Poems

What I’m reading:

July 30, 2011–Checking Out, by Tim Peeler. I recently attended a poetry writing class taught by Tim Peeler at Hub City in Spartanburg, SC. Each poem in this collection tells a story from his years working as a clerk at a motel. Each poem stirs the imagination with surprising images.  I discovered several videos of Tim reading poems from Checking Out. Watch, listen, and see if you agree.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4tLgQcSumU

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ea13eHWoBcg&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7csIUQQQe0c&feature=related

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“poetry” by Nikki Giovanni:

poetry is motion graceful

as a fawn

gentle as a teardrop

strong like the eye

finding peace in a crowded room . . .

a poem is pure energy

horizontally contained

between the mind

of the poet and the ear of the reader

if it does not sing discard the ear

for poetry is song

if it does not delight discard

the heart for poetry is joy

if it does not inform then close

off the brain for it is dead

if it cannot heed the insistent message

that life is precious . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two poems by Emily Dickinson:

“Tell all the Truth but tell it Slant”

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant–

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind–”

                * * *

“I Dwell in Possibility”

I dwell in Possibility–

A fairer House than Prose–

More numerous of Windows

Superior–for Doors–

Of Chambers as the Cedars–

Impregnable of Eye–

And for an Everlasting Roof

The Gambrels of the Sky–

Of Visitors–the fairest–

For Occupation–This–

The spreading wide of narrow Hands

To gather Paradise–”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I’ve recently discovered a poem about Stonewall Jackson, a well-known Confederate general during the Civil War. Can you picture him as he rides through his camp and commands his men?

We see him now, — the old slouched hat
Cocked o’er his eye askew;
The shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat,
So calm, so blunt, so true.
The “Blue-Light Elder” knows ‘em well;
Says he, “That’s Banks, — he’s fond of shell;
Lord save his soul! we’ll give him hell,
That’s “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An old favorite, especially at this time of year.

The Raven, by Edgar Allan Poe.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.’

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Song of Myself, by Walt Whitman.

Although Whitman wrote these lines over 150 years ago, he could be describing a modern-day hunting and camping trip.

#10

Alone far in the wilds and mountains I hunt,

Wandering amazed at my own lightness and glee,

In the late afternoon choosing a safe spot to pass the night,

Kindling a fire and broiling the freshkilled game,

Soundly falling asleep on the gathered leaves, my dog and gun by my side.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Funeral Blues, by W. H. Auden.

This poem was made famous by the movie Four Weddings and a Funeral.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dover Beach, by Matthew Arnold.

I love the opening lines:

The sea is calm tonight

The tide is full, the moon lies fair

Upon the straits; on the French coast the light

Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,

Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Published poems by Martha T. Robinson:

Matches, The Petigru Review, 4, in October, 2010 by South Carolina Writers Workshop. Nominated for The Pushcart Prize in January, 2011.

Unmistakable, Spring/Summer 2009, Mom Writers Literary Magazine

Reflection, 2008, Petigru Review.

Before I Knew, Spring 2008, Mom Writers Literary Magazine

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To Be Published Poems by Martha T. Robinson

To Silence the Echoes, to be published in The Petigru Review, 2011 edition.

Hands and Fingers, to be published in The Petigru Review, 2011 edition.

Autumn, to be published in The Petigru Review, 2011 edition.

* *  * * * * * *  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Award winning poems:

To Silence the Echoes, 2nd place in the 2010 Literary Competition: Poetry sponsored by the Arts Council of York County

Hands and Fingers, 2nd place for Excellence in Poetry, 2009 Carolina Christian Writers Workshop.

A Sunday Night Service at the All Nations Church, Honorable Mention, The Smith Moseley Award for Poetry, Southeastern Writers Association Conference, 2009.

Silent Echoes, 3rd Place, The Smith Moseley Award for Poetry, Southeastern Writers Association Conference, 2006

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s