Your Suggestive Powers: Famous Nature Poetry

ICYMI: My last post in this series was Famous Poets’ Nature Poetry, 4: Promise of a Fruitful Plath.

Now I’d like to know what nature poets or poems you like.


CALL FOR SUGGESTIONS

I’m looking for great nature poetry to showcase in future posts of this series. I’ve been considering W.B. Yeats, Percy Shelley, Mary Oliver, Carl Sandburg, and Judith Wright, among others. BUT!

Any ideas? I’d love to see what you send.

Help shape the series! (I’m very suggestible.)

  • Diversity: So far I’ve been leaning toward all-white, western European-descendent poets. Let’s expand! I’m interested in nature verse from all over the world. *
  • Geography: Are any nature poems you like about specific places? Machu Picchu, the Everglades, the Gobi Desert, Mt. Everest, the River Nile, Natural Wonders?
  • Subject or Theme: Even if you don’t have suggestions for specific poems or poets, what subjects or themes in nature poetry would you like to read about?

I’m all for bringing recognition to poetry we think should be famous, too.

What say you?

Just comment by Monday, September 14th.

Let’s enjoy the Great Nature-Verse together.

Thanks Much!

*  Note: Poems written in or translated into English only, please.

Famous Poets’ Nature Poetry, 2: Elizabeth Bishop

American poet Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979) is one of my favorites of all time, and “The Fish” is one of my favorite poems of hers (not solely for its topic, mind you).

For my 100th post on this blog, samples of lines from “The Fish” and from her longer poem “The Moose” follow. Other great Bishop poems include, among others, “One Art” and “Filling Station.” I mentioned the latter here on Poem-in-Your-Pocket Day, 2014.

Excerpts from “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop, published in 1946:

He didn't fight. 
He hadn't fought at all. 
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. (lines 5-9)

I thought of the course white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony. (lines 27-33)

I looked into his eyes 
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed, 
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
--It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light. (lines 34-44)

the turning point:

. . . from his lower lip 
--if you could call it a lip--
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line, . . . . 
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw. . . . (lines 48-51, 61-64)

To take in more great descriptive details and find out what happens with the fish, see the whole poem.

Set in New Brunswick, Canada, here is an excerpt (lines 1-26) from “The Moose” by Elizabeth Bishop, published in 1976, thirty years after “The Fish” and three years before her passing:

From narrow provinces
of fish and bread and tea,
home of the long tides
where the bay leaves the sea
twice a day and takes
the herrings long rides, 

where if the river
enters or retreats
in a wall of brown foam
depends on if it meets
the bay coming in,
the bay not at home;

where, silted red,
sometimes the sun sets
facing a red sea,
and others, veins the flats' 
lavender, rich mud
in burning rivulets; 

on red, gravelly roads,
down rows of sugar maples,
past clapboard farmhouses
and neat, clapboard churches,
bleached, ridged as clamshells,
past twin silver birches,

through late afternoon
a bus journeys west, . . . .

When my college poetry professor first introduced us to Elizabeth Bishop, she said “The Moose” was widely agreed upon as the definitive example of her poetry. Obviously, I like it very much, too. Now that I’ve gotten you started, you have less of an excuse not to read the rest of this beautiful poem. And, yes, the travellers do encounter a moose.

A comprehensive collection of Bishop’s complete poems is available on Amazon.com.

Check out the next featured poem and poet in the series, the daffodils of Wordsworth.

And ICYMI: The start of this nature verse series consists of two posts exploring the theme of sunshine: Famous Poets’ Nature Poems, 1: Sun Spots, featuring four different poets’ work, and Famous Poets’ Nature Poems, 1a: “The Sunlight on the Garden,” with part of a poem by Louis MacNeice.

Wild Verses: Bits of Nature Poetry, 10 of 10

To conclude my Wild Verses series, I circle back to the sea again (and to a bit more coral, which appeared in the first sample of this series). “Green Turtle Picture” is an unfinished poem I first drafted in April 2009 and revised in August 2014 for writing group. This excerpt begins with stanza two and ends toward the poem’s second half.

Under water, 
a green turtle looks at the camera.

The inanimate, animal expression
accuses. The cold stare—
framed by cold, clear-blue water,
and clustered blue-green coral,
locked within the same 

space as its cold-blooded frown and 
terrible, wrinkled neck, 
its hunched, armored back 
an echo of my subluxation and chronic dorsal 
inflammation—that look, rising above 
the shadows on its flippers, belly, tail,
imposes, penetrates, disturbs. I want
 
to look away, bury 
head into body like it can,
retract the mind down 
into the heart
and let the two mingle, and educate each other. 
Give purpose 
to small humps below necks.
But I can’t. I am out in the picture 

of reality, exposed
to the danger of capture, of shocking
spotlight ogling a creature as it faces 
the unfamiliar.

copyright C. L. Tangenberg

TurtleTeeth_honeymoon_Cozumel


I hope you’ve enjoyed this 10-post showcase of my nature verse writing, begun last month. To start from the beginning, go here.

My post about Thomas Hardy’s poem “The Darkling Thrush” featured the first sample I plan to build on for a series of favorite bits of nature poetry by famous poets.

Save

Wild Verses: Bits of Nature Poetry, 9 of 10

For this bit of nature poetry, I decided to show two very different drafts of essentially the same poem side by side (or one over the other, as it were). The first draft was written in 1999, the revision finished last month.

Food for thought: Is it ever too late to revise a poem? What is lost or gained in the process?

“Hawk-side” – November 1999:

Hawks high on fences.
Hawks poised perching there.
Hawks like stoic kitten princesses,
huntresses on fences along a highway.

Looking out for morsels of mice
and sparrows.
Too many fully empty deer
there are--stuffed wholly empty.
Lying stiff, the wholly empty
deer await the hawks.

Hungry hawks find food elsewhere.
Full hawks, flecked with brown and white;
russet-brown, russet-white at the meal.

Flash of a truck, fleck of a bird,
crowning a rotten wooden fence
post, low on a highway hill.

I pass another, passenger-side,
hawk-side.

“Hawk Side” – June 2015:

Along the highway fence,
a hawk posts tall, keen 
and poised, as stoic as 
a feral kitten princess, 
knowing more, careening 
inside for hot morsels 
of mice and sparrows.

Too many deer fully empty, 
ahead. Stuffed with glass,
colliding stiff, hollowed-out 
doe and buck parts await 
the crows, and the hawks.
Ravenous hawks wrench 
food from life elsewhere.

Full hawks fleck brown and 
white. Russet brown, white-
stained-russet lines blur—
feather edges, straw bones, 
red shoulders, tails, secret 
coverts, cheeks smeared, 
blood talons, beaks dripping.

Blip of a truck, fleck of a bird,
the huntress crowns the rot of 
wooden fence posts (leaving 
carcasses for cars and crows), 
low on a highway hill. Sharp-
eyed, one passed on the right—
passenger side, hawk side.

copyright C. L. Tangenberg

Wild Verses: Bits of Nature Poetry, 8 of 10

The second half of “Taking It,” a poem about my next-door neighbor’s Siberian husky competing with birds for its food. April 2000.

That’s when the starlings surged.
She returned to find the blue bowl bluer.
She blinked and looked toward the house for help.

The birds are still hungry. And they know her limits.

Standing her ground yesterday,
baffled as the birds amassed,
the dog nibbled neurotically on the leftovers
while the starlings crushed each kernel
on the hard, paved periphery
to make it small enough.

Today, she’s almost waiting for a hungry starling kiss.
Today the husky takes it lying down.

copyright C. L. Tangenberg

Image: AKC Siberian husky breed section

Image: Siberian husky on AKC website

Wild Verses: Bits of Nature Poetry, 7 of 10

A second excerpt from the first poem of this series, the free verse piece “If I Had Known,” this stanza starts the poem. See the first sample here.

that the sea floor can be
a negative of the night sky,
each dark sea star sprinkled 
among friends in irregular constellations
on the white sand carpet, blurring black, 
fusing as one, when shadowy alien rays 
flap and glide overhead;

copyright C. L. Tangenberg

Wild Verses: Bits of Nature Poetry, 6 of 10

“Midnight Flower Tuck-In” – An excerpt plucked from the middle of this poem written summer 2013, revised April 2014:

   in daylight, 
ambula-mandible
    makes holey each 
poppy leaf,
    all coleus foliage,
this sage skirt,
    day lily limbs.

gorge and belch,
    slick and silent
            slug.

copyright C. L. Tangenberg

ICYMI – See earlier samples of my poems featured in this Wild Verses series:

  1. from “If I Had Known,” a stanza about ice and coral (free verse), 2013
  2. from untitled salamander poem set in Avignon, France (rhymed), 1998
  3. from “The Blue Jay and the Squirrel” (blank verse w/ final rhyming couplet), 1997
  4. from “Lightning Could Strike” (free verse), 2006
  5. from untitled haiku about bull sharks, written for a poetry course, 2015