February 2017
John L. Stanizzi
jnc4251@aol.com
jnc4251@aol.com
Robert Frost spoke about "doubt" and how to cope with it by encouraging us to seek out "form." Frost wrote, When in doubt there is always form for us to go on with. The artist, the poet, might be expected to be the most aware of such assurance. But it is really everybody's sanity to feel it and live by it. Fortunately, too, no forms are more engrossing, gratifying, comforting, staying than those lesser ones we throw off, like vortex rings of smoke, all our individual enterprise and needing nobody's cooperation; a basket, a letter, a garden, a room, an idea, a picture, a poem. For these we haven't to get a team together before we can play. I was thinking of Robert Frost, and also all the doubt and chaos that has been caused by "that man" who has managed to abscond with the Presidency. I had already written 4 poems about him...the "campaign," the "election," "the transition," and my absolute incredulity. Then on New Year's Eve, as I sat alone by the fire-pit, I thought to myself, I refuse to allow such a creature to either intimidate me or steal my hopefulness. I refuse. And that was when I took Frost up on his suggestion -- I looked to "form." The poem I offer here is a rondel, and I hope that my intended sense comes through -- I am as strong -- or stronger -- today than I was yesterday, and in spite of the fact that so much is "burning" around us, I will continue to burn brightly with courage and hope. Peace and strength to all of you...my friends.
Robert Frost spoke about "doubt" and how to cope with it by encouraging us to seek out "form." Frost wrote, When in doubt there is always form for us to go on with. The artist, the poet, might be expected to be the most aware of such assurance. But it is really everybody's sanity to feel it and live by it. Fortunately, too, no forms are more engrossing, gratifying, comforting, staying than those lesser ones we throw off, like vortex rings of smoke, all our individual enterprise and needing nobody's cooperation; a basket, a letter, a garden, a room, an idea, a picture, a poem. For these we haven't to get a team together before we can play. I was thinking of Robert Frost, and also all the doubt and chaos that has been caused by "that man" who has managed to abscond with the Presidency. I had already written 4 poems about him...the "campaign," the "election," "the transition," and my absolute incredulity. Then on New Year's Eve, as I sat alone by the fire-pit, I thought to myself, I refuse to allow such a creature to either intimidate me or steal my hopefulness. I refuse. And that was when I took Frost up on his suggestion -- I looked to "form." The poem I offer here is a rondel, and I hope that my intended sense comes through -- I am as strong -- or stronger -- today than I was yesterday, and in spite of the fact that so much is "burning" around us, I will continue to burn brightly with courage and hope. Peace and strength to all of you...my friends.
New Year's Eve 2016
…and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
-"The Windhover," Gerard Manley Hopkins
Fire-pit on the last day of the year,
same intensity as yesterday’s fire,
the heat, the flames in a luminous spire,
so there is nothing more for me to fear.
Smoke into black December’s sky a smear
through thoughts of pain and the next crossfire;
fire-pit on the last day of the year,
same intensity as yesterday’s fire.
So what’s the metaphor I’m seeking here—
—the crackling of wood is a prophet choir
singing staccato hymns, those hopeful prayers
that, in spite of diminishing, still flare?
Fire-pit on the last day of the year,
same intensity as yesterday’s fire.
©2017 John L. Stanizzi
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