Taking another look at Longfellow’s poetry…

Taking another look at Longfellow’s poetry…

Say “repine” a couple times…

 

 

I read lots of poetry—colonial, classic American, modern—and I don’t find much that I like.

I’m a bit puzzled by this. I think hard about what I like and dislike about poetry, especially my own poetry. I confess my sincere failure to discern anything meaningful in the kind of poetry I classify as “obscure,” you know, the wayward romp through disconnected words and disjoint images, and the wanton disregard of verb tense/pronoun antecedents/subject and verb relationships/sentence structure—I think you may have seen this kind of stuff:

 

“Sky falls cloud sheep bray at starry islands in my hoping

 are them my lost love I step around the dog poo….”

 

I just rapped that out. It doesn’t make me proud.

I’m trying to get to the point:

I’ve read a bit of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882). Longfellow was a lyric poet who tried his hand at free verse, although much of his work is constrained to the often stultifying shackle of line after line and page after page of rhyme. Longfellow wrote at length. I confess I can’t make myself keep turning the pages to read “Evangeline” and “The Song of Hiawatha.” I do understand that this fashion of poetry was written and enjoyed before the successive advents of radio, TV, Sony Walkman, the internet, and social media. I guess reading a poem for an hour or so was more doable in the 19th century.

Longfellow does offer something to me in his more bite-size poetry. He was a capable wordsmith and he dreamed out images and insights and perspectives that appeal to me, and even nudge my sometime muse to wakefulness.

 

In “Snow-Flakes” he placidly described a snowfall:

“Out of the bosom of the Air,

  …The troubled sky reveals

 The grief it feels.

 This is the poem of the air…”

 

In “The Rainy Day” he said something we all know:

“…Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

 Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

 Thy fate is the common fate of all,

 Into each life some rain must fall,

 Some days must be dark and dreary.”

 

Thus, in Longfellow, something of poetry.

Admit it, we don’t use “repine” often enough in our casual conversations.

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

Book review: The Financier

Theodore Dreiser’s villain…

click here

Seeing far: Selected poems with 47 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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don’t cross the buck’s trail…my poem

don’t cross the buck’s trail…my poem

blinking, not blinking…

 

 

Owning the trail

 

The sun was high,

the patient rays

   striped the forest floor,

tree tops swayed enough

   to nudge the shadows,

a bird sang half a song

   way down the hill,

an angry squirrel

   sailed across the trail

      and stared at me,

he didn’t blink.

 

I walked the next turn,

and stared without blinking,

an eight-point buck

   looked back at me,

he stood still

   as his woman and kid

      rambled across the path

         and disappeared

            in the hydrangea,

he didn’t budge,

he seemed to be daring me

   to make a move.

 

He showed no fear,

he owned the trail,

I was the stranger with two legs,

I looked at him for moments,

I faced him moments more

   as I shuffled back

      around the turn,

and shambled from his world.

 

The sun was high,

the shadows trembled,

I walked away through empty woods.

 

February 6, 2025

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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

 

Writing Rainbows: Poems for Grown-Ups with 59 free verse and haiku poems,

and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)

and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

 

Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.

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Moby-Dick and stuff…book talk

Moby-Dick and stuff…book talk

Moby-Dick and stuff….

 

 

I know whale tales aren’t for everyone.

If you’re still with me, you might be interested to know that Herman Melville’s iconic whale story was published 174 years ago (titled: “The Whale”) in London, and then, a month later, in New York.

The original American title is Moby-Dick; or, The Whale. Melville actually went to sea as a crewman on a whaling vessel, and based his novel in part on a real sperm whale named Mocha Dick, known to South Pacific sailors in the 1840s.

Early in his career Melville was briefly acclaimed for some of his South Pacific stories, such as Typee, but he was obscure during the last 30 years of his life. He earned only $1,200 or so from the sale of about 3,200 copies of Moby-Dick, which was out of print when he died in 1891.

A first American edition of the book can easily be secured if you have about $80,000 (free shipping!) to spend.

Melville wrote in a variety of genres—again, not for all tastes. I’m a big fan of Moby-Dick, and I’m also an advocate for Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street. Nothing of the South Pacific here. The circumstances of this desiccated short story are curious, even eccentric, incredulous. The withered and aloof Bartleby is presented, examined and disdained, until his very dispirited isolation makes him the object of the narrator’s genuine but increasingly troubled caretaking.

Don’t overlook Billy Budd, Sailor. It’s a searing morality play.

 

You may be surprised to know that Melville also wrote poetry. One critic has somewhat ponderously suggested that Moby-Dick is filled with Melville’s incipient poetry. I certainly believe that a story can contain a poem, but I don’t see anything like that in Moby-Dick.

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

The “dime novels” in the Civil War

Think “blood-and-thunder”…

click here

My first name was rain: A dreamery of poems with 52 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

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Age Power…book review

Age Power…book review

The merry-go-round keeps turning…

 

 

Book review:

Age Power:

How the 21st Century Will Be Ruled by the New Old

 

Ken Dychtwald (b1950)

New York: TarcherPerigee, 2000

288 pages

 

Dychtwald reviews the continuing retirement of Baby Boomers, and gives his take on the impact of extended life spans for everyone. He covers economics, politics, health care, and workplace issues.

The text of Age Power is a bit over-written (like most books on current issues). It’s easy to recognize the parts that can be skimmed, that is, the abundant details of the flamingly obvious: the Boomers are going to live much longer than any generation that preceded us, and we’re not ready for the consequences.

 

Age Power: How the 21st Century Will Be Ruled by the New Old

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

Writing Rainbows: Poems for Grown-Ups with 59 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

*   *   *   *   *   *

Hand me that hammer…my poem

Hand me that hammer…my poem

Too many gulfs…

 

 

Hand me that hammer

 

This lightening sky pulls my eye

   upward from newly darkening earth.

Our troubled plain

   has no points of light just now.

We face fears, terrors, hates, imprecations,

   repudiations, exclusions…

Too many gulfs appearing,

   too few bridges imagined

     in the grim thoughts of too many.

 

I will build one bridge today,

   I welcome this lightening sky

      to ease my work.

 

November 9, 2016

I work on building a bridge every day.

I try to do a good thing every day.

That’s good for me and for America.

It helps to keep me sane.

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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

Book review: All The President’s Men

The men and women

    who crave power…

by Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward

click here

Writing Rainbows: Poems for Grown-Ups with 59 free verse and haiku poems,
and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)
and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

 

Your comments are welcome—tell me what you’re thinking.

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The Asking…some poetic insights…book review

The Asking…some poetic insights…book review

warm blasts of beautiful…

 

 

Book review:

The Asking: New and Selected Poems

 

by Jane Hirshfield (b1953)

New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2023

343 pages

 

There is lots to like and lots to pass over in Jane Hirshfield’s poetry.

Most often her style boils down to the “wild child” type, apparently she’s not too concerned with the idea of “the best words in the best order.” Many of her poems strike me as disorderly, albeit enthusiastic.

I think it’s worth reading through Hirshfield’s The Asking collection to get the taste and the occasional warm blast of beautiful insight and intuition. Here’s a taste:

 

“Stone did not become apple….Yet joy still stays joy.” (from “Counting, New Year’s Morning, What Powers Yet Remain to Me”)

 

“She closed her eyes,

opened her mouth

to receive the end of her life.

Its last tasting.” (from “A Day Just Ends”)

 

“The impossible closes around

like a smooth lake

on an early morning swim.” (“Everything That Is Not You”)

 

“How sad they are,

the promises we never return to.” (from “Autumn Quince”)

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Book review. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2025 All rights reserved.

 

Book review: The Myths of Tet

How people get killed by lies…

by Edwin E. Moïse

click here

Writing Rainbows: Poems for Grown-Ups with 59 free verse and haiku poems,

and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)

and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”

*   *   *   *   *   *

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