Dr. Robinson, my first captain
of poetry's starship, would have no slumping,
no folding of arms across the chest
in that re-purposed college classroom.
He sent us traveling--two dozen satalites--
around and around, intending each one
to arrive, in one's own mind,
at some central truth.
Poetry matters because
life matters. We live our poems
well or poorly, and sometimes we miss
the inestimable music.
I want, Dr. Robinson, "the reconciling
of opposites." I've lived the images
of solitude, loneliness, laziness, longing
with eyes open as Illinois miles,
or reticent as roots beneath the snow.
I've watched monarchs emerge
from emerald tombs. I've plucked
bright sulfurs, wing by ragged wing,
from the old car's grille.
The reconciling--that
is what I want.
of poetry's starship, would have no slumping,
no folding of arms across the chest
in that re-purposed college classroom.
He sent us traveling--two dozen satalites--
around and around, intending each one
to arrive, in one's own mind,
at some central truth.
Poetry matters because
life matters. We live our poems
well or poorly, and sometimes we miss
the inestimable music.
I want, Dr. Robinson, "the reconciling
of opposites." I've lived the images
of solitude, loneliness, laziness, longing
with eyes open as Illinois miles,
or reticent as roots beneath the snow.
I've watched monarchs emerge
from emerald tombs. I've plucked
bright sulfurs, wing by ragged wing,
from the old car's grille.
The reconciling--that
is what I want.
Wow! I wasn't expecting the starship-and-satellite imagery, but I am very glad of it! And there's something I love about the phrase that ends the second stanza: "the inestimable music." Sometimes a phrase takes hold of a reader, and the reader can't articulate why --
ReplyDelete-- and the glorious specificity of the last four lines of the third stanza, the monarchs, the sulfurs, the old car's grille.
I've never had a course in the writing of poetry, although I've had plenty of excellent teachers (both in high school and at college) in the reading of poetry. I think I would have benefited from having encountered a Dr Robinson somewhere along the line!
Thank you -- again, and always.
Thank you, Thomas! Dr. Robinson taught me to hear and relish the music of poetry, but he didn't have us write any. During the early sessions, he wouldn't even let us read them aloud in class, because he wanted to teach us to read them well first. An elderly retiree from the state university, he taught my Intro to Lit and Intro to Poetry classes at the community college I attended prior to Bryan. My own poetry didn't take off until I took Dr. Impson's creative writing class, but I took the music to heart first from Dr. Robinson.
DeleteAnd that training has paid off in spades, dear heart, because music is of course the heart of poetry. It's because you hear the music that you can write free verse that is really poetry. I love the image of the classroom in this poem!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Beth! I am so very blessed by all of my teachers. I'm seeing now how their (your :) influence continues far beyond the few years of college.
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