The Man with the Hoe by Edwin Markham is a powerful poem
commenting on the oppression of man inspired by Jean Francois Millet’s famous painting.
The artwork and the poem compliment each other nicely. The poem has to be analyzed
from the time period it was written from, the French Revolution. The word
choice in this poem is capturing, “the emptiness of ages in his face,” and “the
reddening of the rose,” are my two favorite lines. The poet enters a different
dimension in the second verse, which brings an ethereal element to the poem and
painting. This poem is a nice piece of history. Do some of the questions in the
poem pertain to today’s society?
Monday, October 22, 2012
The Man with the Blue Guitar
The Man with the Blue Guitar written by Wallace Stevens
inspired by Pablo Picasso “The Old Guitarist painting” is a collection of
poems. I tried to read these cantos as one consecutive poem. While reading them
out loud, I felt like I was reading a Dr. Seuss book, delighted with the
rhythmic value. I would rather have a book rather than a continuous flow of
cantos. So then I could appreciate each poem on it’s own. A stanza that sticks
out to me is the beginning of VII. The poet describes the sun, he states the
sun shares our works, and then contrasts it to the moon that it shares nothing,
it is a sea. He then continues to say the sun is a sea it shares nothing. When
I think of sea, I think of vast liveliness, containing everything, not nothing.
Each canto is just as beautiful as the next.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Vietnamese Noodles
Steam comes off the surface in waves
rare steak instantly cooks
green onions dancing in circles
ripping apart basil leaves
and tossing a few bean sprouts
preparing for the comatose state
rare steak instantly cooks
green onions dancing in circles
ripping apart basil leaves
and tossing a few bean sprouts
preparing for the comatose state
Monday, October 8, 2012
Ghost in the Land of Skeletons
The structure of Ghost in the Land of Skeletons throws me
off, but what is being said does intrigue me. Phrases such as “flesh’s pretty
paint” and “a spectral game of hide and seek” make me smile through the image
it illustrates. I imagine the warm and cool tones within skin and the sense of
life it suggests. The speaker is fascinated by death yet scared. He enjoys
observing paranormal quirks; the thought of becoming a ghost puts him at ease,
eliminating the fear of dying. The ending hints he failed to acknowledge and
accept that he is already dead. The man that approached the speaker and asked,
“Do you ever feel like you’re a ghost?” mocks and laughs at the speaker’s
ignorance. The accompany artwork doesn't do much for the poem to me.
The Parable of the Blind
The Parable of the Blind by William Carlos Williams is a
poem observing Pieter Brueghel painting, The Parable of the Blind. Earlier in
the semester we analyzed another one of his poems, The Hunter in the Snow. I’m
not a big fan of his poems; yes there is nice structure and word choice but
what the poem does for me I’m not interested in. If I never saw the painting or
wasn’t able to see it, I think this poem would be wonderful since it would
provide with a vivid image. I wish the poem had more insight and made something
come alive in the painting rather than describing in a straightforward manner.
The painting itself is interesting subject matter, a question of can the blind
lead the blind.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Observation Poem
Ugly dolls of all sizes greet me as I walk through the front door,
Their many different colors and mischievous expression excite me.
Their many different colors and mischievous expression excite me.
I say my usual hello to the storekeeper and ask how do you do.
Once this and that has gone and through, I continue with excitement to the wonderland that awaits me.
Once this and that has gone and through, I continue with excitement to the wonderland that awaits me.
The chaos in the abyss suckers me in, cute and friendly yet grotesque.
From antique wooden knick knacks to cashmere and bliss.
From antique wooden knick knacks to cashmere and bliss.
I wind through the manmade maze,
A safe haven for the inner child,
that never wants me to leave.
A safe haven for the inner child,
that never wants me to leave.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
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