Litany Billy Collins You are the bread and the knife, the crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass and the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker, and the marsh birds suddenly in flight. However, you are not the wind in the orchard, … Continue reading
Some reasons why Blake’s “The Tyger” (see below) is super-awesome. 1. The first and last stanzas are (almost) word-for-word the same. They’re about the Tyger himself, and they’re set “in the forest of the night.” The second stanza and the second-to-last are both set in heaven, where someone (who knows who?) made the tiger. The third … Continue reading
The Tyger William Blake Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare sieze the fire? And what shoulder, & what art. … Continue reading
a poem by James Weldon Johnson. I love the sea when it is windswept The ships ploughing up the foam, The sailor man loudly swearing From sheer excess of joy, The shrill cry of a solitary sea bird, And the smell of the sharp, salt spray. I love the melancholy beach Under the shimmering magic … Continue reading
Emma remarked on my previous post that she doesn’t know anything about poetry, except what she likes. Well, I have loved this poem since I was a toddler. (In poetry-reading years, a “toddler” is about sixteen earth-years old.) We Real Cool Gwendolyn Brooks THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL. We real cool. We … Continue reading
I’m about to teach my kids a tiny set of lines from Alexander Pope’s Essay on Criticism–lines that set an all-but-impossible task for writers of poetry. As Pope would have it, True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learn’d to dance. ‘Tis not enough no harshness gives … Continue reading
