Jungle
By Robert Kelly

As stated in class, I had to re-read this poem multiple times in order to understand the meaning of it. I am still not quite positive of the exact intention, but I think the poet does that on purpose. That maybe it is meant to be open for various forms of interpretation.
When I first read it, the poem reminded me of greed. Of being in constant state of wanting and receiving in order to just have more. This is probably because of the last line “The core of it is to be more.” However, now I read it and thoughts of growth and dependency come to mind. This image is conflicted with a trapt sensation that I get from reading the poem as well. For instance, because of lines like “I thought these feelings into place and now feelings have no place to thing their own” and “skeleton of earlier design, that leaves no room for breath or search or care” brings to mind a images of restraint. So to me the message seems very conflicted. On one hand it’s about movement and growth, but the tone of the poem seems also negative and captured in an endless cycle of expansion and outgrowth.


The Cuban Doctor
By Wallace Stevens

At first, I was really confused by this poem. It seemed rather illogical to me and random. I think it was because I was thinking of everything to literally, for instance once we discussed that the references to Egypt and an Indian hinted at the differing cultures the poem started to take shape. It seems as though the artist has tried to escape from some sort of cyclical chaos represented by India, and has hidden away where there is order and systemization. Only to find that he cannot escape his mayhem.

Sheena

Four strings
Each varying in size
Frets
About an inch wide

A black smooth body
Enticing curves
A voice deep and mellow
That it's barely heard

I named him Sheena
Then figured out it was a guy
When my hands get lonely
His stoic stance
Relaxes me
Reminds me
To focus
Stretch
Then play

Ruben Dario
Song of Autumn in the Springtime

Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…

My heart's celestial histories,
So countless were, could not be told.-
She was a tender child, in this
World of affliction manifold.

She seemed a dawn of pure delight;
She smiled as the flowers after rain;
Her tresses were like to the night
Fashioned of darknesses and pain.

I was timid and childlike shy.
I could not but have been this way:
She, to my love chaste as the sky,
Was Herodias and Salomé…

Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…

The other was more sensitive,
More quieting and loving-kind,
With greater will to love and live
Than I ever had hoped to find.

For with her grace of tenderness
A violence of love she had:
In a peplos of loveliness
Was hid a Maenad passion mad…

Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Wilted in me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…

Another fancied my lips were
A casket wrought to hold her love;
And wildly with the teeth of her
To gnaw my very heart she strove.

She willed all passionate excess;
She was a flame of love for me;
She made each ardorous caress
Synthesis of eternity.

She deemed our flesh a deathless thing,
And on desire an Eden reared,
Forgetting that the flowers of Spring
And of the flesh so soon are seared…

Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…

And the others! In many climes,
In so many lands, ever were
Merely the pretext for my rhymes,
Or heart-born fantasies of her.

I sought for the princess in vain,
She that awaited sorrowing.
But life is hard. Bitter with pain.
There is no princess now to sing!

And yet despite the season drear,
My thirst of love no slaking knows;
Gray-haired am I, yet still draw near
The roses of the garden-close….

Youth, treasure only gods may keep,
Fleeting from me forever now!
I cannot, when I wish to, weep,
And often cry I know not how…

Ah, but the golden Dawn is mine!

Responses to...

What do women want?

I thought this poem had a strong feminine voice. Even though it seemed shallow of her at first to me, to put so much focus on a dress, I think the dress later stood for her individuality and independence.
In class we discussed how she becomes the dress in the end of the poem, I agree with this. I think in some way, the idea of owning this dress and having a certain appearance gives the woman confidence, in a sort Cinderella way. I found it relatable. That being said I do not think the picture fits with the mood of the poem. Like I said I enjoyed the empowering feminine voice, and in the painting the female figure seems more like she’s whimpering.

The Street

I really enjoyed this poem, it had great imagination and storytelling. I found myself getting wrapped up in each stranger’s story and wanting to hear more. It had thoughtful insight, and adequately demonstrated how people are linked through a chain of connectivity but also disconnection.
I also, enjoyed the relationship between the poem and painting, I thought they were very compatible. They both elevate one another, but also stand as a complete piece of art on their own. Sometimes I found I would read a verse and then look at the painting and disagree, for instance, when the poem reads “The oriental couple wants always to dance like this: swirling across a crowded street” I instead interpreted the painting as them fighting. To me the women looked upset and the man seemed like he was trying to stop her. In addition the verse about the mistaken actor/baby was highly amusing.

Blurred vision
And swollen pride
Looking onward
Toward his cerulean bride

Exposed body
And a naked heart
Her rolling curves
Made rollercoasters of his thoughts

Nevermore will they sing
On yesterday's broken strings
Their tune, now bold
Harmonized
And in key