Saturday, February 27, 2010

"Thirteen Ways of Looking at a _____________"

In my column for this month, I included parts of Wallace Stevens' "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird." I'm hoping we can use this great model to write our own "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a ________" poems. Every week I facilitate a reading and writing group in a Chicago homeless shelter. This past Thursday we wrote a collaborative piece, "Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wrigley Field." It is posted under the comments section of this post. Whether you write one alone or as a collaboration, please post your poem as a comment to this post!

2 comments:

  1. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
    by: Wallace Stevens

    I
    Among twenty snowy mountains,
    The only moving thing
    Was the eye of the blackbird.

    II
    I was of three minds,
    Like a tree
    In which there are three blackbirds.

    III
    The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
    It was a small part of the pantomime.

    IV
    A man and a woman
    Are one.
    A man and a woman and a blackbird
    Are one.

    V
    I do not know which to prefer,
    The beauty of inflections
    Or the beauty of innuendoes,
    The blackbird whistling
    Or just after.

    VI
    Icicles filled the long window
    With barbaric glass.
    The shadow of the blackbird
    Crossed it, to and fro.
    The mood
    Traced in the shadow
    An indecipherable cause.

    VII
    O thin men of Haddam,
    Why do you imagine golden birds?
    Do you not see how the blackbird
    Walks around the feet
    Of the women about you?

    VIII
    I know noble accents
    And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
    But I know, too,
    That the blackbird is involved
    In what I know.

    IX
    When the blackbird flew out of sight,
    It marked the edge
    Of one of many circles.

    X
    At the sight of blackbirds
    Flying in a green light,
    Even the bawds of euphony
    Would cry out sharply.

    XI
    He rode over Connecticut
    In a glass coach.
    Once, a fear pierced him,
    In that he mistook
    The shadow of his equipage
    For blackbirds.

    XII
    The river is moving.
    The blackbird must be flying.
    XIII
    It was evening all afternoon.
    It was snowing
    And it was going to snow.
    The blackbird sat
    In the cedar-limbs.

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  2. Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wrigley Field


    I
    From my 16th floor perch,
    I hear the crowd cheer,
    Knowing I’m two seconds behind reality.

    II
    10,000 seats filled to the upmost,
    loud sounds of joy in the air.

    III
    A drunk haven for fans of all ages to forget about reality,
    a time for all to become one as losers.

    IV
    The Cubs are my red, white and blue.
    God bless Chicago.

    V
    Over-priced seats and eats, but still ,
    to us, Harry Carry is our life beat.

    VI
    Entering into Chicago a new city
    I saw this historical place
    Which still serves its duty in this community

    VII
    The team is ready
    And so am I

    VIII
    This place where
    Families meet regularly
    Memories of great experiences
    And where people live up their dreams

    IX
    Wrigley Field reminds me of the strip club.
    You pay for something you won’t get.
    Sometimes it’s better off to dream.

    X
    With the goat
    Without the goat
    The ivy holds secrets
    Derek Lee cannot.

    XI
    Back, back, back
    It’s a homerun.

    XII
    The bleachers section: drunk
    Popped collars and energy.

    XIII
    Beer, peanuts, hot dogs, sun.
    Oh—and I guess there’s the game too.


    By: Alex Permijo, Carolyn Henson, Steven, Ty, and Kate Brady

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