Bay Phillips - Poetry Blog #2

(I wish I could put a silly title for this blog post, but a. I am very sleepy and b. it just feels weird doing so, I'm not sure why.)

Let me preface with this: I am tired. I am so very, very tired, so this will most likely be an awful post/analysis. Apologies in advance.

I think my favorite part of this 'poetic conversation' would be the final paragraph of Strand's essay. At least, that's the bit that stood out the most to me. I'm all too familiar with the feeling of wishing "that I could write something like it, something with its sweep, its sensuousness, its sad crepuscular beauty, something capable of carving out such a large psychic space for itself." Given that I want to be a writer - though I definitely don't want to be a poet, being a good poet is way too difficult and daunting and I admire poets so much for tackling that challenge - this just really resonates with me. Not to mention the idea of a poem (or any piece of writing, for that matter) "saying things that I wished I could say." Regardless of the subject matter of whatever it is that you're reading, this is a universal feeling that people experience when it comes to good writing. It's envy, yes, but it's an envy that inspires reverence as opposed to resentment. Poetry is given a lot more free reign with how it's able to be constructed as opposed to prose, so it has a certain ability to put words together in such a way that really hit home. It's the subtle things, like a lack of punctuation providing the work with a flow to it, that work to a subconscious advantage. Another potent paragraph of Strand's would be the one that begins with "I also undoubtedly liked it..." and ends with "steady as nightfall." He's basically just gushing about poetic devices, but it really seals the deal on what makes good poetry so good. Every element of a poem, even the ones you might not notice, like the meter, help it give whatever impression it's trying to give. 

Honestly, I wasn't really that impressed by "You, Andrew Marvell" until reading Strand's essay. It just seemed like a general description of various places - or maybe I just wasn't reading it closely enough. In any case, Strand definitely spelled it out to me just how technically skilled MacLeish is as a poet, even if I didn't really appreciate his work on an aesthetic level. Goes to show that deep, insightful analysis can make something you don't even like seem awesome. The only part of "You, Andrew Marvell" that really struck me was the same part that struck Strand - the idea of being "face down beneath the sun." It's probably just the fact that I'm tired as heck talking, but lying face down in the sun sounds great right now, albeit full of sunburn and agony. On a more serious note, however, to steal Strand's comment: "This description of the distant night's inevitable approach, even as it reflected my own increasing awareness of mortality, was calming. I now felt located in a vastness, which, in my real life, had made me feel lost." Just... this. I feel it. The poem didn't immediately give me this feeling as soon as I read it, but Strand's reflection just resonates with me. 

"To His Coy Mistress" is cool because it's basically talking about seizing the moment and gettin' busy while you're still alive. Heck yeah. *does a cool skateboard trick* Nah, for real, though, this poem has a nice carpe diem attitude, particularly with regards to passionate love. As much as you might think that you're going to be with someone forever - or even in a platonic sense, if you think you're going to be friends with someone forever - that relationship can sometimes change, so you should take advantage of what you've got while you've got it, and I mean that in the best possible way. One should appreciate how transient relationships can be, especially ones based solely around passion, (I'm looking at you, Romeo and Juliet) and let your love "grow / Vaster than empires and more slow" while it can.

Time for an abrupt end due to the fact that I'm tired and am going to bed. Goodnight.