Changeling Poems That Mimic Or React to Poets of Influence by Drew Mazur

Changeling Poems that mimic or react to poets of influence By Drew Mazur Thesis Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for a Degree in Writing Creative Option May 7, 2013 Thesis Advisor: Prof. Vastola Abstract This collection is composed of poems that convey the style and forms of selected poets. Presented is a short introduction for each poet, and poems (in bold) written by these poets next to my poems that react to these poems, borrow some aspect of the poem‟s form, or both. Some cited poems are just a section of the poem. Additional poems presented without a poet‟s original poem only mimic their style, and have little or no connection to a specific poem. Poems are separated by titles, or numerically. For words or names with the symbol °, refer to the notes. 2 Table of Contents Emily Dickinson – introduction…………………………………………………4 Marilyn Chin - introduction……………………………………………………15 Mary Oliver - introduction…………………………………………………….26 Wisława Szymborska - introduction…………………………………………..32 Notes……………………………………………………………………………..39 Cited Works…………………………………………………………………….40 3 Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886) Dickinson was an American poet born in Amherst, Massachusetts. Introverted, Dickinson was considered ahead of her time, having an unconventional use of capitalization, and an extensive use of hyphenation and slant rhymes. She was, in her lifetime, influenced by the likes of William Wordsworth, William Shakespeare and Ralph Waldo Emerson. She passed away from kidney failure. Despite the fact that she had made a promise to burn her poetry, her works became recognized after her lifetime. 4 (1) She, her Cigarette – in May – Nicotine tongue – in December – That response – nine months late – Laugh not for my Ears – Her God, Composer – Regina Spektor° – My Exile – from Milford – My Envy – Her forgotten Pledge – My Buddha – a Fab – She, a Downfall – sweetest Epiphany – All this Blood for her – Grace – Perpetuity has no Regrets – And neither do I. 5 He found my Being – set it up – (2) He dissipated your Name – deceived it Adjusted it to place – Wrapped it in a bow Then carved his name – upon it – Signed the Card – with his Lover‟s tag – And bade it to the East Sent it to the Sprite Be faithful – in his absence – Do not be faithful – He is absent – And he would come again – He drifted away on his own Vanity – With Equipage of Amber – A Vehicle of Impudence – That time - to take it Home – Remember that Time – it lapses – -Emily Dickinson 6 (3) I cannot bear – this Émigré – For the rest of your Time – A Light made White Noise – The Eye – which sits in Memory – Make me your – Epilogue – It was always there for you – For the coming Show – Now it is your Disease – It does not fade – That – It loves to reminisce – Which is made of Smoke – In your Stress – in your – It haunts You – A ghost – Madness – which has not come – In a living Being – And may never come to pass – Taken from Grace – Molded in your – Disdain – (4) You are immune to Pleasure – Marking the Walls – You allow it to transpire – No Paint can bring closure – In the Echoes of your books- Which do not translate – 7 She sights a Bird – she chuckles – (5) She sights a Martyr – she chuckles – She flattens – then she crawls – She stares – then she lingers – She runs without the look of feet – She monitors that passing hour – Her eyes increase to Balls – It has nothing else to offer – Her Jaws stir – twitching – hungry – The Lemon, so acidic – unripe – Her Teeth can hardly stand – Chapped lips will not agree – She leaps, but Robin leaped the first – Ah, but they will try to speak – Ah, Pussy, of the Sand, What Recklessness this produces – The Hopes so juicy ripening – A passing Rhapsody – from Windows – You almost bathed your Tongue – Which will not close for the Martyr – When Bliss disclosed a hundred Toes – They will descend into Ignorance – And fled with every one – Our little Tragedy – -Emily Dickinson 8 (6) A Bird – feathered in Silk – (7) Birds bring Music – Owls – These are the Ruminations Bring Night – Of a prince looking for Universes The Snake brings an Apple – So he knows his is not worth – For perverted Delight – Governing with Fists – They will never listen to Fantasy A Squirrel brings just – They will never read words in Bark Whatever it finds – And that is why they are – The Chipmunk says he Must – Of their own Ephemerality – Raid a rock wall‟s Cell – 9 Bee! I'm expecting you! (8) Spring! I‟m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday Was telling a friend To Somebody you know Wrapped in twenty layers That you were due – Winter has lost its Groove – The Frogs got Home last Week – No one is home – when – Are settled, and at work – I knock on a Seashell – Birds, mostly back – This Shore is surely waiting – The Clover warm and thick – For more Glass to confiscate – You'll get my Letter by You‟ll get served by Pigeon The seventeenth; Reply On the eighth; just Or better, be with me – Thought you should know – Yours, Fly. Yours truly, a Seagull. -Emily Dickinson 10 (9) Philosophy – (10) Chivalry is found – in Masonry – Her Practice Where Art and yard Design mate – Not Lobotomy And the Flowers will return – When your silly Hat is retired – But Phlebotomy If my exam were this Tuesday Sorry about the Lilies – Yours was – four Score ago They were bought in five Seconds – They wrapped Them nicely – at least – Right next to the coffee Shop For your high school Prom – Where we made Latex Into Immorality. (11) “Nature” is a Conspiracy – It was made up in a Cuckoo‟s Nest – They discussed Economics – As if it were the original Religion – 11 The Moon upon her fluent Route (12) The Sun burning her wealthy Fields Defiant of a Road – In Absence of the Storm – The Star’s Etruscan Argument A Flare‟s Phonetic Rendering Substantiate a God – Ferments estival Wine – If Aims impel these Astral Ones If Love depraves the Solid Stones The ones allowed to know The mountain Rock that wears Know that which makes them as forgot Believe in its aesthetic Poise As Dawn forgets them – now – As night cocooned them – once – -Emily Dickinson 12 Just Once! Oh least Request! (13) Always! Without Patience! Could Adamant refuse The Adamant are false, refusing So small a Grace The smallest Grace. So scanty put, True, Modesty veils Such agonizing terms? All terms overlooked. Would not a God of Flint Their God, is he Be conscious of a sigh Their only Flint As down His Heaven dropt remote For forgiving an Earth, Heavenly, “Just Once” Sweet Deity? “For Always” in Tryst? -Emily Dickinson 13 How soft a Caterpillar steps – (14) How loud a Car approaches – I find one on my Hand I see one on the Artery From such a velvet world it comes With such a sheering pain – it rides – Such plushes at command Such ignorance of night‟s command Its soundless travels just arrest Its preaching crusade to arrest My slow – terrestrial eye This lost – illicit saint Intent upon its own career Refrained from dreaming by a wolf What use has it for me – Where will he take his kill – -Emily Dickinson 14 Marilyn Chin (1955 –) Marilyn Chin is a Chinese-American poet. Her poetry often mixes her Chinese roots with American culture. It is contemporary in its conversational tone, yet recalls Li Po and even Emily Dickinson. She is the author of “The Phoenix Gone, The Terrace Empty”, “Dwarf Bamboo” and “Rhapsody in Plain Yellow.” She teaches at San Diego State University. In the late 1970s, she was a translator for the University of Iowa International Writing Program. She was born in Hong Kong, but raised in Portland, Oregon. 15 - School Interlude - In my rented red Miata I veered and turned I went down the road to the get a Snickers I veered and turned but couldn’t find the exit A Snickers I‟ll eat while they are fucking As they are fucking this bite I couldn’t find the exit the // rain // in // my // hair This bite will taste so fucking good -Marilyn Chin, Hospital Interlude So fucking good I will not think (section of poem) Think about their fucking Fucking good distraction I would like to eat this for // all // etern / I / t / y 16 - Where are we now? - We’re a seed on the manure, on the sole of your shoe Where are we when the gun yells victim? We’re the louse trapped in your hank of golden hair Where are we now that the Great Wall is downgraded to We’re the sliver that haunts beneath your thumbnail attraction? We’re the church mouse you scorched with a match but Where are we now that the man in the moon may not be a lived white, male Republican? -Marilyn Chin, Millenium, Six Songs Where will we be when the hsieh° return? (section of poem) Where are we going? Jersey? Where are we going to stop for a bathroom? Where did she give up her body to the guitarist from – that band? Where are we now? 17 The dog is barking at the door - Soup Bowl - “Daddy crashed the car” “Hush, kids, go to your room He eats the recommended dish. Don’t come out until it’s over” “When did they start selling this shit?” -Marilyn Chin, Variations on an Ancient Theme: When they finished their meal, they thanked the waitress The Drunken Husband (section of poem) “Nice piece of ass” Now we have to go with him to review paperwork It never ends, does it? They televise the president. “Fucking socialist. I hate that fascist.” Fascists are not socialists.

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