These are so powerful. At first when I read the date 1918, I thought he might have been writing about WW1 and I thought of Wilfred Owen and his poetry of war. Your poem is outstanding. So powerful. War is not poetry.
Aw thanks so much LeeAnn - really appreciate your comments. Yeah - I imagine that maybe 'The Poet In The Desert' was written in response to WW1 (as it came out in 1915) but drawing on his experiences of war from the 1870s? And thanks so much for the kind words about my one. Yeah, agreed. It's always hard to write a poem about war for me because of that - but at the same time, it's something I think needs addressing. So all you can do is acknowledge it, and attempt to negotiate the inherent paradox. :-)
Some of the most beautiful poetry and fiction addresses the losses from war, the price we pay. It is a paradox and we do need to hold all and write about all of it. Over this past week I keep coming back to Naomi Shihab Nye's poem "Kindness" and how to know kindness we must know loss.
Absolutely :-) And totally agree. Yeah, Naomi Shihab Nye is such a great poet. I hadn't read kindness before - I can see why you keep coming back to it. Stunner. Thanks for the recommendation. đŸ’œ
Yeah - his use of imagery is so stark and raw! I imagine the smell of war is something that never leaves those who have been in it, but as you say, something those of us who have not been to war would hardly ever think about.
Thank you for introducing Wood to us, Dick. I agree with LeeAnn - his poems are powerful. And your poem is so raw that hearts to the bone, but I love how you shift the mood on the last stanzas. đŸ–¤
Yeah - agree completely, his poems are so powerful! It was a bit of a revelation coming across them. So different from other war poets of the same time. Aw thanks - so glad it spoke to you. And thanks for mentioning those last stanzas - they were ones that took over, and wrote themselves, if ya know what I mean - echoing my research into ancient Greek gods and oracles - looking into that kind of stuff always has this strange effect on my writing. And often I am not sure why certain phrases and images come up, but I know they are important. đŸ’œ
Aw cheers Caroline! That means a lot. Those last few stanzas came from somewhere else - I don't even know where. But it was one of those moments where all I had to do was get out of the way, and let them arrive. :-)
Yeah - he's so good huh! When I first saw the 1877 date on that first one, I was like woah! He really had it going on. And he stayed sharp all throughout his career.
Hehe - that he did. :-) Aw, that's so kind of you Rod. I am really happy it resonated. I was ery happy to write it, and it felt right, if ya know what I mean. And the last section had that wonderful dream-like quality where it seemed to come from elsewhere - which is my favourite poetry feeling to get.
"war is a field/swallowing/bodies/nobody bothered/to bury" and "war is not/ poetry/ war is nothing/ but death"
These two are thought-provoking. I keep reading them over and over. Love this piece!
Aww cheers Pleasant. So glad they resonated with you :-) It was a satisfying one to write.
These are so powerful. At first when I read the date 1918, I thought he might have been writing about WW1 and I thought of Wilfred Owen and his poetry of war. Your poem is outstanding. So powerful. War is not poetry.
Aw thanks so much LeeAnn - really appreciate your comments. Yeah - I imagine that maybe 'The Poet In The Desert' was written in response to WW1 (as it came out in 1915) but drawing on his experiences of war from the 1870s? And thanks so much for the kind words about my one. Yeah, agreed. It's always hard to write a poem about war for me because of that - but at the same time, it's something I think needs addressing. So all you can do is acknowledge it, and attempt to negotiate the inherent paradox. :-)
Some of the most beautiful poetry and fiction addresses the losses from war, the price we pay. It is a paradox and we do need to hold all and write about all of it. Over this past week I keep coming back to Naomi Shihab Nye's poem "Kindness" and how to know kindness we must know loss.
Absolutely :-) And totally agree. Yeah, Naomi Shihab Nye is such a great poet. I hadn't read kindness before - I can see why you keep coming back to it. Stunner. Thanks for the recommendation. đŸ’œ
What an amazing poet. I have never think about the smell of the war. Incredible
Yeah - his use of imagery is so stark and raw! I imagine the smell of war is something that never leaves those who have been in it, but as you say, something those of us who have not been to war would hardly ever think about.
Children who have never laughed. The lean, brown fingers of the haggard year. What good lines. And I loved reading about his life.
Cheers Lex - yeah, he's a really interesting guy! And those lines - I agree, so powerful.
Thank you for introducing Wood to us, Dick. I agree with LeeAnn - his poems are powerful. And your poem is so raw that hearts to the bone, but I love how you shift the mood on the last stanzas. đŸ–¤
Yeah - agree completely, his poems are so powerful! It was a bit of a revelation coming across them. So different from other war poets of the same time. Aw thanks - so glad it spoke to you. And thanks for mentioning those last stanzas - they were ones that took over, and wrote themselves, if ya know what I mean - echoing my research into ancient Greek gods and oracles - looking into that kind of stuff always has this strange effect on my writing. And often I am not sure why certain phrases and images come up, but I know they are important. đŸ’œ
These are wonderful! Thanks for taking the time to unearth these relics.
Cheers Louis - an absolute pleasure. Yeah, Wood is a gem - his poetry blows me away! So glad they resonated with you too. :-)
"for the future
is born
from a river
flowing
down a mountain,
& we are the stones
rubbed
smoothed
by time"
Exquisite poetry
Aw cheers Caroline! That means a lot. Those last few stanzas came from somewhere else - I don't even know where. But it was one of those moments where all I had to do was get out of the way, and let them arrive. :-)
Wow: "The birds have fled,
Snatching as they went a morsel from
The lean, brown fingers of the haggard year.
The leaves are dead."
"The Mammon Monster" is stunning and sad. They're all so good.
Yeah - he's so good huh! When I first saw the 1877 date on that first one, I was like woah! He really had it going on. And he stayed sharp all throughout his career.
Mr Wood kept some exclusive company. I have to say that your poem steals the show, Dick.
Hehe - that he did. :-) Aw, that's so kind of you Rod. I am really happy it resonated. I was ery happy to write it, and it felt right, if ya know what I mean. And the last section had that wonderful dream-like quality where it seemed to come from elsewhere - which is my favourite poetry feeling to get.
That must have been an incredible feeling. It turned out so well!
Yeah, no feeling quite like it for me! Aw thanks! đŸ’œ
An excellent selection.
Cheers! Yeah, these poems are such bangers. So glad they resonated with you.