Poetry Discussion

Favorite poems chosen by me during Jan Schmittauer's online poetry class.

Semi-Finalists Discussion Board

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou
“Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou is one of the most fitting poems I've ever read. Fitting in the way that it describes me perfectly. Ever since I was a little girl, I was an outcast. I wanted more than anything to fit into the “it” crowd, but it was impossible. I was poor, and I probably had very bad style. I was the teacher's pet, and most other kids didn't like that. As I grew up, I found this opposition following me. When I entered my 20s, I realized the world is much bigger than elementary school drama. In the past few years, I've been on an existential journey to find myself. Well, I've found that the things that make me who I am aren't always appreciated by others. This poem is sort of my alma mater. “Did you want to see me broken? / Bowed head and lowered eyes? / Shoulders falling down like teardrops, / Weakened by my soulful cries.” These lines remind me of my first marriage. I was united to a man who I swear preyed on my pain. I wish I'd known about this poem back then. Maybe its powerful words would've encouraged me to get out of the bad situation sooner. “You may shoot me with your words, / You may cut me with your eyes, / You may kill me with your hatefulness, / But still, like air, I'll rise.” There are so many people determined to spread hate in this world, and I stand for the promotion of love. To remain positive, like air, I have to float above the negative.

Wishes for Sons
by Lucille Clifton
I would like to say that if I had a son, I wouldn't wish a woman's pain on him. But I can't! I have to say that I'm a firm believer in equality, and men should – at least once in their lives! - have this blessed experience. Clifton just says what every woman has thought at one time or another. “Let them think they have accepted / arrogance in the universe, / then bring them to the gynecologists / not unlike themselves.” These lines make me so mad. They make me realize how many arrogant male gynecologists there are. That's why I prefer to see a female doctor. Every male gynecologist I've been to acts like he knows what's going on with my body. He has no flipping clue! I like a doctor who can sympathize, but a man can't, plain and simple. You go, Lucille. Tell it like it is.

The Portrait
by Stanley Kunitz
I don't necessarily relate to “The Portrait” personally, but the author makes me feel the pain he's writing about. I have a friend whose mother killed herself when he was six. He's now my age, 26 or so, and just a few years back, his father followed suit. This poem makes me think about that, even though the story isn't exactly the same. I think about all the anger carried around my my friend and his father all those years. And then his father gave in to that emotion. I can't imagine the pain my friend feels, knowing that his mother or father couldn't tough it out, if only to be there for him. I also have strong opinions about children knowing where they came from. Too many times I've seen a single parent keep their child's mother/father from them, and I think every child deserves to know where they came from.

Jogging with Oscar
by Walt McDonald
“Jogging with Oscar” makes me feel happy and sad all at the same time. I'm lucky enough to still have all four of my grandparents. I hate to think of any of them passing. I also like to think of my husband and I growing very old together, but I can't imagine what life will be when one of us loses the other. This poem forces us to think about aging and death, and Oscar helps us see the simplest joys that life can bring. I really like the progression of the poem, how McDonald describes how funny and cute Oscar is, and then moves on to tell about his wife whom he misses very much. I have to admit, I cried when reading this poem, and I don't do that very often. It invoked so many emotions at once, which makes it a very wonderful read.

What I Would Do
by Marc Petersen
This is my absolute favorite of my semi-finalists. I appreciate the honesty in this poem. If my husband were cheating on me, I'd be just as angry. I like how Petersen disassembles the home he shares with his wife, as if to show the unimportance of them, to prove that marriage is about more than linens and silverware. I also think taking all of the doors off their hinges is a metaphor for not hiding things from one another, like there shouldn't be anything "behind closed doors" between a husband and wife. As this poem builds, when I'm reading it, it gets louder and stronger and angrier. I love the emotion Petersen brings to the table. I was in some pretty bad knock-down drag-out fights with my former husband, but we never tore the house apart! Another aspect of this poem that I like is that all of this is really going on in the author's head. He may never actually be capable of pulling off a stunt like this, but if he did, with reason, I'd applaud him.

Loud Music
by Stephen Dobyns
I like this poem because it is almost a perfect portrayal of home. My husband loves to blare his rock and roll, but my four-year-old daughter likes to hear herself talk, sing, anything. I really like the author's take on why the stepdaughter likes to project herself and, in turn, what this means for the stepfather who likes to drown everything out. Dobyns' portrayal of the stepdaughter is perfect. Children are so self-absorbed, particularly at age four. They're all about “Me! Me! Me!” I, for one, am a music fiend. I truly agree with the author when he says: "Loud music does this, it wipes out the ego, / leaving turbulent water and winding road, / a landscape stripped of people and language- / how clear the air becomes, how sharp the colors." I love that last line most of all. Listening to music takes me away to a place where everything is simply more beautiful.

The Death of Marilyn Monroe
by Sharon Olds
My husband introduced me to Sharon Olds a couple years ago, and hers is the first poetry I've sat down and read for pleasure in ages. This is a poem I vividly remember, because it was a favorite of mine from the start. There have been many instances in my life so far when I was faced with the strange reality of death. I used to work as a newspaper editor, and I was writing stories about murders and publishing obituaries on a daily basis. After a while, I became cold and calloused and quite removed from the actual loss of a human being. But when I would go home, I'd take these families' heartaches with me. I spent many evenings depressed about my day's work and the terrible things that happen in the world. This poem made me think of that. The men who took Miss Monroe's body away were only doing their everyday duties, but something so shocking, so horrific, has changed the way they view their lives forever.

Oranges
by Gary Soto
This poem combines two separate types of memories I have. The first is of having little boyfriends for as long as I can remember. I don't think one ever used an orange to woo me, but many times, there was chocolate involved. The boy in “Oranges” is so caught up in this moment, as I can remember being each time I saw a boy I liked. Butterflies took over. The second memory this poem provokes is walking to the corner grocery in Wakefield with my mom. I'm not sure why. I guess just the description of the drug store, coupled with a walk through town, brings to my mind the daily walks we would take just to buy a Pepsi and a bag of chips.