Short essay about music in my life poems
The figure of God does not appear in the majority of Frost's poetry. Instead of traditional religion, Frost seems to have a more transcendental approach toward the issue of faith, specifically in terms of mankind's relationship to nature. There are times when Frost does suggest the presence of a higher power (such as in "Birches"), but even those references are largely metaphorical and hint at a personal relationship between the individual and the freedom of nature. In "Choose Something Like a Star," Frost takes a rather ironic position on the existence of God and quips about humanity's need to find comfort in a higher power. However, there is not an overwhelming sense that Frost has atheistic beliefs. Instead, he seems to promote a more everyday religion, one that highlights traditional American values such as hard work, duty, and communication.
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Many of my recent poems are about the act of pioneering, the beginning of the pioneering process, back in 1962, as if I can only get some just appreciation of it from a distance.
The answer to this essay question is highly individual, but there are certain poems in Frost's oeuvre that are particularly dramatic and powerful. One such poem is "Fire and Ice," which is far more compelling than one would imagine, given the length of the piece. The poem does not have a single extraneous syllable, yet Frost is still able to take the age-old question of the world's fate and instantly transform it into a metaphor about the emotional destruction of a relationship from either desire or hate. The equally concise poem "A Patch of Old Snow" follows a similar pattern, with Frost creating a comparison between snow and an old newspaper as a way to broach the larger topic of the loss of the past. Frost's ability to inspire a vast range of emotions and metaphors in only a few lines speaks to the potency of these poems.
An Essay on Poetry - Steven C. Scheer
Similar letters to my aunt Florence, my Uncle Harold, several friends in Canada, I think about half a dozen at the most, recipients of an annual ‘form' letter which Judy and I sent while living on Baffin Island, and others now lost to my own memory would make a collection of, I would think at the most, some three hundred letters.
A two volume work, of which I have just examined the first volume, by Martin Seymour-Smith: Poets Through Their Letters, Vol.1(Constable & Co.
texts | Academy of American Poets
In other words, the inclusion or exclusion of certain films, books or poems with respect to specific definitions of culture or just some item of culture tells us more about the power relations within which these definitions operate than they do about some inherent feature of the production of the cultural item, its formal features or the way it is consumed.
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-In Skepticism and Poetry, George, Allen and Unwin, London, 1937; quoted in The New Apologists for Poetry, Murray Krieger, Greenwood press, Westport, conn., 1956, p.107.
Time will tell who and what is great,
but there is momentous labour here,
just recently embarked, energies
transferred to this poetic passion.
We joke about it around the house
and I don't talk about it much:
all part of keeping the serious unserious,
the heavy, light and Murphy's Law
firmly entrenched in an Aussi psyche.
When you're doing something
that never seems to let you rest;
that hangs around your head
waiting to be fed like some new
behemoth; that waits to be translated,
incorporated, tucked into this
comprehensive, imaginative pattern
that encompasses the whole of life--
and by God you've been trying
to play your part, find your place,
do your thing, make your home
in this global Crystal Palace
all your life, with your life, for your life,
to your life and the lives of others
all over the place, so many specific places--
you get an enormous weariness
that keeps coming back after it has
sucked out every conceivable energy
you've got and you die.
Of course, morning always comes
and a more inclusive imaginative apprehension,
some rich and elaborate organizaton of impulses;
more and more is caught up and absorbed
into this great poetic vault which you offer up
to a place as near to your Lord's casket--
His alabaster sarcophagus, where lies
that inestimable jewel--as will be accepted.
If this vast construction, which labours
like a pregnant woman, will not lie on
the spot round which the Concourse on high
circle in adoration may it repose nearby
in the library as your gift for His gift.
Purdue Owl Writing about Poetry - Purdue University
198 and pp.5-6.
Great streets of silence led away1
in endless towns I've been.
I can't contain the all of it
no matter how quick or keen.
In this same immensity
Thy chosen Ones have dwelt.
They too have seen its beauteous forms
and felt just like I've felt.
There is a riddle, too,
that is my self and life.
I've thrown a veil of poetry
over what can't be cut with knife.
1 Emily Dickinson, Poem Number 1159.
26 February 2002
And finally this poem specifically about teaching the Cause since my first efforts, perhaps, forty-five years ago:
THE ART OF GLORIFICATION
A poetry which glorifies, which accords values to the previously undervalued, is part of poetry's very raison d'etre.