MURTYMUSE

  POETICA : 7                                Poem of the Week Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening By Robert Frost [1874-1963] Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. Theme Poetry and Image –II Robert Frost’s fanous poem is like a milestone in many ways. It points both backwards and forwards. And that is how T.S. Eliot def...

  POETICA : 6                          20 Dec’ 20   Sun                      Poem of the Week By Ezra Pound*   The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough.   Theme Poetry and Image   It’s a big change from the emphasis on traditional devices of poetry like rhyme, stanza forms, metrical variations, to the modernist trend of rhymeless, punctuationless, ‘free form’ verse, often looking like or even presented as written prose. We saw some of these in our weekly quotes of modernist poems.   We are talking more of modernist poetry because it is closer to the spirit of our times. It has broken free from all the imposed devices of rhyme, stanza forms, regular metres – following a form and shape more akin to our s...

  POETICA - 5 13 Dec 20   Sun                                                                           Poem of the Week   May By Jonathan Galassi*   The backyard apple tree gets sad so soon, takes on a used-up, feather-duster look within a week.   The ivy’s spring reconnaissance campaign sends red feelers out and up and down to find the sun.   Ivy from last summer clogs the pool, brewing a loamy, wormy, tea-leaf mulch soft to the touch   and rank with interface of rut and rot. The month after the month they say is cruel is and is not.   Theme R...

    POETICA : 4 6 Dec 20   Sun   Poem of the Week   Between Walls By William Carlos Williams                          the back wings             of the               hospital where             nothing               will grow lie             cinders               in which shine             the broken               pieces of a green      ...