The Freedom of Poetry

“There are poems by men and women, living and dead, familiar to millions and unknown to everybody. The only things that all the poems have in common is that they are all strange in some way, because all great literature is strange, they way all Good slides are slippery.”

Lemony Snicket

   While perusing the works of Eileen Myles (a contemporary poet), I found that her poem “Uppity” is published in Lemony Snicket’s All Slides Are Slippery. Snicket’s book is a compilation of various poems he found and enjoyed. Snicket writes, “Poetry is like a curvy slide in a playground—an odd object, available to the public—and, as I keep explaining to my local police force, everyone should be able to use it, not just those of a certain age.” After reading Snicket’s blurb about his book, I began to think of Gertrude Stein. Snicket says, “The only things that all the poems have in common is that they are all strange in some way, because all great literature is strange, the way all good slides are slippery.” Now, this may be a stretch to connect this quote with Gertrude Stein, but I think it is safe to say that Stein’s work entails all things strange, yet is a wonderful piece of literature. I like Snicket’s take on poetry, because he embodied my exact feelings when I read Gertrude Stein.

This is my first go around with Gertrude Stein. I want to pretend that I have all of these profound thoughts and conclusions about her poem “Patriarchal Poetry,” but if we are being honest, reading Gertrude Stein was just as much as a learning experience for me as it probably was for you. Stein made me feel confused, anxious, frustrated, dumbfounded, the list could go on and on. I had no idea what to think of her when I read the first page, but I grew to appreciate her writing when I reached the end of “Patriarchal Poetry.” It is obvious throughout Stein’s poem that she did not just slop words down on a page, but Stein had a purpose when writing “Patriarchal Poetry.” Yes, her writing is extremely obscure and unlike anything I have ever read before, but I feel like we get a small glance of Stein’s character when we read “Patriarchal Poetry.” What is unique about Stein is that she uses the simplest and most common words to write her poem, but the way she puts those words together have almost an overbearing, and drowning effect on the reader. Throughout the entire poem I felt like the words on the page were slipping through my fingers like sand. I could not grasp or formulate any ideas or concepts from her poem, all I could see were chaotic words on a page. The more I read Gertrude Stein and became more familiar with her style and the rhythm of her poem, the more I could appreciate what she was doing. I appreciate the fact that she took such a defiant stand with her poetry, and that she wrote in such a way nobody had ever done before in her time. One of the greatest and most frustrating elements of Stein’s poem was the repetition. For lines on end, Stein would repeat a jumble of words together that formed a formless “sentence,” yet this form of poetry is what makes Stein, Stein, and for me that is respectable.

“For before let it before to be before spell to be before to be before to have to be to be for before to be tell to be to having held to be to be for before to call to be for to be before to till until to be till before…”

Line after Line, Stein produces consistent repetition. However, Stein does not just use the same words over and over for 15 pages of her poem, she has different sections of her poem that repeat different sets of words. Also, after every section of repeated “stanzas” or sections, there is a statement about Patriarchal Poetry. Stein writes,

“Fairly letting it see that the change is as to be did Nelly and Lily love to be did Nelly and Lily went to see and to see which is if could it be that so little is known was known if so little was known shone stone come bestow bestown so little as was known could which that for them recognizably.

Wishing for Patriarchal Poetry.

Once threes letting two sees letting two three threes letting it be after these two these threes…”

Stein wants to emphasize this Patriarchal Poetry, and although I still do not have a firm grasp on what Patriarchal Poetry is, it is a major theme in Stein's writing. Stein writes her poetry defiantly, independently, and with her own style and character. She has produced a respectable piece of art, which is unlike any type of poetry written during her time.

Eileen Myles is an interesting character as well. She of course, is a contemporary writer, but I thought it would be interesting to compare/contrast her with Gertrude Stein. Unlike Stein’s “Patriarchal Poetry,” Myles’ poem “Uppity” is 5 lines long, there is no consistent repetition, or rhythm.

Roads around mountains

cause we can’t drive

through

That’s Poetry

to Me.


          But even though Myles poem is written simply in form, the simplicity of her poem does not take away from the greatness of her writing or make her poem any less significant because it is short. Just as Stein writes in a way that expresses her own style and character, I believe Myles is doing the very same. She writes a simple analogy about what poetry means to her, and I enjoyed Myles short, simple poem. There are vast differences between Myles' "Uppity" and Stein's "Patriarchal Poetry," yet both poems carry traces of the author through them and that is what makes them enjoyable. Stein's poem may be chaotic and confusing, but she wrote poetry the way she wanted to. Myles poem may be short and simple, but again, that is how she desired to write this poem. Both of these poets helped me to see that poetry can be whatever the author desires it to be, and that different types poetry are specific and personal to each person.

A Beginner I Am

            I used to hide from poetry. Poetry always seemed too complex and difficult to understand—I felt I could never find the “meanings” of poems, so I just left poetry to its confusing nature. But over the past few weeks, the more I read poetry, the more I grow to enjoy and find pleasure in it. My favorite aspect of poetry is when you read poems you feel things. Sometimes, certain poems bring out emotions you forgot you had felt before, or they help you to ascribe new meanings to the emotions that are most common to you. Poetry has many complexities about it besides the fact that it evokes emotion, but with my beginner’s eye, this is my favorite thing about poetry.

           

             “The Haunted Oak” by Paul Laurence Dunbar, is a beautifully written, yet tragic poem. When reading Dunbar’s “The Haunted Oak,” one may feel the same despair and pain felt by the tree that physically witnesses the hangings of African Americans on its very branches. The reader may also feel sorrow and sympathy for the people who are hanged, and anger towards the men who are responsible for the hanging. There is darkness and deep-seated sorrow felt and seen in this poem. Dunbar writes with the theme of slavery in “The Haunted Oak.” The title alone evokes an eerie, unsettled feeling for the reader, and as the poem progresses, the reader is saddened by the maliciousness and deceit of the white men in this poem. I am not quite certain if this poem could be classified as prose poetry, but Dunbar’s “The Haunted Oak, “ is story-like and is easy to follow like a story.

In Emily Pettit’s “After Calming Down You Have an Old Feeling,” there is no story to follow or rhyme scheme within the poem. This poem is free verse, and is not even broken up into stanzas like Dunbar’s. Pettit makes a firm declaration in the second line of her poem: “We are not calm.” (Here, I wonder… is she referring to the human race as a whole, a particular group of people, or does she mean everything in the entire universe is not calm??). There is a sense of restlessness in Pettit’s poem, and a push to take the time to slow down and recognize things. When we (I think she may mean the human race in general) are less distracted and pull out of our own individual worlds, we begin to notice the things around us. There is also a sense of discovery in Pettit’s poem that is very childlike in description, but is not unusual or abnormal for an adult. Honestly, even with my speculations about Pettit’s poem, it is still a mystery to me. I am not quite sure what to make of it, and even after reading the poem multiple times, I am still left with a feeling of confusion and uncertainty. Although I do not have a brilliant explanation for Pettit’s poem, I found her poem pleasurable and very nostalgic. Maybe it was her talk about an “old feeling,” or the title itself that produces a nostalgic feeling inside of me.

Between these two poems, we are able to get a clear picture of something old and something new. Dunbar’s poem, even within the bounds of the topic itself, holds elements of the past. And while Pettit’s poem does not explicitly revolve around a specific time period, it has been written in a different time frame. It is very interesting to see the different types of poetry written and how poetry has developed over time. Even though they are both categorized under the umbrella of poetry, they are vastly different, in style, theme, rhyme scheme, descriptive elements, language, time frame, etc. the list could go on and on, but both poems are works of created art that produce more inside of us than we may realize at first glance. Poems make us feel things, and those things cannot be ignored!! 

More Than Just Words

When I hear the name Robert Frost, I cannot help to think of my 8^th grade English teacher, energetically reciting Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” She would end each sentence with a high-pitched inflection in her voice, which made the poem almost feel like a children’s story. But reading more of Robert Frost’s poems on my own, I am glad to see that he has so much more than just “The Road Not Taken,” even though it is one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost. I enjoy Robert Frost primarily for his robust imagery he uses within his poems. Robert Frost is known for distinct diction style, which for the average reader can be difficult to understand or to merely read his poems. Each time I read one of Robert Frost’s poems, I felt as if I was diving into a new, undiscovered world. Frost pulls the reader in with his descriptive elements of nature, and can almost make you feel as if you are actually there. For example, in Robert Frost’s “The Wood Pile,” from the very beginning of the poem, I felt as if I was going on the same journey Frost was describing and could feel the “hard snow” hold my feet into the ground.

            Robert Frost uses a great deal of imagery in most of his poems, but for some reason, “The Wood Pile” stood out to me the most. The “frozen swamp one gray day,” the view of the “tall slim trees,” the playful competition with the bird he saw, and my favorite, the description of the actual woodpile. Frost writes,

The wood was gray and the bark warping off it

And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis

Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.

What held it though on one side was a tree

Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,

These latter about to fall. I thought that only

Someone who lived in turning fresh tasks

Could so forget his handiwork on which

He spent himself, the labor of his ax,

And leave it there far from a useful fireplace

To warm the frozen swamp as best it could

With the slow smokeless burning of decay.

This woodpile is obviously just a dead, rotting pile of wood that someone left behind, but in some strange way, Frost makes this dead woodpile paradoxically come to life. His descriptions of the journey to the woodpile, and even the imagery of the woodpile itself, drew me into this snowy, Narnia-esque world that Frost created. I felt the serenity of nature and could almost hear the silence of the dark, gray afternoon. In the middle of the poem, the sojourner has a playful/competitive interaction with a little bird he finds. I enjoyed how Frost personifies the bird, and if he had not explicitly stated that he saw a bird, it could have almost been like he was describing another person in the sojourner’s midst. The bird was personified with human characteristics, and in a way had a mind of its own. Frost’s “The Wood Pile,” was amazing to read, and while there are many aspects of his poem I more than likely missed or skipped over, Frost’s descriptive language and imagery made this poem real for me.

            In the same way, Mary Oliver is known for her nature themed poetry. She was born in 1935 in Maple Heights, Ohio, but continues her writing career today. For most of her life, Oliver lived in Provincetown, Massachusetts, which is similar to Frost’s residency as well. Mary Oliver reminded me a great deal of Robert Frost, that I almost felt as if they could have been related in someway. Oliver’s sweet, peaceful depiction of nature in her poetry is enjoyable and the images throughout her poetry seem to leap off the page.

Mary Oliver’s “White Eyes,” greatly reminded me of Robert Frost. Although both poems are starkly different in form, rhyme scheme/meter, even in the way they evoke very different emotions, both poems do reveal very clear imagery about them. For instance, in Mary Oliver’s poem, the reader can visualize the setting of nature and can hear the sound of the bird singing in the “tops of the trees.” Again, beginning in line 21 Oliver uses distinct descriptive words to describe the bird, which make the bird come alive to the reader.

I don't know the name of this bird,

    I only imagine his glittering beak

         tucked in a white wing

             while the clouds—

which he has summoned

    from the north—

         which he has taught

             to be mild, and silent—

thicken, and begin to fall

    into the world below

         like stars, or the feathers

               of some unimaginable bird

that loves us,

    that is asleep now, and silent—

         that has turned itself

             into snow.

 As Oliver continues to describe the appearance of the bird, the bird itself has a personality of its own. Similarly to Frost she personifies the singing bird, gives the bird human characteristics. Oliver’s poem is shorter and more simply structured than Frost’s, but overall both poems portray beautiful imagery of nature. The descriptions in each poem make the poems more than just words on a page, but when read carefully and with close attention, the reader will begin to draw close into the poem, and feel apart of the world these writers create.