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Friday, 27 January 2012

What words do to me every week?

This is a brief extract from one of the several poems in The Rapids of a Great River:
Look, my bangles
Slip loose as he leaves,
Grow tight as he returns.
 Where lies the beauty, in this poem? It would be unkind to spoil a simple poem as this with an analysis.

Very recently a new friend suggested me Mary Oliver. Each of us is biased - I for example search for clever words in the poems.Or I look for spontaneity, as if in a trance. I can't exhaustively tell you what I like, but Mary Oliver didn't appeal to me even after I read her first several lines. And then suddenly somewhere in the middle she would strike you. She is probably amongst those who go through life as if everything is a miracle. She uses commonplace and common language and yet she comes up with extraordinary perspectives. To me she is a wandering mystic. To appreciate her, you would have to read her poems full - it just wouldn't suffice to quote lines from her work. I read Red Bird, Luke, Master of All Things Even Healings, There is a Place Beyond Ambition, and Lead. You could read Luke (here).

Reetika Vazirani from the previous post: You ought not read about her first, or else you would be mistaken that she is Sylvia Plath, but she is not. Her few poems that I read such as Born, Saris of Kasturiya, Radha on the tradition of writing a Shatakam and Independence are very long. I haven't read enough to say something generic about her style, but I love her. Born is (here). 

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