Fire Star Press: poetry

Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Saturday, May 15, 2021

ARE YOU A POET AND DON'T KNOW IT? by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

April was National Poetry Month, and a writing group that I belong to decided to do something different to celebrate their annual poetry slam, Verse of Ages. The Oregon Writers Colony came up with the idea several years ago to invite poets of all ages to read their work. The first events showcased people from age ten to ninety. From there, it morphed into something more generational, from Greatest to boomers to X and wherever we are now. That was fun as well, especially the kids who got up and recited some of their original poems.

But then came Covid. Last year’s Verse of Ages didn’t happen at all, but by the time 2021 rolled around, everybody knew how to Zoom and there was no way we were going to give up our affair two years running.

Since everything had changed, the coordinator thought it might be fun to change up the format as well, so at the beginning of April, she sent out a prompt word for every day of the month. There were no rules: do or do not; do some or all; write separate poems, or like one person did, incorporate all thirty words into a single poem. At the beginning of May, we all got virtually together to share our results.

Some of us are actual poets, where others had never touched the genre. I write the occasional poem and have even published a little book of cat poems, but I don’t consider myself a poet by any means. Still this prompt-a-day idea caught my imagination. I missed some days and skipped or made up for them later, but I got a lot out of it. Now I’ll share a few with you.

April 2 PATHWAY

Pathways

We walk the edge of the abyss,
fragile as moth wings
but with a phoenix heart.

April 6 JOURNEY

Don’t they say

life is all about the journey,

not the destination?

Still, sometimes I wish

I could get off this bumpy stagecoach

and rest by a tree,

by a lake,

under the long sky,

to finally call it home.

Photo by Yi Liu on Unsplash

April 10 ANSWER

If love is the answer,

then what is the question?

What comes after loss?

How do I deal?

Why are we here?

What makes us human?

What keeps us sane?

Why do I have so many cats?

April 12 GRACE

My Aunt Grace

was old and scary,

with penciled eyebrows

too high upon her forehead

and a red mouth

full of frowns.

I recall her at her vanity

like a nineteenth-century

memento mori,

black lace shrouding scrawny shoulders.

A tiny dragon,

she hovers over her hoards of

costume jewelry.

Rubies and emeralds,

sapphires and diamonds—

but not even their sparkle

can bring life

to that pale face.

April 15 DANCING

At night,

when we’re in bed,

the cats go dancing.

Cheek to cheek,

they twirl across the floor.

to the tunes of the mouse band.

Missy in her ball gown and

Tom in his tux,

around and around they cavort

until the crack of dawn.

No wonder

when we come down

the next morning,

the cats are fast asleep.

Photo by Mary J. Friedrich on Unsplash

April 27 SATCHEL

Somebody was running out of prompts

when they chose the word satchel.

No one uses that word anymore.

It’s briefcase or suitcase, bag, purse, or tote,

It’s knapsack, backpack, or pouch.

But satchel, old satchel,

has gone the way of the saddlebag,

to lie lost at the back of the closet

with the dial telephone and

the reel-to-reel tapes.

About Mollie Hunt: Native Oregonian Mollie Hunt has always had an affinity for cats, so it was a short step for her to become a cat writer. Mollie Hunt writes the award-winning Crazy Cat Lady cozy mystery series featuring Lynley Cannon, a sixty-something cat shelter volunteer who finds more trouble than a cat in catnip, and the Cat Seasons sci-fantasy tetralogy where cats save the world. She also pens a bit of cat poetry.

Mollie is a member of the Oregon Writers’ Colony, Sisters in Crime, the Cat Writers’ Association, and Northwest Independent Writers Association (NIWA). She lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband and a varying number of cats. Like Lynley, she is a grateful shelter volunteer.

You can find Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer on her blogsite: www.lecatts.wordpress.com

Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/MollieHuntCatWriter/

@MollieHuntCats

Monday, August 24, 2020

Robert Frost – Three Poems – by Kaye Spencer #poetry #firestarpress #robertfrost

This is my fourth article in an on-going series about my favorite poems.Click on the poem’s title to read the article.

July 2020: – Invictus by William Ernest Henley

June 2020: – Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

May 2020: – My Papa’sWaltz by Theodore Roethke

This month, my poetic interests focus on three poems by Robert Frost. I have these poems committed to memory. Before I delve into these poems, though, I will share a bit about Frost’s life

Unknown author at the source., Robert Frost, 1910s,
marked as public domain, more details on Wikimedia Commons

Robert Frost was…

Born in San Francisco March 26, 1874
Moved to Lawrence, Massachusetts following father’s death in 1885
Won four Pulitzer prizes for Poetry – only poet to achieve this
Received Congressional Gold Medal in 1960 for his poetic works
Recited a poem at John F. Kennedy’s inauguration on January 20, 1961. He was 86. The bright sunlight interfered with his ability to read the poem he’d written just for the inauguration (Dedication), so he recited his poem "The Gift Outright" from memory.

What I find fascinating, tragic, heartbreaking…choose your descriptor…and what undoubtedly influenced his writings, are the personal challenges and difficulties that colored his life and his world perspective. You can read this information on the websites listed below in the Resources section, but this is the most detailed explanation I’ve found. (Wikipedia)

“Robert Frost's personal life was plagued by grief and loss. In 1885 when he was 11, his father died of tuberculosis, leaving the family with just eight dollars. Frost's mother died of cancer in 1900. In 1920, he had to commit his younger sister Jeanie to a mental hospital, where she died nine years later. Mental illness apparently ran in Frost's family, as both he and his mother suffered from depression, and his daughter Irma was committed to a mental hospital in 1947. Frost's wife, Elinor, also experienced bouts of depression.

Elinor and Robert Frost had six children: son Elliot (1896–1900, died of cholera); daughter Lesley Frost Ballantine (1899–1983); son Carol (1902–1940, committed suicide); daughter Irma (1903–1967); daughter Marjorie (1905–1934, died as a result of puerperal fever after childbirth); and daughter Elinor Bettina (died just one day after her birth in 1907). Only Lesley and Irma outlived their father. Frost's wife, who had heart problems throughout her life, developed breast cancer in 1937, and died of heart failure in 1938.”

One doesn’t endure heartache and loss such as this and not have it influence your creative expression.

Commemorative Stamp US Gov, RobertFrost,
marked as public domain, more details on Wikimedia Commons

On to the three poems…

Acquainted with the Night – 1927

A favorite interpretation of this poem is ‘night’ equals ‘depression’, and the narrator walking alone in the city is an indication of his depressed mental state that isolates him from everything and everyone. This certainly fits with the sorrow and grief Frost experienced.

For me, this is a poem of loneliness. The person walks the night alone, because staying home is difficult to unbearable. The person finds solace in the solitude and freedom out being outside instead of remaining inside when the walls of the house close in. It is a poem of looking for something to replace whatever the person has lost, and that loss has left a hole of loneliness inside that can’t be filled. This poem as a metaphor for loneliness resonates with me, because loneliness is an overriding and recurring theme in the stories I write.

– Acquainted with the Night read by Ron Perlman as Vincent from Beauty and the Beast - television program 1987 - 1990.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening – 1922

I’ve read an interpretation that the woods represent irrational thought, irresponsible behavior , and the dark side of the personality, which is in direct contrast to the village, which represents civilization, society, responsibility, sensibility, and duty. The woods are where you lose your way, because the snow covers your tracks, and you can’t find your way back. The woods are a siren call or a death wish.

Well… I fall back on what I told my students when I taught literature. “Sometimes the dog is just a dog.” This means that not every part of a story of poem has to be analyzed or given symbolic meaning.

I see this poem as a moment in time when the narrator is so taken with the beauty of the snow falling in the woods, that time stands still. The narrator is drawn to enter the woods to experience the awe of nature. With the narrator remembering it is the darkest evening of the year, the first day of winter, which is close to Christmas, gives me a feeling of a young man returning home after being away from family for a long time, perhaps having been off to war.

He grew up in this village, and he is so taken by the sight of the woods that he remembers from years before, that he is caught up in moment of inner peace that he hasn’t felt since he left home. The horse shaking his harness bells breaks the spell, which reminds him he promised to be home before Christmas and he has miles to go before he sleeps…

It’s a happy, satisfying poem for me.

– Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening read by Peter Dickson

The Road Not Taken – c. 1915

Interpretations of this poem are all over the place from ‘following your own path’ to ‘no matter what choice you make, you’ll always regret not making a different choice’ to the sigh at the end being satisfaction or disappointment. There is a sense of crying over what might have been in many of the critical essays about this poem. Frost apparently wrote this poem with his friend, Edward Thomas, in mind, as a way to tease him about his (Thomas’) tendency to agonize over choices.

I read this poem as the narrator contemplating two choices before him (using masculine because Frost, a man, wrote the poem). The choices are ‘roads’. Roads are man-made, so his choices are not necessarily adventure related, but career/job related. It’s a poem about equal opportunities and having to choose one, and once chosen, there is no going back and no regretting.

Probably my personal experience with this colors my interpretation. I was working as a school psychologist while simultaneously taking the last few classes in the program. I had reached ‘all but internship’ stage, when I was offered the job of Director of Exceptional Student Services for 13 school districts. I was at the two roads diverging in a yellow wood. The poem fits my situation perfectly from then through the rest of my career in education and retirement and to my life right now.

I left the school psych program and accepted the director position. And that made all the difference…

– The Road Not Taken read by Tom Bates

Until next time,
Kaye Spencer

Stay in contact with Kaye—

Resources - Robert Frost:

Monday, July 27, 2020

William Ernest Henley's Invictus by Kaye Spencer #poetry #firestarpress

I’m continuing this month with another of my favorite poems. My May article HERE was about My Papa’s Waltz by Theodore Roethke. My June article HERE was about Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s poem, Casey at the Bat.

The poem I’m writing today is Invictus by William Ernest Henley, which is one of several poems I’ve memorized. You can read the poem HERE.


William Ernest Henley-courtesy Wikipedia

Here is a bit about his life¹/² —

Henley was born in Gloucester, England in 1849 (d. 1903). When he was 12, he was diagnosed with tubercular arthritis that resulted in the amputation of one of his legs just below the knee. Years later, his other foot was saved due to the care of Dr. Joseph Lister. Henley spent three years in the hospital in the care of Dr. Lister, who treated his diseased foot with what was at that time a radical approach.

During this hospital stay, Henley began to write poems. This is also when he met, and became friends with, Robert Louis Stevenson. It is said that Stevenson based his Long John Silver character in Treasure Island on Henley.

Henley and his wife had a daughter, Margaret, but she was a sickly child and only lived to be five years old. J. M. Barrie, a friend of the family, was fond of Margaret. In her speech-challenged way, she called Barrie her fwendy-wendy, which inspired Barrie to use the name Wendy in his story of Peter Pan.

Henley wrote Invictus in 1875. He published it in 1888 in his first volume of poetry, A book of verses. Click HERE for more information. His poetry is available through Project Gutenberg.

Invictus is a poem that speaks to us with a universal message that we must reach way down into our Will to Live, grab it with both hands, and never let go despite the challenges we’re facing or experiencing. It tells us to find the courage to go on in the face of hopelessness—whatever that hopelessness is on an individual and personal basis.

Another way to summarize this poem might be controlling what we can (our reactions and attitudes) when things around us are out of control (life’s not-so-pleasant challenges).

My reaction to this poem is this:

The first stanza is affirmation of the spiritual strength that keeps him going. It’s interesting that he doesn’t narrow his spiritual support to a particular denomination or belief. It’s spiritual strength that means something different to each person who reads this poem.

The second stanza explains his steadfast determination to meet adversity, hopelessness, and challenges head on and not only never back down, but to never complain. As my brother-in-law used to tell his kids when they played baseball and were hit in the chest by the pitcher’s fast ball: Don’t let that kid know he can throw hard enough to hurt you.

The third stanza is another affirmation of standing tall and courageous through it all, while also facing the unknown of the future, or even what comes after death, with dignity and fearlessness.

The fourth stanza (with allusion to a phrase from the King James Bible³) wraps up the poem with a declaration of pride that no matter the dire situation he faced in the past or will face in the future, which are both out of his control, he can control how he reacts. Hence, the famous lines…

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

This poem resonates with me because, like all of us, I’ve experienced hopelessness, heartache, injury, illness, and death. I’ve doubted my purpose in life, but I’ve soldiered on. I’ve put one foot in front of the other with the belief that tomorrow is another day.

Back in my teaching days, one of the graduating classes chose this poem as their creed. As a group, they recited Invictus to the audience on graduation day. It was a proud moment for me as their English teacher that the units we did on poetry all through junior high and high school (through which I dragged more than a few of students kicking and screaming) had been worth it.

Here is Morgan Freeman reciting Invictus. His reading is a tribute to Nelson Mandela, who reportedly relied upon this poem to help him through the ordeal he faced for so many years.

Until next time,
Kaye Spencer

References:

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Ernest_Henley

2. https://www.poetryoutloud.org/poem/invictus/

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invictus

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