I did know Ted Hughes and I partly wrote the book to explain to myself and others the complexities of a marriage that was for six years wonderfully productive of poetry and then ended in tragedy.
quote by Anne Stevenson
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Escaping Into Solitude
Escaping into solitude,
avoiding hunters’ need to roam,
I long for the latitude
to find my longitude, my home,
where the goddess who presides
over hearth and in the kitchen
born one week before the Ides,
lets me worship her and richen.
Michiko Kakutani reviews Diane Middlebrooks’ “Her Husband: Hughes and Plath: A Marriage” (Viking) in The New York Times, October 14,2003:
The portrait that emerges is that of a selfish artist who 'lived for poetry, with single-mindedness of the sort he had long ago discerned in W. B. Yeats, the first poet who ever seized his imagination.' Together, he wrote in a letter quoted in this book, Plath and he found a way to 'sacrifice everything to writing.' Without each other, he contended, he would probably have wandered off to Australia, and she would have become a professor and written books on the side. He told a friend that the marriage had been 'marvelously creative' for him for half a dozen years.
But he found it surprisingly easy to move on then, leaving Plath and their two children, when he 'wanted to be out from under her watchfulness, ' in Ms. Middlebrook's words. Because the marriage was an emotionally fraught and artistically productive relationship, the narrative of 'Her Husband' cannot help but fascinate, providing new tidbits of information and insight to anyone who has followed the melodrama of the poets' relationship and the scholarly deconstruction of their art and their lives.
The problem is that Ms. Middlebrook insists on subjecting Hughes's life to a relentlessly Freudian and often highly speculative reading, not dissimilar to that in her 1991 biography of Anne Sexton. And in placing Hughes on the couch she demonstrates an unfortunate tendency to overemphasize the autobiographical elements in his poems (at the expense of his imaginative transactions) and to gloss his actions and choices with a thick patina of psychological determinism.
She writes that the Hughes poem 'Song' is 'quite evidently a poem about the impact of Sylvia Plath on Ted Hughes, even if it was inspired by another woman and written more than half a dozen years before Hughes met Plath.' And she predicts that 'Hughes's access to poetic inspiration was eventually going to require two specific forms of rebellion against domesticity.' Both 'would be enacted against the women in his life, selfishly and sometimes cruelly': the first being an 'escape into solitude, ' the second being what she calls 'the hunter's freedom to roam, ' a need nourished, she contends, in his childhood, when he would escape his mother's suffocating hold by going out on the moors to hunt with his older brother, Gerald.
Hughes was a devotee of Robert Graves's book 'The White Goddess, ' which held that poetry evolved from masculine rituals of devotion to the Goddess thereby preserving humanity's connection to nature's cycles of birth and destruction. It is Ms. Middlebrook's theory that he found his muse in Sylvia Plath and that he saw their marriage as 'the doing of the White Goddess, ' which he was powerless to resist.
10/14/03
poem by Gershon Hepner
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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago
i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately
when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita
i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name
you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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His Booklover
and so it came to pass
that his book lover
that he loves so much
skipped the book that he wrote
in years,
feeling dejected
he wrote another one
intended for the one
who is willing
to have him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Book Of Love
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Who wrote the book of love
Well, Ive got to know the answer
Is it someone from above
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Baby, baby, baby
I love you, yes I do
And it says so in this book of love
That Im the one thats true
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
Chapter one says you love her
You love her with all your heart
Chapter two says youll never
You never, never... never gonna part
Chapter tree, remember
The meaning of romance
In chapter four you break up
Oh, wont you give me just one more chance
Oh, I wonder, wonder who
But who knew who
Who wrote the book of love
I wonder who
Who wrote the book of love
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Explaining poetry
How can I ever explain poetry?
To a child it would be easy
Eenie minee minee moe
Catch the monkey by the toe
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To get a pail of water
Is a poem easily understood by
A child
But to an adult
How can I ever explain poetry?
Can I explain it with a straight
Look in the eye
And I will tell him
Poetry Is looking a person straight in the eye
Yes you have only one more day to live?
Can I explain it to him
Like I have a gun and point it straight to his head
And say
Yes poetry kills and it kills you in a minute
And for free?
Or can I explain poetry to him
Like I am on the tenth floor of this building
And I tell him I am so problematic
And all I have to do is
Jump and kill myself
And he would be there
To tell me
Life is beautiful
There is reason to live
That I am loved
That many people still care
That I have a mission
That I have lots of good things to do
That this world has meaning
That I am the child of this universe
That I am no less than the trees and the stars and that by all means
I have the right to be here
That poetry can save
That poetry is one saving person holding one back to his senses
that poetry is hope, love, kindness
it has no word for hate
it does not kill
or enslave
or annihilate
Poetry is a decision
Not to jump.
That is poetry to me
And as an adult he must understand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Three
How can I ever explain poetry?
To a child it would be easy
Eenie minee minee moe
Catch the monkey by the toe
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To get a pail of water
Is a poem easily understood by
A child
But to an adult
How can I ever explain poetry?
Can I explain it with a straight
Look in the eye
And I will tell him
Poetry Is looking a person straight in the eye
Yes you have only one more day to live?
Can I explain it to him
Like I have a gun and point it straight to his head
And say
Yes poetry kills and it kills you in a minute
And for free?
Or can I explain poetry to him
Like I am on the tenth floor of this building
And I tell him I am so problematic
And all I have to do is
Jump and kill myself
And he would be there
To tell me
Life is beautiful
There is reason to live
That I am loved
That many people still care
That I have a mission
That I have lots of good things to do
That this world has meaning
That I am the child of this universe
That I am no less than the trees and the stars and that by all means
I have the right to be here
That poetry can save
That poetry is one saving person holding one back to his senses
that poetry is hope, love, kindness
it has no word for hate
it does not kill
or enslave
or annihilate
Poetry is a decision
Not to jump.
That is poetry to me
And as an adult he must understand
he must understand what i am really trying to say
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Hid Nothing From My Poetry
I HID NOTHING FROM MY POETRY
I hid nothing from my poetry-
I gave it all I had
My deepest feeling of my own life-
I wrote as if telling it to God -
But who needs these feelings?
And is it really poetry?
All my weaknesses and doubts and hesitations and fears
I wrote and write-
My poetry is my signature and says who I am
What it is others must feel and judge-
May God forgive me for my hubris and ambition
Even in writing this.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Young Poet
Poetry was something else
written by others
somewhere else
and came from
somewhere else
but the poetry
which he did not know
called one day
in a language he did not know
so he put down words on paper
and threw the paper away
but the words did not go away
and he did not know what poetry should do
until he wrote the words
which told him
what poetry could do
for only poetry can teach you poetry
*
Gertrude Stein stood behind me while I wrote this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Heather knows why and when her marriage ended with Richie and she knows why my marriage ended with Charlie.
quote by Denise Richards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The mark of a good marriage is partnership and continuing to feel inspired by your spouse. I had that with Tao. But the end is not necessarily the tragedy. Staying in a relationship that is no longer working is the tragedy. Living unhappily - that's the tragedy.
quote by Olivia Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Hate Poetry
i have read that somewhere,
if you hate poetry
you have to get
this book,
buy it, and
you will love
it.
sales talk.
if you really hate poetry,
why buy
a book of poetry?
you may dislike me
but poems
are nothing but
spits
of something
that you do not
want to stay
inside your throat
all i need
is a little relief
from this
urge to vomit
and here you
are
reading mine.
(i am
laughing)
so do you really hate
poetry?
k, buy that book
you will really
love it
(the book)
and hate the more
what you hated most.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Man Became Addicted To Poetry
A MAN BECAME ADDICTED TO POETRY
A man became addicted to poetry-
Wherever he went he read or wrote a few lines-
Poetry became much of what he did-
Poetry and poetry and poetry-
As if that alone could give meaning and pleasure to his life.
A man became addicted to poetry
And so lost at times
What true poetry is –
Now he writes without knowing
Whether he is truly writing
Or merely using the ‘idea and world of poetry’
For his own peace of mind.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Love Me - Love My Poetry
I once wrote some poetry - the best,
the finest POETRY
My POETRY came with a capital
"P".
My POETRY was distinguished
POETRY, proper, complete line of
Verse POETRY - honorable,
prehistoric, geographical POETRY
Divine, instinctive, even religious
POETRY -
I sent it to the magazines
The very good magazines
The very best magazines -
They returned it to me every time!
I once wrote some inferior POETRY
Low in style, irregular in measure
POETRY
Undignified, trivial, absurd POETRY
inadequate, mischievous, comic
POETRY
Some stuff like this - A CRIME -
I sent it to the magazines
The very good magazines
The very best magazines
They kept it every time!
Now, I ask of you - my question is
fair and brief - I ask
Of you - your ear I pray and beg you
give -
Shall I write intuitive,
comprehensive, reasoning
POETRY
Specific, Godlike, Capitol
committed POETRY
The sort I think will live?
Or shall I write inferior, very bad
POETRY - the kind that soon is
Dead - and send it to the magazines,
the very good, the best magazines
THAT I MAY LIVE INSTEAD!!!
poem by Bonnie Alden Phillips
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Healing Through Poetry
The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows
I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift
I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain
Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read
November 22,2009
Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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Just Another One Of Those Poem Thingies...
Well as you can tell,
This is just another one of those poem thingies.
But I ask you,
'What is poetry? I mean,
Do people just write words in wierd orders.'
Well, poetry is an expression,
An opinion, well I guess it could be,
Anything,
From a very 'sensitive' piece of writing
To an essay that you wrote three years ago.
The definition that you find in a dictionary
Has nothing to do with poetry.
It is just a summary,
No an assumsion of what those fools writing the dictionaries
Think it is.
Poetry is whatever you want it to be.
So next time some person who thinks that they're too cool,
And that your so stupid because you like poetry,
Weather it's writing it or just reading it,
Tell them that they write it too,
Weather or not they consider it to be poetry,
It's their opinion and anything,
Can be poetry.
I have a love for poetry,
That can not be described.
I know,
That sounds obsesive.
But I really do love poetry.
I feel like I can say anything and,
It doesn't have to be serious,
I mean it can,
But it is not required.
Nothing is required of you when you write poetry.
It is relaxing,
A chance to step aside from life,
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
I do it for my own enjoyment an relaxation.
Why do you?
poem by Maddy Macleod
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Mr. Me
Once a boy named mister me bemoaned a great regret
I've floundered in the misty sea, but can't abide its mystery
I wound up sad, you bet
So onward go and edward ho into the bounding main
Enjoy the show look out below but mind the misty sea
Or end up sad like mister me
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
So take the hand of mister me and mister, make him glad
To swim the mister misty sea and cease the mister mystery
That mister, made him sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
He ended up sad
He ended up sad
He ended up really, really, really sad
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Marriage - a book of which the first chapter is written in poetry and the remaining chapters in prose.
quote by Beverley Nichols
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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