Monday, April 29, 2013

Divine, Divine, Your Pillars Raise


An impossible to understand and therefore fabulous poem by R. C. Pritchett

Divine, divine, your pillars raise
For to stand ‘gainst the madd’ning craze
Of shoddy weaklings. O never
Give in. Divine dear, wroth ever
Unyielding, yet quite pleasant to
Those lowly slaves, the slaves knew:

Unmoved and great! Though they will try,
They cannot raise your pillars high,
The roof shingle that’s plain become —
Who could but a roofer handsome?

Divine, divine, your pillars raise
Lest fools your passion white may phase
Or underwhelm your pity’s power
Or clippers take to your great flower.

Never, never, you dear divine
Will we allow your name malign —
Turn noses at your pillars thin —
They’ll never, never, never win

Or begin to divine your plans,
Mighty universal dustpans,
Mysterious though they seem to be
They will remain a mystery.
Divine, divine, your pillars raise
As offer up we ceaseless praise.

Monday, April 15, 2013

I Before E

"Alright, we're going to learn a new rule. This is an easy one: I before E except after C and in the following 62 words. Let's say them together..."

absenteeism
agreeing
albeit
atheist
beige
being
caffeine
canoeing
codeine
counterfeit
deign
deity
edelweiss
eiderdown
eight
either
Fahrenheit
feign
feint
feisty
foreign
forfeit
freight
gneiss
heifer
height
heir
herein
leisure
leitmotif
Madeira
neigh
neighbor
neither
oleic
pein
plebeian
Pleiades
protein
seize
reign
rein
reinstate
reveille
seeing
sheik
skein
sleigh
sleight
sovereign
spontaneity
surfeit
surveillance
their
therein
veil
vein
weigh
weight
weir
weird
wherein

Monday, April 8, 2013

On Poetry

Written March 14, 2010

During my time preparing to take the Literature in English GRE Subject Test in November 2009 (go here and here if you're hankering to study for this mammoth exam), I was forced to take time for poetry. True, I had read a few things here and there (some of Paradise Lost, for example) and I had had the good sense to write some poetry of my own (no comment on its general quality), but it was not until fall of last year was I forced to prove whether I believed poetry was as cool as I knew it was supposed to be.

It was.

While I still struggle to read enough poetry (I already struggle to read my Bible enough!), what I have read has enriched my mind.

Poetry, like asparagus and consumer math, is one of those things that you are supposed to enjoy, but don't particularly care for. "Let the literature people read poetry. I'll just...read a fantasy novel." While there is nothing wrong with a good fantasy novel (like this one I just read), digesting such a volume barely scratches the surface of what you can glean from reading.

What is the place of poetry in the life of a believer?

As a Means of Glorifying God. This is probably the most obvious to anyone who has been in a church long enough to notice the pattern of communion services. "Of course it should glorify God," you say. "Everything should." Does this mean that all poetry written by believers should be sacred? Does every poem about my struggles need to end in a moralizing expression linked directly to a Bible verse? While there's nothing wrong with such an expression, I don't believe it to be necessary for a poem to explicitly glorify the Maker of Language for it to glorify Him at all.

We know that God is a God of order (I Corinthians 14:40). Shall the creations of our hearts and minds not reflect that order?

A greater poet than I put it well when he wrote
I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; prose—words in their best order; poetry—the best words in their best order.

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Table Talk (July 12, 1827)
One of the things that makes poetry as beautiful, as strange, as enjoyable, as disturbing, or as powerful as it is—is order.

As a Mode of Human Expression. Though you may consider the highest form of human expression to be creating new software code, I politely disagree. Poetry, to me at least, speaks more directly to and of the human condition than anything I know. As plumbing as a novel can be, there is something special about poetry that elevates it to one of the highest positions of art possible. Even poetic satires seem better than many of their prose counterparts.

I recall listening to my church's youth pastor deliver a message from a Psalm (I forget which one) where the Psalmist did not turn the initial expressions of exasperation and despair into a concluding positive message. One of the points that my friend drew out of the passage was this: God values sincere human expression. It makes sense: God loves us and understands what we are going through. Jesus Christ lived 33 years as an earthbound human being, so He would know!
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. — Hebrews 4:15 (ESV)
As a Means of Expanding your Brain. Let's face it, not all poetry is easy to understand. In point of fact, most of it will not jump off the page and decry its meaning to you and any innocent bystander.

Aside from warding off premature senility, reading poetry improves your ability to express your mind—to think! Just like knitting and playing first-person shooters, thinking is an activity which, if neglected, becomes difficult to successfully pick up on a whim. The more you do of it, the better you become.

Simply because a poem takes effort to digest does not mean that it is not worth that effort.

So next time you are assigned Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens as required reading, don't grumble. You may be able to find something interesting in a poem written by one of those Poet Individuals. Even a poem that is particularly bad may provide some instruction (i.e. what not to do).

While I do not consider myself fully initiated into the ways of poetry consumption, I do believe that poetry is worth the time. For Christians poetry is a means of glorifying God, expressing human feelings, and expanding our brains. I still have much thinking to do on this matter before I can consider my ideas on this matter fully formed, but until then, I not planning on dropping the poetic ball. Or pen.


A Few Poetry Resources:
The Art and Craft of Poetry
Poetry Writing Tips
Wikisource

Monday, April 1, 2013

The Altar by George Herbert

The Altar
by George Herbert

A broken Altar, Lord, thy servant rears,
Made of a heart, and cemented with tears:
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workman's tool hath touched the same.
A Heart alone
Is such a stone,
As nothing but
Thy pow'r doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame,
To praise thy name:
That if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
O let thy blessed Sacrifice be mine,
And sanctify this Altar to be thine.