Showing posts with label lament. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lament. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Poets and Poems: Donna Hilbert and "Threnody"


Poet Donna Hilbert has something to say about the idea of lament. And like the fine poet she is, she says it in poetry.

 

A lament is a poetic type inspired by deep, personal grief. The poetry of lament is as old as poetry itself, cording to the Encyclopedia Britannica, developing alongside the oral tradition of heroic poetry. And it’s found in most languages.

 

Examples of lament poetry have been found in ancient Sumeria, in Homer, in Roman literature, and in Anglo-Saxon England. Geoffrey Chaucer’s “The Man of Laws Tale” in The Canterbury Tales is a lament, as is John Milton’s “Samson Agonistes.” Wordsworth, Keats, and Shelley wrote lament poems, as did Sir Walter Scott and Thomas Hardy (“The Darkling Thrush”). With In Memoriam, Tennyson may have written a lament epic. Dylan Thomas and Pablo Neruda wrote poems of lament.

Hilbert, in Threnody: Poems, her new collection of 62 poems, continues that tradition of lament, demonstrating that the modern lament is as contemporary as its older and ancient predecessors.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

You want to know


After Isaiah 58:1-12


You want to know
my ways
     Shout it
You seek me out
     Shout it
You ask me for justice?
     Shout it
You want me to see
your fasting to notice
your humility
     Shout it
     loud
  
Then:

be just
set free
be pure
feed the hungry
be light
be salt
be set free

Then you know
my ways

rebuild the ruins
repair the walls
restore the streets

he walked in the streets
armed with a broom and a heart.
Dust and debris everywhere,
filling his eyes, spilling
his heart

a small light
a flicker
rises in the darkness

     Shout it

Photograph of Ephesus by Kevin Casper via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission. 

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Too soon the evening shade


After Psalm 102 

Too soon the evening shade
enveloped him; he did not
know why 

too soon the face
was hidden from him; he did not
know why 

too soon his laments
found empty air; he did not
know why 

a life of ashes, an owl
among the ruins, seeking
love in the ruins
love in the desolation 

he was not by the waters
of Babylon but he drank
their fill 

the story was larger than the owl
larger than the ruins
larger than the river 

Photograph by Kevin Casper via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.