Poetics and Poetry Discussion
(6/25/2013 3:50:00 PM)
It also ends on a rather maudlin, 'Chicken Soup for the Soul' note. No poem is without flaws, though some flaws are worst than others. -LP
(6/24/2013 9:39:00 PM)
Very nice- -manages to make a potentially trite " nature" poem into a thoughtful and intense experience. Good art will do that.
(6/24/2013 8:50:00 PM)
Reminds me of a poem I wrote when I lived in Grantsville, and after watching a farmer make hay across the road from me. The country will impel you to write nature poems, whether you care to or not. -LP
Hay On Sunday
Duty has borne tractors on stretched yellow gold,
has known the men, in their daily struggles,
on grasses, and historical equipment.
They moved, and the gold became earthly tones;
they laughed and the light did them in, brought brome
on resolute ground. Evening scoops up
its contents, its demographic of squat
bodies, of red sun in the retinas of reserve.
They live, and the rhythm goes unbroken:
text is finished though in a slow, dried way.
Open the book to chapter...'this is how we
die', hard, against pliant fields and hot ruin,
nearly tasting straw and its future of energy,
profit, and fresh smelling, rain soaked myths,
thrown through the windrows of each season.
No more dulcet than the urban eye, I see
the fist of the Sabbath: I see the workforce pushed
To some cocksure testament battling hillsides.
(6/24/2013 7:09:00 PM)
I like that alot. -LP