Mary ruefle some thoughts on the lyric essay

mary ruefle some thoughts on the lyric essay

moments at once comic and sad. As for poetry, of course it is a spiritual practice, in so far as it celebrates or laments the human spirit, in so far as it is always deeply curious about somethingit could be language, or the natural world, it could be the absurdities. You never seem to have lost that world. Rilke has written so beautifully about dolls. And this upsets some people. Thats the really great stuff: literature that can override the mood match. I read a poem, didnt like it, and therefore I will not like any poetry. Rail: I find Pontiac to be one of your most moving poems.

Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Mark put on the brakes and shouted, stupid deer, and I simultaneously said, at the same time in the same breath but with an altogether different tone, sweet deer, hoping we could get a little closer. We just wanted poems in a readable order. I hadnt thought of this reverse-simile observation before.

I am guilty of both. Of course, it would take me more than a lifetime to recover fromI would certainly want to edit. MR: No, I dont think there is any way that we humans, we persons, can speak for the completeness of stones by writing poetry about them, but the beauty of it is that that never stopped anyone from trying! In her poem Replica, Ruefle paints another scene around being here by not being here that goes back, in part, to Keats and negative capability: that transcendent impulse to live in the uncertainty or mystery of being human without resorting to explain it, coupled with. And when your pencil is sharp, use it until it is dull again. Perhaps that is what I am doing here; I am supposing this is a safe spot, and I am cursing the king, whom, when I am living in the village, I secretly loathe and disrespect, and whom, while I am cursing him, I secretly love. Personally I think we should all be in our rooms writing. Rather, Ruefles voice has earned a wide and eager readership among poets and non-specialists. We see a hat rack, they see a pony.

In what ways are poems acts of looking or seeing, and do traditional lyric tropes like the moon testify to that seeing or, in their being overused, obstruct it? (Among the Musk Ox People) Mary Ruefle never left Bennington (she still lives in the town) and became, like Emily Dickinson, an artist of wild daring emerged from a place that remained constant.