfred A. Knopf, 2025). The link to the poem shows a picture of Rickey, who identifies as transgender.

Listening to Rickey read one feels the importance of the role of a spoken poem which conveys through tone and rhythm a sensitive layering of language one might not receive only reading the words. The arrangement of visual cues by a poet do not always line up with how they are used.

We noted the conventional capitalization of each line which emphasizes for instance, 3rd line "Themselves". Whether this is intended to stress the role of a plural pronoun for a transgender person, I do not know. The repetitions are delicate. You matter. (end of line 4.) Line 5: Who in you is most material, so (line break to line 6)

You matter. One could imagine many different ways of saying, "so you matter".

One person noted gone as a possible contraction of going to pronounced as gonna, but also could be implying past tense,has gone. It sounded as if on lines 7 and 8 the word looking was omitted.

In the spoken commentary Rickey says inspiration came from Kanye West and Rue Mapp, founder and CEO of Outdoor Afro, a national not-for-profit organization she established in 2009 to reconnect Black communities with nature. [1]Rickey mentioned also Toni Morrison who argued that the "very serious function of racism is distraction". [2]

We wondered about the title: is Iris a person? Perhaps the "you" in the first line? Who is the "you" in the poem? The poet? fellow transgender people? fellow black people? Iris could be referring to eye, and black pupil. One person imagined adding a "k" pronounced thus, I risk.

You reading this: There are many ways of interpreting "you" in the title which might call forth different scenarios. I could imagine a hospice situation, or a letter written to someone in deep distress, or two intimate friends. However it is, I am glad that I am the "you" reading the poem with the reminder of the importance of mindful awareness. As one person summed it up, it's a gratitude poem. Another noted how the poem starts with two stanzas of questions and then it would seem gives advice for a turn in the journey, reflecting on this "interval" spent in a day... what someone called a reminder of the "dash between the years" only to return to a confirmation that whatever it is to be remembered about it, is best gift of all -- but expressed as a question.

Gathered in a room discussing poetry, whether at the library or Writers and Books, we are

beneficiaries of a beautiful sense of "now". At Pittsford, Graeme, who with his family, some of whom are in Australia, are in the middle of planning a wedding, received a "message ding". He

texted them back, Here I am at the Pittsford Intercontinental Macrocosmic Poetic Lovefest... but I should be able to make myself available after 2:30 or so. Imagine me, sprinting from the room mid-stanza. We have some deliciously complex issues to discuss. I believe that last bit was about the details of the wedding, but like to imagine our "poetic lovefest" embraces the same sort of discussion!

An aspect: At first, one think the author is LaBohem Brown, but scroll down, and you see that it is Gwendolyn Brooks. Is the "We" at the end of line one a collective noun for two, for a group or for all humankind? The versatility perfect to echo with the equal multi-faceted possibilities in the title. "Ice and Fire" immediately brought to mind the poem by Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice" penned in 1920.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

I believe that LaBohem is an invented character, but it is hard not to think of the Opera, by Pucchini. Other poems by Brooks come to mind as well: https://poets.org/poem/sonnet-ballad

and "Intermission" (By all things planetary I swear...)

One person summarized the poem as "snatched intimacy amongst chaos". It is highly charged and most seemed to capture the sexual intensity. The spelling of African with a K was a way to signal Black Pride.[3]

I look forward to continued conversations about this poem!

Jessica adds:

I notice that there are two unexpected capitalizations in the poem, "We" and "Camaraderie." Why does she choose to capitalize these two words? Is it intentional that the two capitalized words rhyme? At the very least, the capitalizations draw our attention to these two words.

A "package of minutes" is an interesting image. The word "minutes" is an abstract noun and cannot be concretely packaged. Nonetheless, it is an image that helps draw attention to and even make sacred this particular experience at this particular moment in time. That they are merry foreigners is also interesting and suggests a moment that belongs to them but that doesn't entirely belong to them.

"Because the world is at the window"-- The mention of a window summons a well-known Brooks quotation: "If you want a poem, you only have to look out a window. There is material always, walking or running or fighting or screaming or singing." The world is at the window, beckoning us to notice the outside world; it commands our gaze. These sights intrude on our private world and indeed, in this poem there is an interesting tension between public and private, inside and outside. To what extent are these opposite separate and distinct and to what extent do they intrude on each other?

"You rise," signifies an interruption of the lovers' unity: "you are in yourself again." The fifth stanza powerfully voices the lover's plight, in which we sense an intense longing not only for union, but for sustained union, a oneness that is "not-to-end." Yet parting is inevitable and the poem ends with the image of the two individuals going separate ways, having departed their private world and entered the public realm. The poem seems to be such a poignant expression of an intensely intimate love affair, again, referring to a specific experience at a specific moment in time; "an aspect of love" that is very much alive in the midst of a violent social environment.

I learned that the poem was published in Riot in 1969, which Brooks wrote in the aftermath of the violence that ensued after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Chocolates: a delightful poem. One person remarked that Chekhov remarked a conversation about fruit jam might be a convenient distraction from addressing politics. The poet understands the fun of suc a ruse and deftly substitutes chocolate!

Short History: Although written from a prompt, it feels to be an important poem just by itself. If you were asked to think about "size" where would you go? Size of ego, of universe, or length

of history of the human race? Many liked the sense of a sense of omniscience, albeit not mentioned, but ending with our search for something that gives meaning to the greater scheme of life. We enjoyed as well the rhythms and repetitions of an adjective stretched to a comparison with an image... We were brief. Briefer... We were sad. Sadder... We were happy... happier.

The elements of randomness give this poem a "punchy feel". We enjoyed the 5 initial uses of the anaphor We were further repeated 5 times mid line.

Interesting that the final "sentence" starts with We read, which could be present or past tense.

Extra: Rick shared this site

https://michaeljerling.com/pdfs/TheyLiveOninWordandSong-brochure.pdf

and these lyrics

When Words Still Mattered ℗ 2018 Michael Jerling

When words still mattered

When we were young

Petals and pearls

Rolled off our tongues

In the ashes of Empires

The embers of change

We fought our battles

In the caffes

Oil on a canvas

Ink on a page

A bow on the strings

A turn on a stage

Perhaps we were too comfortable

We were to free

In between wars

And calling it peace

It came on us slowly

It came on so fast

Out of the future

And into the past

Take what you can carry

Pay all you can pay

I'm still a prisoner

Though I got away

When words still mattered

When we were young

Petals and pearls

Rolled off our tongues

In the ashes of Empires

The embers of change

We fought our battles

In the caffes

[1] Started as a kitchen table blog in Oakland, California, it has grown into a leading network with leaders in up to 60 cities.

[2] In a 1975 speech, she explained that racism forces Black people to waste time explaining their humanity and reason for being, rather than engaging in their creative or productive work. This distraction hinders focusing on deeper, natural, or creative pursuits.

[3] AI will tell you: African" is the standard English spelling referring to the continent or its people, while "Afrikan" (or "Afrika") is a conscious, political, and cultural spelling used to reclaim indigenous identity, rejecting colonial influences that replaced the 'k' with a 'c'. Using "k" often signifies Pan-Africanism

[1] Rickey Laurentiis is the author of Death of the First Idea (Alfred A. Knopf, 2025)

Monday, May 4, 2026

At the Fish Houses = Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop: The Fish Houses-- References from Seamus Heaney

Me to Jessica:

I know you were interested in what Seamus Heaney had to say in his essay "The Government of the Tongue" about Elizabeth Bishop, that Bart kindly gave me.

I would be happy to share right away as I am curious about your take. I didn't find I had much further insight about the poem. I think the group addressed her "finical" (fastidious about detail) and discreet manner which Heaney expands on saying, "it would not have disturbed the undersong of conversations between strangers breakfasting at a seaside hotel". For sure, her inclination to believe in "the government of the tongue" and her "good manners" in the discipline of observation, are an accurate, and beautifully stated. truth .. but what about the poem????

On the 3rd page, the bit about the seal, the article becomes more interesting to me: a "rhythmic heave"... one seal particularly...

"Looking at the world of the surface, after all is not only against the better judgement of a seal; it is finally also against the better judgement of the poet. It is not that the poet breaks faith with the observed world (of human attachment, grandfathers, Lucky Strikes and Christmas trees) but a different estranging and fearful ement which ultimately fascinates her: the world of mediated meaning, or a knowledge-need which sets human beings apart from seals and herrings and sets the poet in her solitude apart from her grandfather and the old man....

He speaks of the inner cadence which is deeply intimate with the "laden water of full tide" and continues: "The lines inhabited by certain profoundly true tones, which as Robert Frost put it, "were before words were, living in the cave of the mouth": they fortify our inclination to credit promptings of our intuitive being.

The last page contains sweeping remarks about the nature of poetry. I so enjoyed his last sentence, I the I quoted it (loosely) from in the nutshell: "Poetry is more a threshold than a path, one constantly approached and constantly departed from, at which reader and writer undergo in their different ways the expdrience of being at the same time summoned and released.

Well... all that is well and good -- but does it enhance my appreciation of the poem? I confess, I was a bit put off by the high-flown expression.

I added my take:

Jessica's response:

Boston University Art of Poetry Video Repository website: it was helpful to me, in which the commenting professor alluded to the leaps Bishop makes in the poem, from plain spoken to lyrical, ordinary to extraordinary.

This very point struck me after my initial reading of the poem-- how deftly she moves from concrete to philosophical, physical to metaphysical. I am fascinated by the idea of the world of "mediated meaning" that you mentioned from the article, and the notion that the impulse to ascribe meaning sets human beings apart from animals. By virtue of the fact that we are human, we are motivated by quests of meaning and must necessarily make leaps into meaning; is the poet therefore obligated to make similar ones?

The professor also draws attention to the language of ascent that originates in the stanza that starts with "down at the water's edge" (later in that same stanza, this language repeats, "descending"). Ultimately, the movement shifts, and we are brought into a sense of rising as the poet speaks, "above the stones, above the stone and then the world." This movement from low to high as we ascend may reflect the leap I just discussed, the shift from physical to metaphysical, ordinary to extraordinary. I think you capture this idea in the nutshell when you write that the diction and sounds "prepare an ontological dive," as the reader quite literally experiences a dive deep into territory from which one then ascends.

I do love the way this poem immerses a reader into rich sensory detail and yet, the language is not particularly lofty. At the outset, it is rather concrete and straightforward, although it also bears an impressionistic quality. Descriptions are rendered of "what seems" and things are noted "as if": the sea swells "as if considering spilling over." The silver of "apparent" translucence. The water "seems suspended." "If you should dip your hand in...your hand would burn as if the water were a transmutation of fire."

What fascinates me is the idea that perhaps Bishop is both pointing to the sufficiency and simultaneous inadequacy of a means of knowing that is solely based on sensory experience. If we are relying only on our senses as a means of knowing, how thoroughly do we actually know that which surrounds us? This is precisely what makes me think of Descartes and his thought experiment with the ball of wax (from Meditations) in which he concludes that our senses cannot be the sole source of our knowledge about the wax, as its sensible characteristics are unreliable. They change when melted. The wax, or any sensible object, must be perceived through the intellect. In this poem, Bishop seems to be hinting at a similar idea: knowing involves rich sensory experience as well as the intellect, as knowledge is historical, repository by nature.

AI's summary of Jessica's comments:

I confess I got a little lost in the high-flown language too, but I see what you mean about the seal section being more interesting.
I'm curious about your take on the poem's ending vs. your notes on 'flown' vs 'flowed'.

My comments about the Seamus Heaney essay "The Government of the Tongue" about Elizabeth Bishop, that Bart kindly gave me.

I would be happy to share right away as I am curious about your take. I didn't find I had much further insight about the poem from Heaney. I think the group addressed her "finical" (fastidious about detail) and discreet manner which Heaney expands on saying, "it would not have disturbed the undersong of conversations between strangers breakfasting at a seaside hotel". For sure, her inclination to believe in "the government of the tongue" and her "good manners" in the discipline of observation, are an accurate, and beautifully stated. truth .. but what about the poem????