From: Charles Roghair (ctr@pacificpartssales.com)
Date: Sat Oct 23 2004 - 15:47:45 BST
Hello:
I like them both, but Anniversary strikes me as slightly self indulgent
whereas Sad Steps spoke of wolves of memory and the moon, to which I
can relate.
Sad Steps.
Best regards,
Chuck
On Oct 22, 2004, at 8:32 AM, Mark Steven Heyman wrote:
> Hi all,
>
> Here are the results, so far, of the Poetry Showdown. Jain broke the
> tie with her vote for "Sad Steps" but I tied it up again with my vote
> for "Anniversary."
>
> So.... I guess maybe the Quality level is just too close to call?
> But maybe more votes will come in as some of the less regular listers
> check their mail.
>
> The results and comments are collected below, and the poems are
> pasted at the end, for reference.
>
> Thanks to all. Poetry's important to me, and I enjoyed your comments
> very much.
>
> Best,
> msh
>
>
> joe:
> I liked the Anniversary of My Death. It spoke to me.
>
> arlo:
> I would choose #1 [Anniversary]. In some ways, mostly in spirit, it
> reminds me of Goethe's Prolog in Faust (albeit somewhat shorter).
>
> ... it pulled me into an emotive state deeper and more "still" than
> the second (partially, perhaps, because it sounds less oratory and
> more personal).
>
> msh:
> As I said I really like both poems. I give a slight nod to
> "Anniversary" It's a poem I memorized years ago and have recited
> countless times to friends and family, at every occasion, which is
> one reason I'm not invited over any more, I'm sure. To my surprise,
> the version in my memory has an extra "what" in the last line:
>
> And bowing not knowing what to what
>
> I like the idea behind the poem, you know, there's a day we'll die,
> we just don't know what day it is, and slip past it every year. The
> last fires waving and the silence setting out... Like Joe said, it
> speaks to me.
>
> Sad Steps is one of my favorites, and I love the trademark Larkin
> irony, but I've always been slightly uncomfortable with the
> parenthetical line
>
> (Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
>
> because it's one of the rare times you'll hear Larkin stretching to
> meet the form, continuing the "blow" from above and anticipating the
> "No" below. But this is a minor weakness in a fine poem, IMO, of
> course.
>
>
> jim:
> Took a couple of reads, but #2 [Sad Steps].
>
> I think it's the ironic sentiment. #1 is a bit too winsome for me.
> I.e #2 encomapsses more: because of its nod and wink to the ribald
> seems more sincere. There seems to have been more lost.
>
>
> jain:
> - I love Sad Steps.
> Vivid imagery, wonderful unexpected rhythms, lots of room to move
> around in, and a mood that sneaks up on you, gradually, rather than
> repeated throughout as in Anniversary....
>
> sam:
> I prefer the second, [Sad Steps] although I like both. I find the
> second more bodily, and more humourous, hence easier to identify
> with, not least its first line, which is so refreshing and basic.
>
>
> platt abstains:
> My sense of quality finds both poems very low quality, especially
> when compared to:
>
> Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
> Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
> All mimsy were the borogoves,
> And the mome raths outgrabe.
>
> THE POEMS
>
> For the Anniversary of My Death
>
> Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
> When the last fires will wave to me
> And the silence will set out
> Tireless traveller
> Like the beam of a lightless star
>
> Then I will no longer
> Find myself in life as in a strange garment
> Surprised at the earth
> And the love of one woman
> And the shamelessness of men
> As today writing after three days of rain
> Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
> And bowing not knowing to what
>
>
>
> Sad Steps
>
> Groping back to bed after a piss
> I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
> The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.
>
> Four o'clock: wedge-shaped gardens lie
> Under a cavernous, a wind-pierced sky.
> There's something laughable about this,
>
> The way the moon dashes through the clouds that blow
> Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
> (Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
>
> High and preposterous and separate--
> Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
> O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
>
> One shivers slightly, looking up there.
> The hardness and the brightness and the plain
> Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
>
> Is a reminder of the strength and pain
> Of being young; that it can't come again,
> But is for others undiminished somewhere.
>
>
>
>
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