Re: MD Poetic Quality

From: Platt Holden (pholden@sc.rr.com)
Date: Wed Oct 20 2004 - 13:15:22 BST

  • Next message: Platt Holden: "Re: MD On Faith"

    My sense of quality finds both poems very low quality, especially when
    compared to:

    Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
      And the mome raths outgrabe.

    etc.

    Platt

    Mark Steven Heyman wrote:

    > >Hi all,
    > >
    > >I love the bit in ZMM where Phaedrus demonstrates to his students
    > >that they know what Quality is, even if they can't define it. I
    > >thought it might be fun and instructive to try something similar
    > >here. So, which of the following poems has the highest quality, and why?
    > >(Note: I think both of these poems are great, so this is no straw man
    > >operation here.)
    > >
    > > For the Anniversary of My Death
    > >
    > > Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
    > > When the last fires will wave to me
    > > And the silence will set out
    > > Tireless traveller
    > > Like the beam of a lightless star
    > >
    > > Then I will no longer
    > > Find myself in life as in a strange garment
    > > Surprised at the earth
    > > And the love of one woman
    > > And the shamelessness of men
    > > As today writing after three days of rain
    > > Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
    > > And bowing not knowing to what

    > > Sad Steps
    > >
    > >Groping back to bed after a piss
    > >I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
    > >The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
    > >
    > >Four o'clock: wedge-shaped gardens lie
    > >Under a cavernous, a wind-pierced sky.
    > >There's something laughable about this,
    > >
    > >The way the moon dashes through the clouds that blow
    > >Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
    > >(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
    > >
    > >High and preposterous and separate--
    > >Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
    > >O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
    > >
    > >One shivers slightly, looking up there.
    > >The hardness and the brightness and the plain
    > >Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
    > >
    > >Is a reminder of the strength and pain
    > >Of being young; that it can't come again,
    > >But is for others undiminished somewhere.

    > >Thanks for any feedback,
    > >Mark Steven Heyman (msh)

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