Reading poetry is NOT my favorite pastime. I think it is because the reader has to
analyze, probe, ponder, and investigate the meaning of each poem written. It feels at times like a surgery of
literature… ripping a part each stanza and dissecting word by word in search of
the meaning. I just want the author to
say what he or she means to say plainly.
No extra brain power needed in reading it. I am a deep thinker, but not when it comes to
poetry. It takes too much work for
me.
In reading the poetry for this section, I found a new
appreciation for poetry. One author I
read really jumped out to me because he was an artist of sorts with his
words. As I read, it was almost like the
scene unfolded before me on a white canvas.
When I finished the last sentence, the picture was complete. The poetic artist I am speaking of is William
Carlos Williams.
One of my assignments during this session was to compare two
of this author’s poems. In reading the
short poems chosen, I couldn’t imagine coming up with 200 + words to explain my
understanding of what I read. But, as I
read them over and over again a picture began to form in my mind. I imagined myself looking at a painting on
the wall taking in the whole scene. It
was telling a story. I could see it! Imagine that… me getting poetry. Unbelievable!
This is what I read….
The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
*This one I imagined a
picture of an old farm house with barn, shed, chicken coop, etc… Country living
at its best! I also imagined an elderly man dressed in
overalls working hard to keep his farm afloat.
My husband grew up on a farm and had “farm chores” he had to do every
day. It sounded fun and exciting to this
city gal, but probably not if you had to live it out on a daily basis.
Here is the other poem I read…
This Is Just to Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.
*This one I think would be an
awesome commercial. A man comes in the
house after a long day of work. No one
is home yet. His wife and kids are
gone. He is famished. He looks in the fridge hoping for something
to tide him over until dinner. He sees
the plums sitting there all pretty seemingly set aside for a purpose, but he
cannot control his stomach. Temptation
wins and he probably thinks… “forgiveness is better than permission in this
instance.”
Have you ever done that before? Acted on the understanding that “forgiveness
is better than permission” in any instance?
What happened? Sometimes it ends
well other times there are consequences to be paid. I imagine in this poem that the man’s wife
smiled, kissed her husband on the cheek, and offered a forgiving sigh.
I guess I shouldn’t write poetry off entirely…. at least not
yet. Just like reading anything, I need
to find author’s I click with and settle into a poetry reading groove. Happy reading!
Living to leave a legacy,
Julie
