The gift of critique is generous, and I think its value shows in this poem.
But more than this specific poem; it has reminded me what I am trying to do.
It has shaken me from my laziness -- at least, for the moment.
John Haines is a poet I admire. I've always imagined his process of writing
as something like this: a few days sketching out initial drafts of a poem; a
few weeks of revising, tweaking, fooling around with it; several years
taking out all unnecessary words, until all that is left is what is
required.
I think Jane Hirshfield achieves a similar end, however she does it.
Are these 'mainstream' poets? Lyrical poets?
I don't know how they would be assigned, but I know I love their work. Also,
Mary Oliver, who would no doubt fall into this 'mainstream' category, and
many others, who might, or might not.
In any case, now I remember. Now I want to go back to work.
And, I thank you.
--
~ SB | http://www.sbpoet.com |
On Wed, Jul 16, 2008 at 6:02 AM, Kenneth Wolman <[log in to unmask]>
wrote:
> sharon brogan wrote:
>
>> It's a dark night,
>>> a slight moon.
>>>
>>> The scar remains,
>>> pale silent stitches
>>>
>>> from wrist past elbow.
>>> She held herself
>>>
>>> together. She healed.
>>> They used a saw
>>>
>>> to remove the cast.
>>> It screamed.
>>>
>>> She wakes in the breeze
>>> of the ceiling fan,
>>> sinks into deep
>>> mattresses; the sweetness
>>>
>>> of strawberries; tart lemon cake;
>>> the full scent of grass, just mowed,
>>>
>>> lying down on its own fresh self;
>>> the soft underwater feel of tree-
>>>
>>> shaded rooms. Even the taste
>>> of mountain fires,
>>>
>>> smoke in her mouth.
>>> Even that pleases her.
>>>
>>>
>>
> It works beautifully now.
>
> kw
>
>
|