Three on Thursday

I'm joining Carole and friends for Three on Thursday, today with three poetry books, a magnificent snippet, and a poem that I wish I had written for and about my husband. 

I've lost a lot of my reading focus for my usual fiction, so I decided to wander through Overdrive and check out some of the available books of poetry.

The first book I read was The Circle Game by Margaret Atwood. While I've enjoyed much of Atwood's fiction, this volume of poetry left me feeling mainly puzzled and disoriented. Many of the poems interested me, but I didn't feel that I could relate or understand. I'm fairly sure the fault lay with this reader.

The second book was Easy by Marie Ponsot. The author was described by her publisher as "graceful", and I would describe her poetry the same way. I found these poems both beautiful and accessible, especially this brilliant one entitled "Magnanimous, Magnificent", which ends with these lines:

Say you like it. Admit you've had some good luck.
Thank your friends for arriving on time. To the others,
the ones you dream of as enemies,
smile and say Thank you., and then try to mean it. 
As the music stops you'll miss its lilt.
Keep dancing, keep listening. Speak up. 
Ask for more music, more. In case you don't know,
what you want is magnificent, yours for the asking,
the rhythm of magnanimous exchange.

The last one I read was Listening Through the Bone by Willy Conley. The author is deaf, and says he doesn't "write with the ear as most poets do, but with the eye." His poetry examines life cycles, the natural world, and his experiences as a deaf individual. This volume also contains some arresting photographs. I read this one to John as it felt very personal and could have written about him. 

The Proof of the Pudding

He loved rice pudding,
especially the way his mother made it.
When he and his girlfriend got married,
his bride cooked him rice pudding.
"Nope, not like my mother's."

His wife flipped through
another cookbook and 
tried a different recipe.
"Nope, not like my mother's."

She would take her husband
out to eat at a fancy restaurant.
For dessert, she ordered him rice pudding. 
"Nope, not like my mother's."

One of her friends, a gourmet cook,
prepared an extraordinarily
irresistible rice pudding recipe
when they came over.
"Nope, not like my mother's."

One day, his wife went to the A&P
and bought ready-made rice pudding.
When he wasn't looking, 
she spooned it out in a bowl
and sprinkled on a little cinnamon. 
"Yep, just like my mother's."

Read any good poetry lately? I'd love to hear about it!

Be sure to visit Carole for more Three on Thursday thoughts.