In Terrence Hayes' "Lighthead" he focus on many aspects of sorrow and anguish.  He touches on where anguish comes from, where it goes and who it effects.  He discusses the effects that anguish have on the micro-level of the individual and the ramifications pain has on the macro-level of humanity.  The emotions of sorrow and anguish pack a gut wrenching punch of outstanding turmoil that can last a lifetime.  Science states that energy is neither destroyed nor created, only relocated.  That being said, the sentiments of sorrow and anguish must be placed somewhere.  Its final resting space can have a positive effect on the individual(s) or a negative end result. The outcome is manipulated by where and how one focus the emotional energy that is attached.  Terrance Hayes utilizes anguish and sorrow in his poetry as a common thread that at times, strings people together while other times is employed as a mean of oppression and destruction.  

     In Hayes’ poem “The Golden Shovel” a small boy is out with his father and witnesses a man striking his son;

“We watched him run to us looking wounded and thin.

He’d been caught lying or drinking his fathers gin. 

He’d been defending his Ma, trying to be  man.  We

Stood in the road, and my father talked about jazz,

how sometimes a tune is born out of outrage.  By June

the boy would be locked upstate.”

The boys father in this poem is trying to express to his son that beautiful things can come from terrible events.  A feeling is a feeling no matter what, that is absolute.  How the recipient of that feeling reacts is as diverse as the color spectrum.  Life is what you make of it and the individual is responsible for manipulating the situation to best serve their needs.  Leaning something from a negative situation can turn an unfavorable circumstance into a beneficial learning experience with just a flip of the switch.  The last sentence of the third stanza informs the reader of the fate of the struck boy which proves to be quite grim.  Directly after an uplifting anecdote speaking of transformation and beauty we are bombarded with a harsh reality and are made aware of the difficulties involved in squeezing sorrows into a sweet songs.  A situation that is teetering on the grey line that separates a beneficial experience from a detrimental one is manipulatable.

Through out the entire poem Hayes uses the word “we”.  In the first half of the poem “we” is a boy and his father.  In the second half of the poem those included in his “we” are not as well defined, but implied to be a group of people, a humanity. He goes on to describe the anguish a group of people experience and how they cope with their emotions.  

“While God licks his kin, we

Sing until our blood is jazz.

We swing from June to June

We sweat to keep from we-

eping.  Groomed on a die-

t of hunger, we end to soon.”

God created man in his own image so we are his kin.  His abusive licks are the sorrows that are inflicted upon us throughout our entire life while the songs we sing are a coping mechanism to help us get through the eternal monotony of the endless June to June.  Our world can be surrounded by anguish from all angles,  it is a human emotion that all of humanity experiences.  As inhabitants of our world, we are in this together.  We all have to deal with the grief, anguish,sorrow, joys and laughter that our world has to offer.  

In Hayes’ poem “Lighthead’s Guide to Addiction” he lists off habits and problems while offering cures to many of life’s idiosyncrasies.

“If you are addicted to sorrow, all my talk about loss is not loss to you.

No one knows why your father built a shed for his weapons.

Probably was some hellified form of addiction.

If you are addicted to weapons, please find the people who plan to burn 

the last black man alive at sunset for me, 

or try learning a little history”

The discussion of loss is therapeutic and must be dealt with.  Processing anguish is a painful and difficult procedure but is certainly necessary.  Knowing that other people share the same awful emotions is reassuring, knowing that you are not alone in your grief is comforting and encouraging.  The author’s father has built a shed for his weapons to deal with his emotional anguish, his weapons are his defense mechanisms and his shed is an arsenal with a short fuse.  His advice to weapons addiction is to education with history.  History is plagued with distress, subjugated by oppression and most likely to repeat itself.  The only way to combat the repetition of a dark past is to acknowledge it.  A learned historian has knowledge of the past and insight to the future.  

In “The Golden Shovel” the subjects of the poem are dealing with anguish and coping with it the best way they know how.  They take what they are given and make it work for them, they roll with the punches life throws. In “Lighthead’s Guide to Addiction” Hayes is offering advice and provides sanctuary from anguish and sorrow by means of knowledge, expression and confrontation.  

Sorrow and anguish are unavoidable facts of the past, present and future.  When in the line of fire, reaction time is key.  Know what you are facing and act accordingly.  Keep in mind the past and the future without forgetting about the present.

Him Again

Telephone rings, a ghost from the past,
Pleasant surprise or roll of my eyes?
Sweet words re-heard, a new spell could cast.

Honeysuckled "Hellos" arise from a flask
Old players, new games, a man in disguise.
Telephone rings, a ghost from the past

How've you been, these years go by so fast
Think of sunrise, apple pies and fireflies
Sweet words re-heard, a new spell could cast

Recall I can, but with some contrast,
I see red eyes, bad lies and horseflies.
Telephone rings, a ghost from the past

His soul sounds old, age comes on too fast
Nostalgia espies, should I deny?
Sweet words re-heard, a new spell could cast

Telephone rings a ghost from the past
I sigh, with closed eyes, a fatal try,
Finally, say a final goodbye
Sweet words re-heard, a new spell could cast.

Memorable Weddings

In W. H. Auden’s essay “Poetry as Memorable Speech” he speaks on the ideas of what makes poetry memorable.  According to Auden, memorable speech “must move our emotions, or excite our intellect, for only that which is moving or exciting is memorable, and the stimulus is the audible spoken work and cadence, to which in all its power of suggestion and incantation we must surrender.”  When someone is constructing a poem  they should keep many things in mind.  There must be an over riding theme to the poem, but that theme must be conveyed in such a manner that makes it worth while to create, read and most importantly, listen to.  He describes the cadence of a poem as having a “power of incantation”   that can gain momentum and take you to places you may never have dreamed of.  In Phillip Larkin’s poem “Whitson Weddings” he has an interesting rhythm and inflection while describing the end of a train ride full of newly weds that proves to be quite memorable.  

       “and it was nearly done, this frail 

traveling coincidence; and what it held

stood ready to be loosed with all the power 

that being changed can give.  We slower again, 

and as the tightened brakes took hold, there swelled 

a sense of falling, like an arrow-shower 

sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain.”

This passage has a memorable cadence along with word choice while still holding on to the theme of the poem.  The last three lines of the stanza specifically stand out and create an image for the reader that is relatable and unforgettable.  

Auden also focuses on the content of the poem and states that it does not have to be about something spectacular or amazing, just something.  “Everything that we remember no matter how trivial:  the mark on the wall, the joke at the luncheon, word games, these, like the dance of a stoat or the ravens’s gamble, are equally the subject of poetry.”  Even the simplest of things can have the potential for poetic beauty, being able to find memorable significance in  mundane observations proves to be quite memorable.  Another quote from Larkin’s “Whitson’s Wedding” is an excellent example of mundane transforming into extraordinary.

“All afternoon, through the tall heat that slept

      for miles inland,

a slow and stopping curve southwards we kept. 

Wide farms went by, short-shadowed cattle, and

canals with floatings of industrial froth;

A hothouse flashed uniquely:  hedges dipped and rose:  

And now and then a smell of grass 

Displaced the reek of buttoned carriage-cloth

until the next town, new and nondescript,

approached with acres of dismantled cars.”

Larkin was able to take a routine afternoon train ride and transform it into a journey full of sensory stimulating experiences.  What he sees, smells and hears is nothing noteworthy, but with his choice of words and the inflection of the cadence Larkin makes a striking impression on the reader.  With his memorable description of a mundane afternoon he is able to bring the reader onto the train with him.  The fact of reality is that most of the time, life is mundane.  When someone makes an everyday event exciting that is memorable speech.  

Auden also elaborates on the idea that “the test of a poet is the frequency and diversity of the occasions of which we remember his poetry”  The success of a poet is how often that poet’s work is referred to and thought about outside of the realm of poetry.  One easy way to get stuck in someone’s mind is to write about things that people deal with on a daily, or often basis.  Larkin describes the wedding attendees in his poem “Whitsun Weddings” that sticks in my mind and will reoccur at every wedding I attend:

“The last confetti and advice were thrown,

and, as we moved, each face seemed to define

just what it saw departing:  children frowned 

at something dull:  fathers had never known

success so huge and wholly farcical;

  The women shared

the secret like a happy funeral”

This scene is extremely relatable to most everyone who has ever attended a wedding  or has been married which is a good portion of the general population.  A wedding is not a mundane or everyday event but it is something that is memorable.  Memorable speech of memorable events gives the potential for a reoccurring memory.  Larkin was able to create a scene in his poem that occurs at every wedding and is relatable to everyone in attendance.

Memorable speech is something that, unknown to the reader is imbedded into their memory and shows its face when the timing is right.  One might be able to recognize memorable speech right off of the bat, but the real test is time.  There are many situations when one might read a piece of memorable speech and not know it until the time is right.  Walking out of church after your sister’s wedding one might think “The sun destroys the interest of what’s happening in the shade” and memorable speech is born.  

The Navigator

I check the roadmap then reply;

Right on Railside, left on Levi,

Straight away 'till Sunday Street.

Shotgun seat cant miss a beat!

Omaha to Opelika,

Pitstop in Tennessee.

Tupelo to Tucumcari,

Gas-up in Muskogee.

Always know just where you're at

"You are here" right on the map.

If you find you're in a bind,

Remember clouds are silver lined.

My family is a driving family.  We always had a big car that fit all of us, all of our stuff and always drove to every vacation. I have very vivid memories of reading maps, highways signs and roadside attractions while being enamored by the names of towns, streets and states.  Today I am still a big fan of long car rides and I still love reading roadmaps front to back.

The Figure of Love on the Farm (critical 3)

There are many ways to make a poem great, in Robert Frost’s essay The Figure a Poem Makes  he gives spot on advice that any aspiring or established poet could benefit from taking heed to.  His first piece of advice regards content,  “make all poems sound as different as possible from each other, and the resources for that of vowels, consonants, punctuation, syntax, words, sentences, metre are not enough. We need the help of context- meaning-subject matter”.  Frost urges poets to strive for uniqueness not only in word placement and thought out rhythm and rhyme but most importantly, the subject of the matter.  “All that can be done with words is soon told” is implying that  a poem is much more than words.  Putting a few syllables in order on a page is not poetry.  What graduates congregated syllables to a bonafide poem is the all encompassing theme.  With a notable theme and subject matter a mess of bland words and mundane situations can be reborn into the vibrant new life of a poem.  Poetry is the art form of word placement and play.  The raw materials of a poem (words upon words) do not make a remarkable piece just as tubes of beautiful colors do not make a painting renowned.  It is the situational passion that is embedded in the construction of a piece that gives it staying power and the praise of the literary world.  “Its most precious quality will remain its having run itself and carried away the poet with it. Read it a hundred times: it will forever keep its freshness as a petal keeps its fragrance.”  Frost describes a wild poem, a poem that has a mind of its own, a poem that takes not only the reader but also its creator on a wild ride from start to finish. 

In D.H. Lawrence’s poem Love on the Farm he successfully harnesses the beast and focuses its energy on delight and wisdom while still keeping the dangerous curves in the content.  Such a simple and archaic task as picking off a rabbit for dinner is transformed into something much more sensual.  Combining the two different but ever-so related themes of sexuality and survival he accomplishes the twists and turns that Frost discussed in his essay.  Lawrence delicately weaves a story that is not quite clear of its intention or direction until later in the poem when its figure takes shape.  “To be choked back, the wire ring, her frantic effort throttling:  Piteous brown ball of quivering fears! Ah, soon in his large, hard hands she dies” is seductively describing the farmer snaring a rabbit to bring home.  In the last few stanzas of the poem the speaker (presumable a women to whom the farmer is associated with) experiences the same type of steamy emotions as the snared rabbit in a new and totally different plane.  “God, I am caught in a snare!  I know not what fine wire is round my throat”  fallowed by the final lines of the poem “Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown against him, die and find death good.”  Two phrases of similar content and dissimilar themes with a super highways connecting them throws the reader in a whorl and lets them experience a truly form fitting piece of poetry.  

Hank Snow

Hank Snow is a good man.  The song starts to really pick-up around 0:30!

Critical 2

Even though both poems are about war and its horrors they approach it very differently for many reasons. The position of the author and the type of war both make a significant impact of the poem.  In "Easter 1916" Yeats is describing a revolution of his oppressed people.  It is something he feels vehemently passionate about.  The conflict is very close to his heart, but he is not involved in the actions of which he writes about.  Rosenburg on the other hand, is questionably on the other end of the spectrum.  He was cannon fodder for a devastating war that engulfed the entire world and eventually became his own demise.  In his poem “Break of Day in the Trenches” he enviously describes a rat who can “cross the sleeping green between” the English and German sides of the battle.  He is jealous of the rat because the rat has more of a chance of survival than the men on the front.  He does not have much of a political hue to his poetry like W.B. Yeats does.

In Yeats’ “Easter 1916” the phrase “a terrible beauty is born” is repeated three times.  Each time I interpreted as a different meaning.  The first terrible beauty is the horrific act of war (terrible) that will hopefully gain independence (beauty) for a nation.  The second terrible beauty is the prospect of being an independent state.  Once you gain independence the real trouble begins.  He is aware of the challenges that the independent Irish nation will be facing.   The third terrible beauty is the terrible tragedy it is for someone to be a martyr, the beauty lies in the gainfull product of their actions.

Pollination

War Poetry

Eulogy

It happens on a Monday, at 11:20 A.M.,

as tower guards eat sandwiches

and seagulls drift by on the Tigris River.

Prisoners tilt their heads to the west

though burlap sacks and duct tape blind them.

The sound reverberates down concertina coils

the way piano wire thrums when given slack.

And it happens like this, on a blue day of sun,

when Private Miller pulls the trigger

to take brass and fire into his mouth:

the sound lifts the birds up off the water,

a mongoose pauses under the orange trees,

and nothing can stop it now, no matter what

blur of motion surrounds him, no matter what voices

crackle over the radio in static confusion,

because if only for this moment the earth is stilled,

and Private Miller has found what low hush there is

down in the eucalyptus shade, there by the river.

PFC B. Miller

(1980-March 22, 2004)

When I was One-and-Twenty

Death of a Salesmen (Maudlin)
When I was one and twenty
Plans working in my head,
My friends they were a plenty,
Now many of them dead.
Once nut brown soft and lovely,
Bloodshot now, life has fled.

Shady trees now mark his place,
Tear stained earth upon him,
Crying mother wipes her face
Somber songs pose as hymns.

To who not knows deaths embrace
Be prepared, for it you face.

As The Train Leaves the Station (Upbeat)
When I was one and twenty
To their great dismay,
The world it was my oyster,
Each city my buffet!

In and out of town and state
The people, the places,
Mine did see our country great

Journey for my minds delight
On a road less traveled
Destination, homesite.
Location, unscheduled.

Shoulda' Woulda' Coulda' (Mixed Drink)
When I was one and twenty
Did not know I at twenty five.
The years go by so briskly
Mine, a life I wish to contrive.
I live now, mistakes a new,
Remembering the ones who flew,
Learning things for future brews.

Would I of days so long ago
Smile upon my current glow?
Have I acquired skills to bestow
Or have I stunk to a new low?
All these queries are mine.  Forego.