You're right about poor teaching. Last year I did a course on literary criticism, and one of the modules was on poetry. The tutor was brilliant. I mean, he managed to make us see the merit in things we all thought we were familiar with, like I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud' (apparently the poem's true title rather than Daffodils). I'd have done more courses with him, but he keeps saying he's retired.
I find the concept of a prose poem a difficult one to get my head around, despite having a Penguin collection of prose poems. The introduction is interesting though. I love this sentence:
"In an age of mass literacy our daily lives are enmeshed in networks of sentences and paragraphs as extensive as any urban grid. The prose poem drive the reading mind beyond the city limits."
Will shortly click on your link and comment. For now, here's a prose poem by Robert Hass that I love and would love to discuss this will you here in comments. When teaching, I ask: In 231 words, is the prose poem a story?
A Story about the Body
The young composer, working that summer at an artist’s colony, had watched her for a week. She was Japanese, a painter, almost sixty, and he thought he was in love with her. He loved her work, and her work was like the way she moved her body, used her hands, looked at him directly when she made amused and considered answers to his questions. One night, walking back from a concert, they came to her door and she turned to him and said, “I think you would like to have me. I would like that too, but I must tell you that I have had a double mastectomy,” and when he didn’t understand, “I’ve lost both my breasts.” The radiance that he had carried around in his belly and chest cavity—like music—withered very quickly, and he made himself look at her when he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I could.” He walked back to his own cabin through the pines, and in the morning he found a small blue bowl on the porch outside his door. It looked to be full of rose petals, but he found when he picked it up that the rose petals were on top; the rest of the bowl—she must have swept them from the corners of her studio—was full of dead bees.
> Poetry is poetry because rhythm drives the poem, is essential to its meaning—even if that rhythm doesn’t follow a prescribed form.
Rhythm in writing is an interesting topic for me this month because I just found out that you can do a great deal with it even without structure or rhyme - just by playing with the sounds of syllables. I've written a handful of pieces to explore it and will have a few more by the end of October. It's fascinating.
To be honest, I'm not sure whether what I'm creating is poetry or prose, but regardless, it's been eye opening
I so agree, Nathan--and that's exactly why I wrote this post. You are so kind to have taken the time to write this insightful comment. I thank you! I'm also hoping that you'll subscribe if you haven't already. Thoughtful comments are the best! xo Mary
I love this! I long to connect with poetry in a deeper way than reading a shortened version on a social media meme. Coming back to poetry always centers and calms my spirit. Poems can be lullaby, song, or mantra. As someone who works with both music and the brain, I really enjoyed this perspective and the research behind it!
What an insightful and lovely comment. My heart to yours, lover of reading and learning and writing: Perhaps a song or poem is coming to our comments here, if copyright allows you to share freely, xo Mary
A fascinating read, Mary - thank you! I have a favourite poem I come back to again and again, and it always helps me to reconsider and sometimes reframe my own work.
Incidentally, W H Auden, whom you’ve quoted here, was my great granny’s cousin. Small world! :D
I love that poem, written if I recall correctly, after the loss of the Titanic. My father read all of Thomas Hardy's novels when he barely got out of high school and met a mentor in the pool hall. I as a young girl read all his novels too--like love letters between me and my father. Auden praised his poetry!
I remember doing Hardy’s elegaic poems for my English A level exam - to be honest I rather preferred his novels (shhhhh!). I only came across ‘Convergence’ as an adult and it gave me immediate goosepimples.
Lovely to have shared Hardy with your father - very special.
It's an interesting question and it does force me to read in a different way, enhancing my experience. The first two parts take me to his childhood, quietly, like a musical piece ("softly," "tingling," "poised," "cosy") until a peak in emotion in the last part. Perhaps like a musical composition. Language instructs the form. Not sure. But it's what I see, like you say from the way we look at a painting, when I reread this lovely poem.
Beautifully stated. I hope others will add to what you have so wisely said. It's this conversation that we can build on and help each other see how form informs meaning.
Thank you for this marvelous perspective on poetry. I am among those who have thought "poetry makes my brain hurt" ever since my junior high teacher asked us: "And what does the rope signify?" You have blown that apart, with some wonderful help from help from Marianne Moore. Now going to rethink everything...
And yours is truly one of my favorite sites: So well-written, thoughtful, heartfelt--and wise! I encourage all my readers to visit and subscribe to your newsletter. Off to read the link you posted here. xo Mary
Very interesting. I read a book recently called How to read like a writer, and the author shows what a different effect a piece of writing has if it's written out as a poem. Reviewed here: https://terryfreedman.substack.com/p/7-books-for-writers#%C2%A7how-to-read-like-a-writer-lessons-to-elevate-your-reading-and-writing-practice
You're right about poor teaching. Last year I did a course on literary criticism, and one of the modules was on poetry. The tutor was brilliant. I mean, he managed to make us see the merit in things we all thought we were familiar with, like I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud' (apparently the poem's true title rather than Daffodils). I'd have done more courses with him, but he keeps saying he's retired.
I find the concept of a prose poem a difficult one to get my head around, despite having a Penguin collection of prose poems. The introduction is interesting though. I love this sentence:
"In an age of mass literacy our daily lives are enmeshed in networks of sentences and paragraphs as extensive as any urban grid. The prose poem drive the reading mind beyond the city limits."
Will shortly click on your link and comment. For now, here's a prose poem by Robert Hass that I love and would love to discuss this will you here in comments. When teaching, I ask: In 231 words, is the prose poem a story?
A Story about the Body
The young composer, working that summer at an artist’s colony, had watched her for a week. She was Japanese, a painter, almost sixty, and he thought he was in love with her. He loved her work, and her work was like the way she moved her body, used her hands, looked at him directly when she made amused and considered answers to his questions. One night, walking back from a concert, they came to her door and she turned to him and said, “I think you would like to have me. I would like that too, but I must tell you that I have had a double mastectomy,” and when he didn’t understand, “I’ve lost both my breasts.” The radiance that he had carried around in his belly and chest cavity—like music—withered very quickly, and he made himself look at her when he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t think I could.” He walked back to his own cabin through the pines, and in the morning he found a small blue bowl on the porch outside his door. It looked to be full of rose petals, but he found when he picked it up that the rose petals were on top; the rest of the bowl—she must have swept them from the corners of her studio—was full of dead bees.
—by Robert Hass from “Human Wishes”
> Poetry is poetry because rhythm drives the poem, is essential to its meaning—even if that rhythm doesn’t follow a prescribed form.
Rhythm in writing is an interesting topic for me this month because I just found out that you can do a great deal with it even without structure or rhyme - just by playing with the sounds of syllables. I've written a handful of pieces to explore it and will have a few more by the end of October. It's fascinating.
To be honest, I'm not sure whether what I'm creating is poetry or prose, but regardless, it's been eye opening
I so agree, Nathan--and that's exactly why I wrote this post. You are so kind to have taken the time to write this insightful comment. I thank you! I'm also hoping that you'll subscribe if you haven't already. Thoughtful comments are the best! xo Mary
I love this! I long to connect with poetry in a deeper way than reading a shortened version on a social media meme. Coming back to poetry always centers and calms my spirit. Poems can be lullaby, song, or mantra. As someone who works with both music and the brain, I really enjoyed this perspective and the research behind it!
What an insightful and lovely comment. My heart to yours, lover of reading and learning and writing: Perhaps a song or poem is coming to our comments here, if copyright allows you to share freely, xo Mary
A fascinating read, Mary - thank you! I have a favourite poem I come back to again and again, and it always helps me to reconsider and sometimes reframe my own work.
Incidentally, W H Auden, whom you’ve quoted here, was my great granny’s cousin. Small world! :D
Wow, to be related even distantly to the fabulous Auden--lucky you! What is that favorite poem?
The poem I love is ‘The Convergence of the Twain’ by Thomas Hardy. Beautiful, dark inevitability. It’s incredible. :D
I love that poem, written if I recall correctly, after the loss of the Titanic. My father read all of Thomas Hardy's novels when he barely got out of high school and met a mentor in the pool hall. I as a young girl read all his novels too--like love letters between me and my father. Auden praised his poetry!
I remember doing Hardy’s elegaic poems for my English A level exam - to be honest I rather preferred his novels (shhhhh!). I only came across ‘Convergence’ as an adult and it gave me immediate goosepimples.
Lovely to have shared Hardy with your father - very special.
Great post, Mary.
And so true about how students are taught to approach poetry.
So glad you're reading and commenting. Would love your view on my q. at the end of the essay--and hope you'll go to moviewise to read that one too.
It's an interesting question and it does force me to read in a different way, enhancing my experience. The first two parts take me to his childhood, quietly, like a musical piece ("softly," "tingling," "poised," "cosy") until a peak in emotion in the last part. Perhaps like a musical composition. Language instructs the form. Not sure. But it's what I see, like you say from the way we look at a painting, when I reread this lovely poem.
Beautifully stated. I hope others will add to what you have so wisely said. It's this conversation that we can build on and help each other see how form informs meaning.
Thank you for this marvelous perspective on poetry. I am among those who have thought "poetry makes my brain hurt" ever since my junior high teacher asked us: "And what does the rope signify?" You have blown that apart, with some wonderful help from help from Marianne Moore. Now going to rethink everything...
So glad! Love that you're reading and commenting. And isn't the poem by Moore a wonder!
Thank you for mentioning "moviewise: Life Lessons From Movies" Mary! I really appreciate it 🤗
I often like to add bits of poetry in my newsletter, and even wrote an original poem in one:
Movies To Help You Love Life: Ten Life-Affirming Films
https://moviewise.substack.com/p/movies-to-help-you-love-life
Sometimes the message is clearer, more profound, and more beautiful in a poem. It's a great art form and very inspirational!
And yours is truly one of my favorite sites: So well-written, thoughtful, heartfelt--and wise! I encourage all my readers to visit and subscribe to your newsletter. Off to read the link you posted here. xo Mary
That's so gracious and kind of you Mary! Thank you so much. It's very heartening.