Real Poetry

reviews, tips, and personal/local writing

Archive for the tag “Roethke”

Theodore Roethke – “The Waking”

That’s right folks, I’m doing a second poem of the week on Roethke… and there’s nothing you can do about it. 😉

Honestly, like I said previously, I really do love Roethke’s poetry and wanted to put in at least one more of his poems this month, but I promise I’ll take a break from him next week. This poem is a villanelle, a form of poetry that I find incredibly difficult to do.

I hope everyone out there is doing amazingly well, and for those starting classes best of luck in the coming year.

Stephen R.

A dirt path through a wooded area

The Waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.

-Theodore Roethke

Theodore Roethke – “Weed Puller”

Heeelllloooooo world,

For those of you out there who know me personally, it’s no secret that one of my favorite poets is Theodore Roethke. He was one of the first poets I was introduced to outside of the usual Shakespeare/High School English poets. Thus, the collected poems of Roethke was the first book of poetry I ever purchased. I couldn’t recommend this collection of poems more highly.

Anyway, the poem I’m sharing here really encapsulates the style and strength of image that I always find when reading through his work. I also happened to spend a few hours the other day out weeding the garden, so I had it on my mind. I hope you all enjoy.

Stephen R.

Weeds under trees

Weed Puller

Under the concrete benches,
Hacking at black hairy roots,-
Those lewd monkey-tails hanging from drainholes,-
Digging into the soft rubble underneath,
Webs and weeds,
Grubs and snails and sharp sticks,
Or yanking tough fern-shapes,
Coiled green and thick, like dripping smilax,
Tugging all day at perverse life:
The indignity of it!-
With everything blooming above me,
Lilies, pale-pink cyclamen, roses,
Whole fields lovely and inviolate,-
Me down in that fetor of weeds,
Crawling on all fours,
Alive, in a slippery grave.

– Theodore Roethke

Post Navigation