Poems give light to pleasure in words. I don't know what poets like it for, but as I practice my poetry every word comes alive, while I diffuse myself to that which lay before me.
From a burnt wood, from the slivers of time, from the gusty wind of waves,
how from heart unto heart life could feel and see, believe the hum of seasons,
touch the blossom of sun, face the whip of tide, thou receive the mercy of Allah.
Thought:
In poems the hands are filled with abounding grace
In those times they're denied the sweetness of flesh
The hands and grip are never releasing
Until something blooms from stars, the clouds drop rain
And refresh seeds for a harvest.
Check these beautiful poem lines from Master Poets. Each one can give a thought by expressing a feeling on the poem. It is not exactly to summarize it, but explicate the images that create sensations. Moreover, critics relate the poems to other significant literary texts. Express your thoughts!
T.S. Eliot: The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock (1909-1935)
"I grow old... I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled."
Thought:
A glimpse of aging as told by Eliot. Can you imagine how an old man rolls his trousers?
Carl Sanburg: The Ghost of Milton
"One of the triumphs of the poem is that is takes a literary figure and makes him not a remote writer in history, but a living and vigorous man." Paul Engle
"I would sit by fire and dream of hell and heaven,
Idiots and kings, women my eyes could never look on again,
And God Himself and the rebels God threw into hell."
Thought:
Milton was always in protest. Sandburg shows sympathy for Milton, and empathy to Milton's blindness.
According to Paul Engle, the last line of all "And God Himself and the rebels God threw into hell," is the strongest line of all.
D.H. Lawrence: The Snake
"Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second comer, waiting."
Thought:
The poet brings us an exact, vivid and true picture where snakes love to dwell. Humans need not attack, but just wait and see, as the lines express in "a second comer and waiting."
Man, as D. H. Lawrence (most afraid) is also honored by a snake accepting a kind of hospitality from us, letting the animal be first in the line. The snake, crawling holes, troughs, as in "dark doors" whence the snake comes from, from all of creations that part, of our secret earth.
True enough, a poem is from God's sup, dropped down our tongues, a sweet taste of bliss.
Rose Flores Martinez
PoemHunter.com
Iwrotefiction
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