Sweet and Wild and Sure
From Tom Clark's Junkets on a Sad Planet, his lovely meditation on the life of Keats. Wonderful companion read to Devil Mood's recommendation of Jude Morgan's Passion.
Digressive
I strolled the Heath with gentle Coleridge
that archangel now a little damaged,
greying, shaky, wandering, rolling-eyed,
yet still air-floating, shadow-loving:
we spoke of nightingales, nymphs
who live beneath the ocean, dark,
far metaphysics, stars,
monsters, the kraken, ghost stories,
and how the mind keeps on
going, discharging into wordless
depths of feeling the wreath'd
trellis of a working brain
even when the lights are out,
the eyes closed, and the river
of the dream starts flowing
sweet and wild and sure in language strange
4 Comments:
Not just a wonderful companion read to Jude Morgan's Passion (which I'm looking for this very moment on amazon), but a beautiful stand-alone read as well. Thanks for posting this bit... could bestir me to attempt something besides my usual thrillers and romantic comedies.
anno: Glad you enjoyed the poem. Tom Clark is quite an amazingly prolific poet and chronicler, a cult hero to those who know him (he was my own poetry teacher's teacher out in San Francisco), but still not one of the "marquee" names (as if that meant anything at all). His Keats book is a lush feast, a haunting feast, a heartbreaking feast: I marvel and weep every time I dip into it: I would feel my writing life complete to write such a book.
My own teacher, Hoa Nguyen, is worth seeking out herself (plenty to find online), both for her poetry and her wonderful articulations about her process. I worked with her for a couple of years, back in 1998 and 1999.
He was my teacher in grad school (New College, now defunct), and he made Keats incredibly alive and managed to convey sooo much in his lectures...
a wonderful man, gifted writer and scholar beyond measure, I wonder how he is doing.
THanks for unearthing this!
Maria: I assume you mean Tom Clark (though it seems Mr. Morgan could fit the bill, too); in all I've read of TC's, he seems a lost (well, not lost, but under-appreciated) treasure, like some lost archive for us all. He was so channeling Keats in Junkets.
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