Category Archives: Poetry

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The Cabdriver’s Smile…

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Denise Levertov’s “The Cabdriver’s Smile”…

The guy’s Jewish (Star of David and something in Hebrew). Someone greets him with much enthusiasm and with his first name; he doesn’t know him? He accepts the generous tip, I imagine, with a curt nod and a “Thank you.” He’s hiding longing and hope though—he smiled at the camera (what kind of camera?) as if hoping to please.

The poet is squinting to read his license plate number; she probably took a photo of his car after getting out, perhaps to give the man a recommendation…

Man on a Fire Escape…

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Edward Hirsch’s “Man on a Fire Escape” captures a man who walks out onto his fire escape just in time to witness (a factory?) explode. Vivid descriptions abound for every part of that night, from the sunset coloring the sky to the flames warping the sky into many colors. I hope the people in and near the factories live. How why does this happen? Why did it happen today and not yesterday? Did someone bomb the place? Did the synthetic dye get adulterated with an acid? a sunset. (Tricky, tricky!) The key here was the phrase “almost unnaturally”—the day brightened; the factories burst into flame; the trees and shrubs, as well; the shadows of pedestrians, too; storefronts and cars and steel girders collapsing (disappearing) into the polluted waves—almost unnaturally.

Room of Return…

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Galway Kinnell’s “Room of Return” depicts someone returning from somewhere back to his home in West Manhattan. He describes his previous life, the view—both far and near, the sounds he hears, and his security surrounded by all these things. (“shelled by the dirty sea.”)

Man on fire escape

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This poem is difficult to understand and I’m taking another shoot to get this post right.

The man is on the fire escape to watch the sunset.

I think this description is good enough because if I add anything more I’ll probably have to correct it again. No one can argue with this, though.

Man on a Fire Escape

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The question I have from the poem, “Man on a Fire Escape”, is why the man went out onto the fire escape. Even the man himself cannot recall why he left his bedroom in order to enter onto the fire escape. It does not seem anything special about the evening brought him outside, as “It was just an ordinary autumn twilight”. While it certainly seems insignificant, if the man does not go out to the fire escape then there is no poem. If he never goes outside, there is no ambiguous ending because he probably never sees the same images, certainly not the same way he does from the fire escape.

Room of Return

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In the poem, “Room of Return”, I cannot figure out why the character ever left his apartment. By the way he describes the room, it is clear he did not take his things when he left, so how could he have left for years without taking his belongings? While I cannot figure out why he left his apartment, it seems like he returns to the room because he sees something new in his city. As the second to last line shows, “Tiny glimmer again in this city,” the character sees new hope in his city.

The Weary Blues

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My favorite part of this poem is the way the words flow as you read it out. There’s this sort of natural rhythm to it and when read aloud in the right tone and the right attitude, it’s really something. I really like how it mimics the rhythm and the sound of actual blues as well as how the writer uses slang to really capture the time and the language that was used. If you can’t tell already, I really like it when something sounds good and pleasing to the ear, whether it be a poem or music, etc.

Billie Holiday

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Despite saying I’ve never heard the blues before, I actually have! Billie Holiday is a famous blues, jazz, soul singer. She has many other talents but she is most well-known for her voice. I heard blues for the first time when I listened to Billie Holiday singing “Strange Fruit” in a Civil Rights Movement Through Photography workshop at the Museum of the City of New York. This song if you listen carefully to the words (or google them) is about the hanging of slaves in the South. This song perfectly combines the slow, heavy rhythm of the accompanying music with the lyrics that contain a powerful message.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4ZyuULy9zs

Construction Site, Windy Night Reaction

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This is my favorite poem that we have read so far this semester, but I especially liked the final two lines. In the final two lines, Christopher writes, “towering over them / and filling them with dread of heights”. I interpret this to mean that sometimes we create things that instill fear in others, and I think that is especially relevant today with the advances in technology and many people fearing how far it will go. These tall buildings that are being constructed are bringing about a fear of heights, which we didn’t really have before, since we could not get that high. And today we have many new fears related to the advancements in technology.

Construction Site, Windy Night Reaction

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I was really confused when I first read this poem. But, I still appreciated how it sounded when I read it aloud after reading it silently and having no clue what it all meant. What is iconic about New York City are the tall skyscrapers, the brownstones, plentitude of apartment buildings and just everything tall. There is always this constant sound of construction around the city, new office space, new family friendly apartments, newly paved streets. The city is always changing and improving for the constant flux of people coming in and moving out.

On Mannahatta

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After reading “Mannahatta,” by Walt Whitman, one thing really stood out to me. The overall mood and flow of the poem completely relates to the theme of the stereotypical Manhattan. Not once in this poem does Whitman come to a full stop, that is until the end. This matches the “hustle and bustle” that many people use to describe the fast-paced life that is demanded by Manhattan. He describes scenes separately, yet he is able to create a single picture. His word choice, even, causes the reader to keep the images of speed and grandness in their minds. He uses words such as “swift,” “ample,” “numberless,” and “countless.” Even in his descriptions of the seasons, he ignores spring and autumn, causing the readers mind to simply jump forward in time, adding to the element of speed. Overall, I generally enjoyed reading this poem, as it reveals how true the Manhattan culture has remained since the late 1800s.

Photograph from September 11th-Wislawa Szymborska

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This poem is describing the infamous photo of an unidentified man who jumped from the Twin Towers before they collapsed. What hits a chord is the third stanza that says:

“Each is still complete

with a particular face

and blood well-hidden.”

I just can’t imagine what a body looks like after falling that many stories. Szymborska is describing the body that is falling using what it looks like after it has hit the ground. She uses the negative to create an image of both the before and after-math of the jump. The 4th stanza elongates the time frame of the jump and really puts into perspective how long it took for the man to fall,

“There’s enough time

for hair to come loose,

for keys and coins

to fall from pockets.”

I can’t imagine what the man is thinking to himself, his death was definitely not a swift one, there must have been so many thoughts racing through his mind. The poet also exudes hopeless and wishes she could have done more. Szymborska wants to leave the ending unsaid for these jumpers, she only wants to describe this flight. Szymborska wants to keep them in flight, to keep their memories alive. Flight is usually used to describe a plane ready for take-off, but not in this case. The jumpers are in flight, however, it is a descending flight to their deaths, and the use is not describing a plane but rather a person. The plane in this scenario has ended its flight but the person is just in the midst of theirs.

 

On Szymborska – sample post

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(Here is a short reflection I have to Szymborska’s very raw poem on 9/11. Please note my use of tags as thematic markers so that you can reuse what you need and add more if there is no tag suitable already. Also note how I’ve categorized it both as “poetry” and as “week 2”)

Photograph from September 11 – Wislawa Szymborska

This poem struck me in a way that is not always possible when reading something. I can’t say whether it’s because I remember so clearly because I was your age, 18 and a 1st year college student, when 9/11 destroyed what we thought we knew about being American, or because the words are just so raw.

I instantly understand what the poet is seeing, the images of desperate people flinging themselves from the towers that flashed on the news for months and months.

What strikes me most of all about this poem is the connection she draws between the power of this writing and the photographic image: suspension. The photo froze them all above the ground, not yet dead. This resonates for me with where she stops her remembering: 
I can only do two things for them–
describe this flight
and not add a last line.
Like the harrowing images from 9/11, Symborska has frozen the now-dead before death–holding on to them in a space where we we can see and remember.