#quomment

Diane G. Martin, The Blazing World

An incisive critique of the tyrannous reign of Trump in the USA! His description as a “thieving, venomous old merchant” strikes me as particularly apt, while the aggressiveness of establishmental patriarchy is captured by an effective combination of enjambment and cacophony, such as the growling and harsh consonances of ‘r’ and ‘ch’. The gradual disintegration of the rhymes conveys the ultimately self-destructive nature of intolerant society in a clever way. I also admire the creative perversion of maternal breastfeeding, with the breast “clenched ... in gnashing teeth”. A depressing poem, but rightly so! ;^(

Tully @thatgreeengentlewoman​, Poem #5

I really like the expression “my mind wonders” — a cute little pun that is wonderfully ambiguous. It might be referring to vague, insignificant ponderings that characterise typical mindwandering. It could be a highly positive feeling of wonder, a poetic attunement to the wonderful in life. Or, it could mean the opposite — wondering about something in a doubting, nervous fashion that refuses to offer the peace of mind required for sleep. But the wealth of interpretations offered by this phrase is playfully contradicted in the next line with a slathering of irony. The amusing last line offers two opposite readings of the poem — the lack of sleep may be a positive, productive state (especially if it was the source of this poem); it could, however, be a negative sleeplessness caused by unwanted thoughts, whether unpleasant or simply distracting — similar to John Keats’s request in To Sleep: “ Then save me, or the passed day will shine/Upon my pillow, breeding many woes.“ Funny, modest and surprisingly deep; what’s not to like? ;^)

Henry Lawson - Song of the Australians in Action

We stand in solidarity with everyone in Australia affected by the raging bushfires! Anyone who can should donate to the Australian Salvation Army as soon as possible. Such fires have devastating consequences on people who watch them consume their homes and all of their possessions. Only recently did the home of my favourite Australian poet, Oodgeroo Noonuccal, burn down, destroying everything inside — fortunately without the loss of life. She really deserves to be remembered more and I will surely post about her soon!

William Butler Yeats, To Ireland in the Coming Times

Top of the morning to the fantastic Tikki Troops and happy Irish week to you all! This week I am going to spotlight some of the best Irish poets to ever grace our world with verse — including several whom you have probably never heard of! We start off the pweek with a quote from one of Eirinn’s most famous poets — William Butler Yeats. I found this quote particularly fitting, because it explores the power of the land to inspire works of art — here, the Emerald Isle and its rich cultural heritage becomes Yeats’s muse. He creates many beautiful images throughout this poem which become even more vivid through his beautiful rhymes and employment of repetition. I found this one particularly powerful because it is always nice to see different people coming together, championing inclusivity and solidarity under the harshest of circumstances. Humans may be rather poor at this overall, but Yeats shows us that we should follow the example of mythical creatures and promote unconditional tolerance! ;^)

Edna St. Vincent Millay, To Jesus on His Birthday

It is easy to forget, in a gleeful fit of materialism and excess, what celebrating Christmas is really about. Flocking to shops under the spell of consumerism, we sever the meaning of the occasion from its celebration. Now, there is nothing wrong with fun and feast, even simply for the sake of it, but it is sad to see ribbons, wreaths and gifts overshadowing the religious aspects of Christmas. Imagine showing up at a birthday and elbowing the birthday person out of the way to get to the cake — that’s what it’s like to put a secular Santa over Jesus on His birthday. ;^|

Seamus Heaney, The Swing

The beauty of the swing — that favourite playground attraction of mine — is that it allows the achievement of equilibrium; one can feel almost as sure on it as if they were on the ground. The motion is still constant — the experience would hardly be enjoyable otherwise — but because of its predictability it offers a remarkable degree of stability. The slightest propulsion is sufficient to soar through the air — to fly and then fall — to oscillate rhythmically. Symbolically, of course, Heaney is describing queer love — scorned by traditional, heteronormative society — as being no less stable than heterosexual relationships. Perhaps my childhood (and still continuing) fascination with swings stemmed from a subconscious expression of my own pansexuality! ;^)

Sara Teasdale, A Maiden

Time for a pweek of love to celebrate Saint Valentine's Day! Sara Teasdale — a poet of Native American heritage from the turn of the twentieth century — may not have been much of a radically rebellious feminist, but she clearly championed equality when it came to love. She concedes to the status quo, but she also acknowledges the power of feminine sexuality. To this end she employs a curious simile, referencing the colour red as something that roses "blow". Instead of revolution, what we see in her poetry is passive, pacifist resistance — a method which brings great effect when used in conjunction with more determined action. The perfect choice for love! ;^)

Joseph Brodsky, January 1, 1965 (Translated from the Russian by the poet himself)