Word: poems
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...many parts. A reader must pick out what soothes or jostles his prejudice, which in reading Audience is his whim. I liked best a story about the aforementioned blueberries, suitably titled "The Blueberries," written by Bankson Means; another story, "A Tom Go For Terry," by Robert Wernick; a poem called "Birthday Letter," by Allen Grossman; another poem, "Suicide," by Arthur Freeman; and some drawings of some sad old houses by Janet Doub. The magazine costs six bits and that means that each of these things cost 15 cents but are worth a good deal more...
...print, "beware of seekers of free publicity," and avoid prison idiom, e.g., "isolation area" instead of "the hole." But the Angolite at the Louisiana State Penitentiary has published a cell-block correspondent's story griping about the chow. And the Menard Time recently printed a convict's poem to prison guards which began: "The screw stomps in on big flat feet...
Pother Panchali. Satyajit Ray, in his first picture, has made a film poem of Indian life; the year's most richly and sensitively imagined work of cinematic art (TIME...
...bore. With his grave devotion to his religion went a fanatical belief in wine, which he liked to drink "to the Glory of God and the confusion of my enemies." He was not halfhearted in his piety toward the stuff. Off and on, over 20 years, he polished a poem in praise of wine. He found it a symbol of the good things of life denied by Puritan religions or by "Islam, furtive enemy of the soul." He said: "May I reach the Kitchen in Heaven and drink with St. Christopher"-although he believed St. Christopher to be a "pure...
Despite the simplicity of his syntax, Roethke is often as impenetrable as many another modern and lesser poet. If always seeming to promise more than any one poem entirely achieves, always seeming on the verge of breaking through his obscurities into the clear radiance of revelation, he still achieves more than most moderns can even hint at. His best lines have the directness of that other master of obscure simplicities, William Blake. Of hope: "My gates are all caves." Of love: "The pure admire the pure, and live alone; I love a woman with an empty face." Of the clear...