Monday, April 16, 2012

Final Responses

American Gothic
John Stone
Thought the poem was cute, I don’t think it had very deep insight except to play off of the infamous American Gothic painting. However it did have a nice rhythm to it I thought it painted a detailed, imaginative scene of what was happening outside the picture frame. The lines “the borders of the Gothic window, anticipate the ribs, of the house” jumped out at me. The descriptions give life to the objects he is describing, and even though they are out of the picture frame, I feel as if I can clearly picture them next to the farmer couple.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Wallace Stevens
I remember discussing this series of poems in class, I found them to be interesting but am still not quite sure of the exact meaning of the Blackbird to the writer. Certainly birds that are black conjure up dark, mysterious impressions, however I am really curious to know what the Blackbird is intended to symbolize or is it meant to be an enigmatic figure. The subject reminds me of Poe and his Raven. I found the stanzas “A man and a woman and a blackbird. Are one.” to be thought provoking. And wonder why the blackbird is apart of this trinity.

Winter Landscape
John Berryman

Thought the mood and motif of this poem fit the Peter Brueghel’s painting perfectly. The painting is a depiction of a static moment in time of these travelers, it seems very cold but on the other side of the hill there lies salvation for the hunters. The poem reflects on this, that even though there seems to be a warm welcoming for the weary travelers, they are forever meant to be a top the hill looking down. This to me mimics the fatigued sense I get from looking at the painting.

The Hunter in the Snow
William Carlos Williams
I was not as captured by this poem based on The Hunter in the Snow, as I was in the previous poem by John Berryman. Thought it had strong images but lacked a deeper meaning. This is important to me as there is already an image to look at, so why bother simply describing the image, say something more insightful, thought-provoking about it as well. I did enjoy the stanzas “their pack the inn-sign
hanging from a, broken hinge is a stag a crucifix” but once again I felt it’s only intention was to highlight the already present images.

Musee des Beaux Arts
W. H. Auden

I think this poem, like the John Berryman poem, reflects the painting very well. It talks about how Icarus’s fall in insignificant, which I feel fits the poem appropriately as I can’t even see Icarus in the painting. It at first, seems to be just landscape scene, however it isn’t until I read the title that I actually began looking for Icarus out in the water. I think the poem points to this quite beautifully, suggesting that it does not matter, these things happen, almost completing the painting in a way.

The Bronze David of Donatello
Randall Jarrell
This read like an elegant description of the sculpture. I enjoyed the lines “Lightly, as if accustomed, Loosely, as if indifferent, The boy holds in grace, The stone moulded; somehow, by the fingers, The sword alien, somehow, to the hand. “ It described the emotional quality of the gesture perfectly.

Archaic Torso of Apollo
Rainer Maria Rilke
When reading this poem aloud, I thought it had nice rhythm to it. It was easy to follow and decide which words to put emphasis on. It would make for a good imitation poem in that respect.
I liked the line that related the hips and torso to a smile, and felt the poem had good imagination. I am curious of the last line “You must change your life.” Suddenly the poem turns on the reader and addresses them, instead of continuing on with its description of Apollo.



A Red-Figured Cup of the Onesimos Painter
Robert Kelly
This poem stands out a lot to me, obviously for its strong sexual content and erotic references. Still I like it. I like the story it adds to the image on the cup. It plays off of the gestures of the figures and uses them to create a narrative.
It definitely has a masculine voice while reading it, and at first it almost seems like it is making fun of the image, with the dildo reference, then towards the end it seems more thoughtful.
It’s funny to me how the poem seems to poke at the man on the cup’s physique. He does not seem that old or skinny to me, he seems equal to the women climbing on top of him. Yet the poem insists of juxtaposing them.

The Tall Figures of Giacometti
May Swenson
Thought this poem had good imagination. I especially like the line “We bubble as do the dead but more slowly.” I thought it was interesting that the figures were related to the dead because they are faceless, sexless and seem to lack any real identity. They indeed remind me of ghosts wandering around.
The crude language of the poem seemed to mimic the unpolished, rough style of the statue.

The Emperor of Ice Cream - Wallace Stevens
This poem seemed random to me. It did not make a whole lot of sense.
Curious to know when it was written, as it does not seem that old. I don’t think there is any insightful meaning to the poem, it seems more funny and playful. I did notice that the poem used some rhyming. It seemed successful, and did not take away from the poem at all.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Dance with me Darling

Hidden down in my belly
Where no one can possibly see
It's behind the peanut butter sandwhich
I ate last week
But it burns so bright, it's surprising no one notices it
shooting up through my ears, nose, mouth and eyes
My tongue like molasses, thoughts stick like glue
Calm down, calm down
And I push it back down
But it travels through veins
Down into my feet
And suddenly I'm dancing
Falling and tripping excitedly
Completely missing the beat

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

BUT I KNOW I WILL BE

Every step I take
To run away from fate

Reels the line in closer
Draws the imminent

Mackerel in
Fighting all the way

I know she thinks the same
About her mother

She fears the same
Hook and line

So we already have
That in common

I don't want to be
Anything like my mother






SOMEWHERE I’M SHAKING MY HEAD

My expression glazes over
lost within my own trance
I shake my head

I'm present. I'm water
Reflecting back upon myself
with daydreams of tomorrow

I feel myself gushing
down consciousness.
I swim this way

and the current fights back.
I float that way
the water takes me with it.

Depending on the tide
I’m flooded by these
inebriating thoughts.
I travel down the waterway
expecting rapids or river snakes

at any moment, contrived

by my own fears. Poised to
pop all aspirations like chewing
gum bubbles.

I can see docks up ahead
exits to disembark at, but the sun
above me begs me to stay.

Blue eyes, a red bird's
wings cut across my stare.
Some hope

blooms with the lily pads.
The water's lucid daydreams
float me down further. Past

entangling seaweed, I've lost
my anchor somewhere in this river,
my left shoe with it.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

MOre Responses!

The Man With the Blue Guitar
By Wallace Stevens

I found myself becoming bored with this poem. At times the language and images would spark my interest, but others times the words would just ramble on I felt. I was not able to find the meaning of the poem. It had a melancholic tone to it I felt, which reflected the mood of Picasso’s painting. Its funny such a simple painting, accompanied by a lengthy poem.



The Man with the Hoe
By Edwin Markham

This poem relates the fatigued gesture of the laborer to I think, the underclass workers. It reads like a battle cry for a revolution of the overworked and underpaid. I enjoyed the image of kings and kingdoms that shape the form of the tired worker, creating a relationship between the shapes in the painting to the images of the language.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Responses

Allen Ginsberg
Cezanne’s Ports

This poem helped me to appreciate the painting a little bit more, then if I was just looking at the painting by itself. The references to heaven beyond the mountains and life within the town made the landscape scene that much more whimsical and magical. I picture Cezanne thinking this way while he was painting the scene.

The Parable of the Blind
William Carlos Williams

I am having trouble understanding this poem. As of right now, it simply reads as a description to me of the painting. Maybe if I knew what the parable was that the painting is trying to portray, I could better understand. I also wonder about the last line and how the one is “triumphant to disaster”. To me it looks like they are all heading for imminent disaster.

Ghost in the Land of Skeletons
Christopher Kennedy

I like to picture someone reading this poem aloud, it flowed so nicely in my head while reading it. Maybe it is the structure of the poem and that it looks and reads more like a paragraph then a poem with stanzas.
I enjoy the message of this poem and the way it presents it, with a sense of dark humor. It seems like a more modern poem to me, and I enjoy all the visuals that he conjures for the audience.

Matisse: The Red Studio
W.D. Snodgrass

I loved this poem. I enjoyed the image of the room swallowing up it’s owner and that is why the walls are such a vibrant red. The descriptions of the room give it so much life and energy to it, then the last line compliments that perfectly by saying “But there is no one here.” I thought that was a perfect ending. The poem and the painting compliment each other beautifully they both are full of passion and life.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Turner Poem

Interpretation of Some Days by Billy Collins

Somedays I pull the wagon with all the people,
I wait patiently as they load,
if they bring me carrots,
I stand still and let their children pet me.
All afternoon I do this,
families with babies,
a well kept business man,
coat ironed, perfectly groomed.
But other days, I am pulled
by the leather leash in my mouth,
to stand stagnant,
amongst a row of other nameless pack mules.

It’s secure
but how would you like it
if you never knew from one day to the next
if you were going to spend it,
prancing around like a show pony,
your mane glowing under the street lamps,
or standing amidst unfamiliar horseshit,
staring forward because of your head blinders,
straight at a horse’s ass

Cooper

I rode my orange bike
Past my favorite orange flowers
When they are in bloom
It is pure joy
Their color burns with the sun
As there leaves giggle on their stems

They bloomed over winter
For 14 days
And grew around my wheels
The sun kept them warm as long as it could
But the nights were vengeful and relentless

I knew they were fading
When he coughed up white
I screamed, "Hang in there"
But then they just sagged and blew with the breeze
That will eventually take them away

It is hard to watch them slowly wither
Knowing they weren't made to last
Knowing they bloomed too early
Inside winter's false mirage of summer
I try and laugh with them in the meantime
Soaking in our rare moments
Filling every last breathe with happiness
Until the bike ride is over
And we both go home