Eating Poetry by Mark Strand

This has to be the craziest poem I have read in a while, but I am completely drawn to it!I knew it wasn't literal from the beginning but I could not for the life of me deduce a meaning for the metaphor. I read several interpretations online but none really fit for me. So I came up with this: this poem is about a man who has discovered poetry. He is "crazy" about them, hence the image of a man eating poetry with ink running down his face. Each stanza seems to have a tone shift. The second one I think represents us as the reader. The librarian, or us, judge or gawk at this man in such a crazy state over a few simple words. It's something we are not accustomed to. The readers are not supposed to have a strong opinion on poetry. The third stanza is where it gets really weird. I think Strand uses the dog as a symbol of critics of poetry; this could also be us as readers, but more likely it is those with premeditated opinions. The dogs continue to the third stanza violently attacking the man who just discovered poetry and the library is the observer, still not completely taking a side. She is frightened, unsure which side to take until the man turns into a dog as well?? I don't think the symbol of the dog continues as a critic. He starts by licking the librarians hand, and she is frightened by him. He has transformed and is trying to share his new found passion with her. In the last stanza he says, "I am a new man." He snarls, and then "romp(s) with joy in the bookish dark." Hmm?? So I am thinking he has transformed with his new discovery and he is determined to not give up this passion for anything, not even for the all mighty librarian. He has conquered himself and accepted his new joys. I don't know for sure. This poem was a bit of a stretch, but I still really enjoyed it!

Writing by Jan Dean

Writing

and then i saw it
saw it all all the mess
and blood and everythink
and mam agenst the kichin dor
the flor all stiky
and the wall all wet
and red and dad besid the kitchen draw
i saw it saw it all
an wrot it down an ever word of it is tru

You must take care to write in sentences,
Checky your spellings and your paragraphs.
Is this finished? It is rather short.
Perhaps next time you will have more to say.

Jan Dean

This poem is rather interesting. The first time I read it, I laughed assuming this was a commentary on how ridiculous the lack of editing can be. But then I really actually on the first stanza, the one nearly impossible to read. It was then I realized the italics were not the important part of the poem. In the first stanza you read in broken English about a broken home. It sounds to me like this child has witnessed abuse. The teacher goes on to comment about the grammar of it, asking, "Is this finished?... Perhaps next time you will have more to say." What this teacher did not realize is this child said everything, everything there was to say, but she was too involved with her world of editing to notice the intent of the author. This poem really is a commentary on ignoring the signs of abuse and this poem is an incredible way of saying it.

When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer by Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman is one of my favorite poets and this piece of his just makes me smile. It's one of his simpler poems. He speaks of a lecture he attended where an impressive astronomer spoke. This poem is rather narrative and doesn't use as much figurative language as most poems I write about on here. He spends four lines describing the astronomer's lecture and then writes, "How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick." I know how you feel, Walt. I love learning. Well, most of the time. But so often I sit in the room suffocating with the lack of significance of the lesson prepared. It was especially bad in Trig! Anyway, Whitman goes on to wander outside and looks up at the stars in all their beauty. The author's meaning is so sweet and SIMPLE. He is saying we spend too much time studying, explaining, justifying and not enough time enjoying. I love this philosophy. I have been reflecting on my life and have realized, like Whitman, things are too complicated. I have spent so many hours doing homework over watching a movie with my mom. Life is best in its simplest form. We cannot force explanations for miracles. To me, my family is a miracle. We are so happy. I hardly know another family like mine. Rather than ignoring the beauty of my family, only to aspire to the honors of the world I want to sit back and enjoy it. I don't want to memorize the constellations, only marvel up at the night sky.

Kafkaesque Cartoon

I definately had this done next Sunday but I saw on the blogs we're supposed to update it now? Is this our poetry blog for the week?

Much Madness is Divinest Sense

Much madness is divinest sense

To a discerning eye,

Much sense, the starkest madness.

‘Tis the majority

In this, as all, prevail:

Assent, and you are sane;

Demur, you’re straightway dangerous

And handled with a chain. -Emily Dickinson

I know I have said this a thousand times... I LOVE EMILY DICKINSON! She's brilliant. It took me a few readings to actually understand it. What really gave it away is when I looked up "Assent" and "Demur." To assent with something is to agree or concur. And then of course to demur with something is to disagree or argue it. This poem is once again speaking of conformity. The voice of the public who speaks against common knowledge is often considered 'mad' but she twists the word 'mad' from insanity to brilliance. This is a very clever social commentary on how society treats abstract thinkers. Rather than value the ingenuity, the brilliance is often tosses aside as mad ravings. Although it is a simple meaning, Dickinson has a very novel way of saying it which makes this poem more enjoyable than most.