tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post5243035523611549958..comments2024-03-23T20:37:37.891-07:00Comments on First Known When Lost: HereStephen Pentzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-28558496508245647292021-08-22T22:28:16.143-07:002021-08-22T22:28:16.143-07:00Aicirtap: Thank you very much for your kind words...Aicirtap: Thank you very much for your kind words about the blog, which I greatly appreciate.<br /><br />That's a nice coincidence that your poetry group has recently read "Sunday Morning." Your mentioning it reminds me that it has been far too long since I have visited it: I need to do so. It was one of the poems that first introduced me to Stevens. It is also good to hear that your group reads his poems regularly. In these times, this is welcome and reassuring news.<br /><br />Thank you for visiting, and for sharing your thoughts.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-57246885214963899752021-08-17T16:23:23.107-07:002021-08-17T16:23:23.107-07:00Our small London poetry group meets weekly and we ...Our small London poetry group meets weekly and we have turned to Stevens many times. Your post is a wonderful complement to our recent study of Wallace Stevens’ Sunday Morning. I always look forward to your words, poems and selections of paintings - AicirtapAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-77684730986063526922021-08-09T21:36:06.688-07:002021-08-09T21:36:06.688-07:00Esther: That's a wonderful story! Thank you f...Esther: That's a wonderful story! Thank you for sharing it. What a nice complement to Stevens' words. <br /><br />Thank you for stopping by again. Take care.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-45370663976700026902021-08-09T21:25:25.832-07:002021-08-09T21:25:25.832-07:00Mr. Hill: Thank you very much for your kind words ...Mr. Hill: Thank you very much for your kind words about the post. "Yes, if only we were quiet": wonderfully put. I couldn't agree more. For some reason, two lines from Walter de la Mare's "A Recluse" seem apt: "And yet his very silence proved/How much he valued what he loved." Thank you again for that thought.<br /><br />As always, thank you for visiting, and for taking the time to post a comment.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-68248970868134625342021-08-09T21:14:48.509-07:002021-08-09T21:14:48.509-07:00John: It's great to hear from you. I complete...John: It's great to hear from you. I completely understand that you are busy, and even more so now with the campus re-opening. I hope the re-opening goes well, and that you have some semblance of a return to what once was.<br /><br />I agree with you about Stevens. I am often befuddled by him, but I have grown to live with my befuddlement over the years. There is too much beauty and truth in his poetry to walk away from, so I persist. The Man with the Blue Guitar and his other long poems are particularly difficult for me, and still mostly elude me. But a large number of his shorter poems are essential for me, both for their beauty and for their content. I think few poets have struggled as much as he did with trying to figure out "How to Live. What to Do" (to quote the title of one of his poems) and to articulate that struggle in their poetry. <br /><br />(By the way, I returned to Hardy's poetry over the weekend: quite a contrast, isn't it? Two different worlds. But, then again, perhaps not? It is remarkable how strong their poetry remained, and how it continued to develop, in their final years: Stevens until he was 75; Hardy until he was 87. And there is Yeats as well. The three of them are remarkable at the end of their lives.)<br /><br />As I've said before, I greatly value your long-time presence here, and I appreciate you taking the time to visit, and to share your thoughts, when your schedule permits. I'm happy to hear that you still find time to work in your allotment. Best wishes for what remains of the summer. The light already seems to be changing. Take care.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-23524325310675416562021-08-09T17:41:09.614-07:002021-08-09T17:41:09.614-07:00"...whose c preceded the choir" brings t..."...whose c preceded the choir" brings to mind a funny story from high-school. A classically-trained classmate was accompanying the school choir on the piano during a live recording session. The only thing she had to play before the choir started singing was a simple C chord, and she blew it! Even musicians get the yips. :)Esthernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-88330672810187495522021-08-09T11:50:57.889-07:002021-08-09T11:50:57.889-07:00Yes, if only we were quiet. Fabulous again, thanks...Yes, if only we were quiet. Fabulous again, thanks.Anthony Hillnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-90587897393983169432021-08-09T02:59:22.290-07:002021-08-09T02:59:22.290-07:00Stephen, A wonderful post, so many delights, Walla...Stephen, A wonderful post, so many delights, Wallace Stevens poetry of course and the poetry of Socho, which is entirely new to me, as well as the paintings of Paul Nash, one of my favourite twentieth century British artists.<br />I’ve recently been reading Stevens, The Man with the Blue Guitar, which I do every couple of years. I’m still not quite sure what it means but am always captivated by its rhythms and use of language.<br />I regularly read your posts, but over the past few months I’ve been so busy with work I seem to have little time to myself and when I do I’m usually working on my allotment. <br />Now it’s certain that we will be phasing out working from home and are returning to campus on a part-time basis there has been a lot of extra work preparing for the return of ourselves and the students. <br />I always look forward to reading your posts. Thank you.<br />John Ashtonnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-64902923135242686222021-08-08T00:39:18.860-07:002021-08-08T00:39:18.860-07:00Mr. Wallace: Thank you very much for your kind wor...Mr. Wallace: Thank you very much for your kind words. We need to pay attention to "the call from outside" each day, don't we? A difficult task (at which I fail daily), but we need to be alert to these "reminders." Which is why we need poets like Stevens and Sōchō.<br /><br />Thank you for visiting. I hope you'll return.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-83615719804293611842021-08-08T00:27:36.312-07:002021-08-08T00:27:36.312-07:00Mr. Parker: Wright's poem fits wonderfully her...Mr. Parker: Wright's poem fits wonderfully here. Thank you very much for sharing it, and for placing it here. It's been too long since I've thought of it. It perfectly exemplifies the observation you make in your opening sentence, as well as your subsequent observation that this "is something that almost all great poets have told us." I completely agree with you on both counts. The Japanese haiku form and the Chinese four-line chüeh-chü form come to mind right away, given the immediacy of their encounter with nature, but I agree that your thoughts apply to good poetry in general. (To me, "Lying in a Hammock . . ." has the feel of a traditional Chinese poem, and it's interesting to note that another poem in The Branch Will Not Break ("As I Step over a Puddle at the End of Winter, I Think of an Ancient Chinese Governor") has Po Chü-i as its subject.)<br /><br />I also agree with your thought about the absence of these encounters being why we find ourselves in a world that is "so radically out of focus." Well said.<br /><br />As ever, thank you very much for visiting, and for sharing your thoughts.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-20207257513912331752021-08-07T08:31:03.268-07:002021-08-07T08:31:03.268-07:00It is a tremendous comfort, this reminder of the c...It is a tremendous comfort, this reminder of the call from outside. Thank you!Ishmael Wallacehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00954139375737480274noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-34386138549698184052021-08-06T16:38:39.063-07:002021-08-06T16:38:39.063-07:00There is indeed more to life than simply encounter...There is indeed more to life than simply encountering nature, but there is nothing like that encounter to bring those other things into clear focus. (I say this even as we seek that encounter less and less, and I have no doubt at all that that is why so many things in our individual and collective lives are so radically out of focus.) It is something that almost all great poets have told us, isn't it? Your post immediately brought this example to mind -<br /><br /><br />Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota<br /><br />Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, <br />Asleep on the black trunk,<br />Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. <br />Down the ravine behind the empty house, <br />The cowbells follow one another <br />Into the distances of the afternoon. <br />To my right,<br />In a field of sunlight between two pines, <br />The droppings of last year’s horses <br />Blaze up into golden stones.<br />I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. <br />A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.<br />I have wasted my life.<br /><br />James WrightThomas Parkerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01587426021276029142noreply@blogger.com