i'm liking short poems at the moment so the first one is just what i'm liking!
the second one. brambles - isn't that a bit like blackberrying! ; )
i didn't like 'strangled', felt a bit forced for me and after the language going on before it, 'cardiac arrest' felt like a bit of a let dowen for me. everything else tho - loving that!
The Blackberries On the typographic bushes of the poem down a road leading neither out of things nor to the mind, certain fruits are composed of an agglomeration of spheres plumped with a drop of ink. * Black, rose and khaki together on the bunch, they are more like the sight of a rogue family at its different ages than a strong temptation to picking. In view of the disproportion of seeds to pulp birds don’t think much of them, so little remains once from beak to anus they’ve been traversed. * But the poet in the course of his professional promenade takes the seed to task: ‘So,’ he tells himself, ‘the patient efforts of a fragile flower on a rebarbative tangle of brambles are by and large successful. Without much else to recommend them – ripe, indeed they are ripe – done, like my poem.’
4 comments:
i'm liking short poems at the moment so the first one is just what i'm liking!
the second one. brambles - isn't that a bit like blackberrying! ; )
i didn't like 'strangled', felt a bit forced for me and after the language going on before it, 'cardiac arrest' felt like a bit of a let dowen for me. everything else tho - loving that!
thanks for that. I think I'm really just a short poem person! yes, I've just noticed the very lovely Edward Thomas poem on your blog! :)
and this, by Francis Ponge:
The Blackberries
On the typographic bushes of the poem down a road leading
neither out of things nor to the mind, certain fruits are composed
of an agglomeration of spheres plumped with a drop of ink.
*
Black, rose and khaki together on the bunch, they are more like
the sight of a rogue family at its different ages than a strong
temptation to picking.
In view of the disproportion of seeds to pulp birds don’t think
much of them, so little remains once from beak to anus they’ve
been traversed.
*
But the poet in the course of his professional promenade takes
the seed to task: ‘So,’ he tells himself, ‘the patient efforts of a
fragile flower on a rebarbative tangle of brambles are by and large
successful. Without much else to recommend them – ripe, indeed
they are ripe – done, like my poem.’
thankyou for this :) there are quite a few references to Ponge in the Hamburger book, I've not really read him before.
Post a Comment