Here is a poem by Kim Addonizio
Happiness after Grief
feels like such a betrayal: the hurt not denied, not pushed away, but gone entirely
for that moment you can't help feeling good in, a moment of sudden, irrational joy
over nothing of consequence, really, which makes it all somehow seem even worse.
Shouldn't happiness be the result of some grand event, something adequate to counter
that aching, gaping chasm that opened when . . . But, no: it's merely this: there goes
our little neighbor, running barefoot, no pants, fox stole wrapped around her shoulders.
*
Kim's a good friend of Dorianne's - Dorianne was a teacher of mine at Oregon, and still is a teacher of mine, although in a different capacity now. "Fox stole wrapped around her shoulders" has something affirmative in its rhythm: three stresses in a row in "fox stole wrapped" and a slight acceleration with "around her shoulders", finally concluding with the feminine (unstressed) ending of "shoulders". A little hint of sadness there. I hope it's alright that I share it here, Kim and those of you at Poetry Daily.
feels like such a betrayal: the hurt not denied, not pushed away, but gone entirely
for that moment you can't help feeling good in, a moment of sudden, irrational joy
over nothing of consequence, really, which makes it all somehow seem even worse.
Shouldn't happiness be the result of some grand event, something adequate to counter
that aching, gaping chasm that opened when . . . But, no: it's merely this: there goes
our little neighbor, running barefoot, no pants, fox stole wrapped around her shoulders.
*
Kim's a good friend of Dorianne's - Dorianne was a teacher of mine at Oregon, and still is a teacher of mine, although in a different capacity now. "Fox stole wrapped around her shoulders" has something affirmative in its rhythm: three stresses in a row in "fox stole wrapped" and a slight acceleration with "around her shoulders", finally concluding with the feminine (unstressed) ending of "shoulders". A little hint of sadness there. I hope it's alright that I share it here, Kim and those of you at Poetry Daily.
posted by Wil at
6:13 PM
4 Comments:
There is a time for everything,
a season for every activity
under heaven. A time to be
born and a time to die. A
time to plant and a time to
harvest. A time to kill and
a time to heal. A time to
tear down and a time to
rebuild. A time to cry and
a time to laugh. A time to
grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones
and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a
time to turn away. A time to
search and a time to lose.
A time to keep and a time to
throw away. A time to tear
and a time to mend. A time
to be quiet and a time to
speak up. A time to love
and a time to hate. A time
for war and a time for peace.
May 2006 be
your time to laugh,
embrace & receive
personal peace,
Dr. Howdy
By
Videos by Professor Howdy, at 6:25 PM
wil, that's a beautiful poem. and i love how you break down the meter. sounds so teacherly. :) and it reminds me that we have a poetry discussion long overdue.
By
Jaime, at 6:32 PM
Wow, I didn't know poem ending had gender. It's like the gender thing in Spanish where inanimate object such as tables and books have gender.
By
junebee, at 6:45 AM
Junebee: It's true, and a little unfortunate: "masculine" endings are those syllables that are stressed. "Feminine" endings are unstressed. So ending a line "sounding hoarse and thin." makes "thin" masculine: it's stressed. Ending a line with "sounding hoarse and quiet" = a feminine ending: the stress falls on "QUI-" and "et" ends quietly. It's a sexist naming system for a basic element of linguistic rhythm, and should go the way of the dodo, but for now it's what we've got.
Dr Howdy: Interesting animation. Thank you for the verses.
Jaime: Overdue poetry discussion noted and scheduled in.
By
Wil, at 2:51 PM
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