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February 19, 2011

A stand against the fake and self-serving


"Geoffrey Hill has been a force of, and forceful presence for, poetry, reminding the contemporary world of poetry’s capacity to function as poetry; an art form that stands up for itself against the fake and the culturally self-serving." -- - The Irish Times

In Memory of Jane Fraser
When snow like sheep lay in the fold
And wind went begging at each door,
And the far hills were blue with cold,
And a cloud shroud lay on the moor,
She kept the siege. And every day
We watched her brooding over death
Like a strong bird above its prey.
The room filled with the kettle's breath.
Damp curtains glued against the pane
Sealed time away. Her body froze
As if to freeze us all, and chain
Creation to a stunned repose.
She died before the world could stir.
In March the ice unloosed the brook
And water ruffled the sun's hair.
Dead cones upon the alder shook. 

Posted by Vanderleun at February 19, 2011 10:29 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

A stunning and beautiful poem.

My child was given a poetry assignment. She was to write a poem with various poetic elements, but it must not rhyme. I asked why she was not allowed to use rhyme, and her teacher had told her: Because it's immature, for kindergarten kids. Like Dr. Seuss.

I was stunned and angry. One of the examples she gave of non-rhyming poetry was Neruda (sorry, but WTF? Neruda? The kid's only 14! And ever since Il Postino it's Neruda this and Neruda that.)

She hates poetry and doesn't 'get' it.

What do I do to reverse this. I used to read poetry to her all the time.

Posted by: Jewel at February 19, 2011 5:43 PM

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