I’m on week three! I’ve also added a photo :). I read somewhere that photos are a must, so I tried to add a photo last week. I dumped out a bunch of those magnetic poetry pieces on the table and tried to make a small poem. ‘Silver angels smiled’ and then something else that sounded both cheesy and cool at the same time. I took a picture, cropped it, labeled it, resized it and had it ready to go. Which would have been fantastic had I actually remembered to add the photo to the post before it went out last week.
It’s all good. I changed my mind anyway. I thought the photo I took reflected writing poetry more than reading poetry, so I went with my previous poetry photo. In the spirit of laziness, I’ll use the same photo each week :).
And now, my reading selections for week three:
January 15th – The Sting, by Cheryl Kp
The sting . .
the stream that flows along the path.
The path . .
the road that leads to nowhere-somewhere.
I started the day searching for poetry by Sting (the singer), because I had heard he had some poems published, or had written some, or something. The only thing I found were song lyrics, which are poetry, I guess. Anyway, when I ran across this poem entitled The Sting, I stopped looking for anything else. LOVE the structure and rhythm of this poem.
January 16th – Song of Beren and Luthien, by Tolkien
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Last week I included a poem from Philip Dodd entitled Song for Luthien Tinuviel. Fascinated with Luthien, I went digging for more. I had never heard the tale before. I grew up during an age when the only hobbit movie was this old cartoon we occasionally rented from the local video store. I don’t even remember the name of that video anymore. I do remember it was almost always rented out. When we were lucky enough to find it, we watched it over and over and over again. I must have watched that a hundred times when I was a kid. Fast forward a few years and I find out that apparently, Tolkien was a writer, not a cartoon maker, and he wrote other stuff, too. Like The Silmarillion, which is where this poem is hidden. Yeah, I know. I was devasted when I found out. I felt worse than I did after discovering Santa wasn’t real.
Anyway. Now I know better, thank God. Back to the poem. Loved it.
January 17th –Scene, by Maxine Chernoff
I am carrying your face
in a locket in a box
to a virtual location
guarded by kestrels,
I didn’t know what a kestrel was (it’s a small falcon) and maybe that’s why I like these lines the best. Because I sat there turning them over and over in my head. How can the poet’s speaker carry something to a virtual location guarded by kestrels? I’m so happy when this happens, because this is what I wanted! I want to be confused and challenged. Thank you, Maxine!
January 18th –Fireworks, Harborfest, by Luisa Igloria
The way a gong sounds in a temple
far away, carrying across water
to echo in each hollow reed:
the bones in the bronze bell
of the body breathless,
clapping as one, before falling
back into familiar silence.
This poem engages so many of my senses. In these lines alone I see the images she creates, I hear the sounds, and I feel the movement.
January 19th – A BEGGAR, A THIEF, by Keith Garrett
He wanders the streets, a taste for food, a thirst for drink,
Cold to the bones, waiting for a warm place to sleep.
I like how this poet compares the beggar and the thief. Contrasts and similarities always encourage me to think about things in a new light. Do I pity both? Do I judge both? What are my thoughts about both?
January 20th – Fade to Vinyl, by Jeff Martin
His moniker is Last or
But I see him for what he is:
I want you to know, I picked my ‘favorite lines’ for this poem at least four different times. I kept changing my mind. First I picked the beginning, then the lines in the middle, which are spot on, and then back to the beginning again. in the end, I just wanted to paste the whole poem up here. Go read it!
January 21st – Goblin Market, by Christina Rossetti
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
Goblins get a bad rap. No one reads poetry about goblins anymore, including me. I need to step outside of my comfort zone more often. This one is the longest poem I’ve posted so far, but wow, was I hooked from beginning to end! Definitely reading her again.
All I can say at this point is I’m loving the variety of poems I run across. I can’t wait to see what I find next week :).