Category Archives: poem

BOOKS: “Color” by Countee Cullen

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Color (AmazonClassics Edition)Color by Countee Cullen
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Available on Project Gutenberg

This excellent collection of lyric poetry is by one of the greats of the Harlem Rennaissance. The poems include a range of forms and sizes from single quatrain epitaphs to poems of several pages, with those in between (including a number of sonnets) being most common. Like Dickinson, Cullen had a fondness for common meter (a.k.a. hymn meter,) and it is prevalent throughout. The topics include serious matters, such as race and death, but there is no lack of whimsicality within these pages.

The book is divided into four sections: “Color,” “Epitaphs,” “For Love’s Sake,” and “Varia.” The first is the most serious of tone. (Interestingly, the epitaphs and other poems on death often take a lighthearted, even humorous, tone.)

I’d highly recommend this collection for poetry readers. It’s fun to read, and the poems are skillfully crafted.

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“The Wise” by Countee Cullen [w/ Audio]

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(For Alain Loch)

Dead men are wisest, for they know
 How far the roots of flowers go,
 How long a seed must rot to grow.

Dead men alone bear frost and rain
 On throbless heart and heatless brain,
 And feel no stir of joy or pain.

Dead men alone are satiate;
 They sleep and dream and have no weight,
 To curb their rest, of love or hate.

Strange, men should flee their company,
 Or think me strange who long to be
 Wrapped in their cool immunity.

Death of a Stout Tree [Common Meter]

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Oh, those high waters are rising;
   They've spilled their banks in flood,
 Slouching toward the Tree of Life:
   Its roots immersed in mud. 

That tree is just so stout & straight --
   Unambitious of height --
 Not man nor beast could knock it down,
    Regardless of their might.

But just a long soak of its roots --
   A gift of too much good --
 And then a well-timed gust of wind
   Will turn that tree to wood.

“Forever — is composed of Nows — (690) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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Forever -- is composed of Nows --
   'Tis not a different time --
 Except for Infiniteness --
   And Latitude of Home --

From this -- experienced Here --
   Remove the Dates -- to These --
 Let Months dissolve in further Months --
   And Years -- exhale in Years --

Without Debate -- or Pause --
   Or Celebrated Days --
 No different Our Years would be
   From Anno Dominies --

Magpie [Haiku]

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the magpie walks
 with head hung low,
  fooling no one.

“Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe [w/ Audio]

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It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
 That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of Annabel Lee;
 And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
 But we loved with a love that was more than love --
   I and my Annabel Lee --
 With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
   My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
   And bore her away from me,
 To shut her up in a sepulchre
    In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
   Went envying her and me ---
 Yes! -- that was the reason (as all men know,
   In this kingdom by the sea)
 That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we --
   Of many far wiser than we --
 And neither the angels in Heaven above
   Nor the demons down under the sea
 Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
 
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
 And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
 And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
   Of my darling -- my darling -- my life and my bride,
   In her sepulchre there by the sea --
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Monsoon Break [Haiku]

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after many days 
 of dreary clouds & rain:
  blue skies!

Trick of Light [Haiku]

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in summer sun,
 some evergreens look frosted,
  as if snow-laden.

Blank Slate [Haiku]

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beyond the lone pine;
 there is only blank slate
  and vast potential.

Dog Union [Senryū]

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dogs have gathered
 in military formation;
  humans are nervous.