Chicken Spaghetti

Books, Books, Books

recent posts

about

Poetry Friday, Oct. 17

I really like the work of the poet Camille T. Dungy, and want to read more of it. Her nonfiction book Soil: The Story of a Black Mother’s Garden is excellent, as is Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry, which she edited.

So, the poem I chose today is Dungy’s “Characteristics of Life” from 2017, available to read at the Poetry Foundation. The images and ideas in here delight me, even though I’m not quite sure who the “you with the candle” is at the end. What do you all think?

The Poetry Friday roundup is at Sarah Grace Tuttle’s blog today.

Posted in

13 responses to “Poetry Friday, Oct. 17”

  1. Laura Purdie Salas Avatar
    Laura Purdie Salas

    Ooh, interesting. I wonder if the “you” is the academic, the learned person, the person who thinks he knows everything…Thanks, Susan!

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      Laura, that very well could be! The isolated learned person, set apart from the rest of the creatures, perhaps.

      Like

      Reply
  2. Sarah Tuttle Avatar
    Sarah Tuttle

    This in an incredible poem– thank you so much for sharing it! I think, to me, the last stanza calls to mind someone burning the candle at both ends… perhaps sitting at a desk, as the “table for one.” Someone who works late into the night, and understands what it is to be overlooked. But, I think the joy of poetry is that it can so often be read in many ways… I’m curious what others think!

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      Sarah, yes, I like that about poetry, too! The “you” does seem to be someone who works too hard. I just love the repetition of “ask me” and “I will tell you” and all the unexpected places the speaker takes us.

      Like

      Reply
  3. lindabaie Avatar
    lindabaie

    Wow, the poem feels like a shout from someone so lonely, both knowledgeable but feels unheard. From our personal reading, it’s interesting to read others’ take on it, too. Thanks, Susan

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      Linda, thanks so much for chiming in. Re-reading the poem, I see what you mean. Maybe the speaker is a person who feels ignored in the way we’re so often ignoring nature? The lines “I speak/
      from the time before spinelessness was frowned upon” are kind of humorous, and yet they make me wonder about “spinelessness” and what the poet may mean. In this case, it seems like literal spinelessness…or is it?

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. lindabaie Avatar
        lindabaie

        It’s rather wonderful to have a poem so enigmatic, just like people!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. patriciafranz Avatar
    patriciafranz

    I’ve enjoyed so many of Dungy’s poems and essays, this one especially. Last year for National Poetry month, I pulled lines from her work and used them as writing prompts. So rich!

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      Patricia, using her lines for prompts is a great idea. I may have to try that too. Thank you!

      Like

      Reply
  5. maryleehahn Avatar
    maryleehahn

    I love Dungy’s work (I’ve read SOIL and immediately bought and have browsed BLACK NATURE). Thanks for this new-to-me poem by her! Who is the you? Why, it’s me, of course! Or any poet or writer or artist working alone, filtering, filtering, filtering, both mindful and mindless.

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      Oooh, I like that interpretation, Mary Lee. It does indeed sound like the work of an artist.

      Like

      Reply
  6. Karen Edmisten Avatar
    Karen Edmisten

    I took the “you” at the end to be a writer — writers from time immemorial, scribbling away, alone, in the company of candlelight. Writers try to put “wordless desire” into words. But there’s so much to dig into here! Thanks for sharing this one, Susan. I don’t think I’ve read Dungy before!

    Like

    Reply
    1. Susan.Thomsen Avatar
      Susan.Thomsen

      I like that interpretation, Karen, and that certainly is what writers do.

      I’m hoping to get some of her books through interlibrary loan.

      Like

      Reply

Leave a reply to Sarah Tuttle Cancel reply