A Poetry Carnival and other wakeup calls

It’s fair to say that progress has been slow. And I’m sorry to say that my first post, after all this time, is a long long way out of my arty comfort sphere. A few folk in the bloggy world are hosting Poetry Carnival today. They have been brightening my days with their posts for a while now so I thought it high time I participated via this little space I created a while back.

So the topic in question is the first poem we remember reading. I can’t tell you the first poem I remember. I did speech and drama. I liked to laugh. There are many quirky little rhymes that entertained me in my tiny days. “The more it snows…tiddly pom.” Some might say my tiny days continue to this day. I like to think they do.

But the first poem I remember reading – really reading – was The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost. If not for that poem, that poet, I think poetry would have evaded me as an artform for a while longer. I could analyse a poem. Parse it. Isolate the imagery. Name, explain and describe the techniques. I think even I wrote a fairly plausible essay about Ozymandias without having much of an inclination towards it. But this was the poem that I found myself in. Feelings turned into words, turned into verse, turned into meaning and all along saying something I wholeheartedly endorsed, without having put it into words myself.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say it flung open the doors of the canon to me. I battled my way through Introduction to Poetry in undergrad with the best of them – trying desperately, failing miserably, to find meaning other than sexual desire in the Elizabethans.  I even analysed a stanza of the Wasteland in a 2000 word essay. Those are hours of my life I’d like back, I might add. Frost made me tolerant. For all the poems that didn’t speak to me, that I studied like a little deskbound monkey, I had one good moment that dreaded essays or despised tutors could never take away.

And since then? I have found there are always more.

More posts soon. Big thanks to Miss Bluebird for inspiring me to breathe life back into this project.

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3 responses to “A Poetry Carnival and other wakeup calls

  1. Pingback: Reading Poetry in the Big Chief Years « Bluebird Blvd.·

  2. YES. Oh my, yes! I’m seriously excited! Of all the things that might spark an understanding about poetry, Frost and “The Road Not Taken” sounds like an amazing place to start.

    Do you know what I love about your piece in addition to the fact that it’s so well written?

    Here’s what I love—

    I think so many people can identify with the problem of finding a way into poetry— the Elizabethans, though fab, were full of sexual intrigues.

    And Eliot is what I would call “a poet’s poet.” I love his work very much, but still— he doesn’t make it easy for readers to try on his gait.

    Thank you for writing this piece. And now I am going to scurry off and post a link to your post from FB! (You will find there’s already a link on my blog!) YAAAY!

    • My goodness your enthusiasm is contagious! Thanks for all the pingback, commenty goodness. I have to say I was a pretty excited to be linked in an actual post.(squeak!)

      I don’t have FB but I like the sound of the way you use it.

      Off to read me some Dune so I have something to write another post about!

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