A Poem About Poems

I'm empty of better ideas to write about today, so in honour of Poetry Month, I thought I'd inflict another one of my favourites on all of you:

Poem

Gwendolyn MacEwen (again)

It is not lost, it is moving forward always,
Shrewd, and huge as thunder, equally dark.
Soft paws kiss its continents, it walks
Between lava avenues, it does not tire.

It is not lost, tell me how can you lose it?
Can you lose the shadow which stalks the sun?
It feeds on mountains, it feeds on seas,
It loves you most when you are most alone.

Do not deny it, do not blaspheme it,
Do not light matches on the dark of its shores.
It will breathe you out, it will recede from you.
What is here, what is with you now, is yours.

~~~~~

I love this--a love poem to the Ideal of the poem. Though I think it is equally true of any artistic or mysterious endeavour; by trying too hard to understand it, by lighting matches on the dark of its shores, you lose it. The only way you can lose it. Otherwise, it will follow you everywhere.

The thing I love about Gwendolyn MacEwen is that she was self-taught. She never went to college or university. It shows in her poetry, it's unique and slightly mad and not at all the work of someone who was forcefed Shakespeare and Dickinson for four years. She won the Governor General's Award on a highschool diploma.

Posted by Andrea at April 10, 2008 6:52 AM under Friday Poetry Blogging

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