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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 088 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
This wistful poem shows how the familiar and the odd, the real and imaginary, exist side by side. A Midwestern father transforms himself from a staid businessman into a rock-n-roll star, reclaiming a piece of his imaginary youth. In the end, it shows how fragile moments might be recovered to offer a glimpse into our inner lives.
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Posted by Rose on Friday, December 01 @ 19:37:19 EST (489 reads)
( | Score: 0) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 087 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
The first poem we ran in this column was by David Allan Evans of South
Dakota, about a couple washing windows together. You can find that poem and all
the others on our website, www.americanlifeinpoetry.org. Here Tania Rochelle of
Georgia presents us with another couple, this time raking leaves. I especially
like the image of the pair "bent like parentheses/ around their brittle little
lawn."
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Posted by Rose on Saturday, November 25 @ 14:32:07 EST (381 reads)
( | Score: 0) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 086 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
Linda Pastan, who lives in Maryland, is a master of the kind of water-clear writing that enables us to see into the depths. This is a poem about migrating birds, but also about how it feels to witness the passing of another year.
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Posted by Rose on Thursday, November 16 @ 21:25:31 EST (483 reads)
( | Score: 5) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 085 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
The Illinois poet, Lisel Mueller, is one of our country's finest writers, and the following lines, with their grace and humility, are representative of her poems of quiet celebration.
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Posted by Rose on Thursday, November 09 @ 23:14:24 EST (497 reads)
( | Score: 0) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 084 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
Many of this column's readers have watched an amaryllis emerge from its hard bulb to flower. To me they seem unworldly, perhaps a little dangerous, like a wild bird you don't want to get too close to. Here Connie Wanek of Duluth, Minnesota, takes a close and playful look at an amaryllis that looks right back at her.
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Posted by Rose on Thursday, November 09 @ 22:23:46 EST (424 reads)
( | Score: 3) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 083 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
Poems of simple pleasure, poems of quiet celebration, well, they aren't
anything like those poems we were asked to wrestle with in high school, our
teachers insisting that we get a headlock on THE MEANING. This one by Dale
Ritterbusch of Wisconsin is more my cup of tea.
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Posted by Rose on Tuesday, November 07 @ 14:34:16 EST (404 reads)
( | Score: 3) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 082 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
Many poems celebrate the joys of having children. Michigan poet Jeff Vande Zande reminds us that adults make mistakes, even with children they love, and that parenting is about fear as well as joy.
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Posted by Rose on Monday, October 23 @ 00:13:23 EDT (503 reads)
( | Score: 0) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 081 |
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Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004 - 2006
Readers of this column during the past year have by now learned how enthusiastic I am about poems describing everyday life. I've tried to show how the ordinary can be made extraordinary through close and transforming observation.
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Posted by Rose on Wednesday, October 18 @ 12:35:11 EDT (557 reads)
( | Score: 3) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 080 |
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by Ted Kooser, US Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
One of poetry's traditional public services is the presentation of elegies in honor of the dead. Here James McKean remembers a colorful friend and neighbor.
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Posted by Rose on Friday, October 06 @ 12:38:21 EDT (418 reads)
( | Score: 5) |
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| Poetry: American Life in Poetry: Column 078 |
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by Ted Kooser, US Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
Mothers and fathers grow accustomed to being asked by young children, "What's that?" Thus parents relearn the world by having to explain things they haven't thought about in years. In this poem the Illinois poet Bruce Guernsey looks closely at common, everyday moss and tries to explain its nature for us. I admire the way the poem deepens as the moss moves from being a slipcover to wet dust on a gravestone.
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Posted by Rose on Friday, September 22 @ 23:30:01 EDT (464 reads)
( | Score: 4) |
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57 Stories (6 Pages, 10 Per Page)
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