Tag lyric poems

* in the clear with Jane Hirshfield

José Angel Araguz 2 Comments

Reading through an interview with poet Jane Hirshfield, I was moved by a concept she terms “clarity without simplicity”:

…Yes, being clear without being simple is one of the poetic qualities I most admire in the work of others, and one I hope finds a place in my own.

I feel like this is one of the qualities that I strive to celebrate here on the Influence.

The phrase itself is clearly unsimple. For me, it implies some effort between the poet and the reader, an effort to not only get the words right but to come to them directly. The poetry in the poem a sort of clearing you have to find your way to, and which the poet clears.

Hirshfield’s poem below shows some of this in action.

* gang-related *

* gang-related *

Tree – Jane Hirshfield

It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.

Even in this
one lifetime,
you will have to choose.

That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books—

Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.

***

Happy tapping!

Jose

p.s. Check out the Hirshfield interview, in which she also shares some insight into Zen and its influence on her life, here.

* fitting in with Edward Arlington Robinson

José Angel Araguz 1 Comment

Octave XI – Edward Arlington Robinson

STILL through the dusk of dead, blank-legended,
And unremunerative years we search
To get where life begins, and still we groan
Because we do not find the living spark
Where no spark ever was; and thus we die,
Still searching, like poor old astronomers
Who totter off to bed and go to sleep,
To dream of untriangulated stars.

* I hate being that guy *

* I hate being that guy *

I’ve been dipping my head into the work of E. A. Robinson again.  He was a contemporary (and at times considered a rival of) Robert Frost.  He led a pretty bleak life: in his twenties, drinking and money problems had him kinda lost.

He eventually found a patron/friend/savior in the form of President Theodore Roosevelt, who, after becoming aware of his work, set him up with steady work hoping to keep him writing.  And it did.

I love this story because of what it says about not fitting in.  After reading him long enough, I’ve become convinced that some part of him was aware of not fitting in, and put it to work in his poems.

What I love about the octave above is the use (a successful use) of the words “unremunerative” and “untriangulated” – how the long words draw attention to themselves, almost seem not to fit in.  But they do, both in rhythm and sense: triangulated stars are those close enough to be measured.  The phrase “untriangulated stars” refers to those stars too distant to be measured.

That, to me, is the beauty of not fitting in: sometimes it comes in a way that is moving and encouraging.

Happy (not) fitting in!

Jose