Word: poem
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...humble recompense to God. To create music is to recreate oneself and perhaps, to bring some beauty of order into the world. The harmony of the individual sou? will be the harmony of the earth, and art is the only way. "Myself I must remake, says Yeats's poem, and so must...
During the last four modules of the day, I was sent to the school auditorium to read and talk poetry to a group of a hundred students. As soon as I perched myself on the stool in front of them with my notebook of poems, they responded by taking out paper and pencils. "Put your paper and pencils away." I said in mock anger. "You can't learn anything when you're taking notes." They turned tentatively to their teachers to see if that was OK. I read two poems that concerned a white suburb, similar to theirs, hoping that...
...told them how Robert Frost had written Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening in a few minutes, yet how many hours and pages were spent torturing it in classrooms. I read a poem about baseball. And one about the Top 40. "What do you do," someone asked, "when you don't write poetry?" I paused. "I play football, talk on the telephone, kiss girls," I said. A light snicker. "Poetry isn't a forty hour week...
...there's something you don't like about this poem." I said after reading a pretty bad one, "tell me, I'll change it around." No one protested. "Look," I argued, "a poem isn't a sacred thing. If you don't like something in a poem, even if it's by William Shakespeare, you should say it's stupid. Don't be afraid to hurt the poem. It's not something you simply hold up to the light and investigate. It's an experience you share with the poet." There was a long silence. Girls in wet jackets...
...Shadow of Sound is also a depot -or perhaps a birdcage-for a series of picture poems in which words are arranged in the shapes of their subjects. The poet, for instance, ends a sun-washed reverie ("I love to enter the aureole of light/where there are no boundaries") with the image: "The seagull is the bikini of God." Then he recasts these words to form a picture poem...