Thursday, April 05, 2007

this week’s (completely and totally optional) idea — all about a poet

This week’s idea has a two parts (which are both, of course, completely and totally optional):

Part I
Write a poem to, for, or about a poet.

Part II
Write a letter to a poet and then share it with the Poetry Thursday community on Thursday.


For this week's prompt I've written a letter to Robert Frost, with a cc. to my father, in the form of a poem. In addition I've incorporated the last two day's PT prompt for daily poem writting in the fashion of NaPoWriMo. (yield, broken thread). As a prelude I've prefaced my amateurish attempts with a poem by Mr. frost which much more expressively tells the story I have written about.

Mr. Frost and my father showed me that a manly man could indeed write poetry. And not be any the less for it.

A Robert Frost Poem:

An Old Man's Winter Night

All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,
So late-arising, to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man -- one man -- can't keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It's thus he does it of a winter night.

A letter to Mr. Robert Frost , a copy to my Dad.

Notes, I write notes
To myself
To remember tasks that
need doing.
To the passage of time
I yield;
Accepting the graying of
My thinning hair,
The rheumy joints slowing
My movements.

"Tis the natural order
that my physical self
deteriorate apace my years.
The psyche yet grows
Yielding , if you will,
the bounty from decades
Of learning/living.
Spewing forth poetry
and prose.

You, my mentor, my muse;
Introduced, yet again by
An elder
While you still lived and
Yourself, penned verse to
Touch my inner poet.
It was you Robert Frost
who mended the broken thread
My father and I.
My dad
Robert Ernest LaRock

by rel

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Blogger Crafty Green Poet said...

You tie so much together in this poem, excellent!

10:26 AM  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

"It was you Robert Frost
who mended the broken thread
My father and I."

Beautiful.No more words needed...

10:46 AM  
Blogger Regina Clare Jane said...

Oh, rel- your poem was truly wonderful...
I know your father and Mr. Frost would be so proud...

11:56 AM  
Blogger pepektheassassin said...

I second everything that has been said already. And your dad was a great-looking guy!

12:10 PM  
Anonymous Brian said...


Whenever I read your poems, I am reminded yet again, that there is more in common in being human, that just being bipedal.

12:16 PM  
Blogger Carmen said...

Congratulations on your award!!

12:52 PM  
Anonymous Rose Dewy Knickers said...


I love your poem and you. Thank you for your wise words. I will try, do, everything I can to be me. ;)



1:05 PM  
Blogger Churlita said...

Nice poem. I love it that you cc'ed your dad.

2:16 PM  
Blogger Marcia said...

ditto, ditto, etc... There is something both grounding and freeing in your words. CCing and posting your dad's photo added even more heart.

4:27 PM  
Blogger jellyhead said...

I love the way your poetry is always heartfelt, never pretentious.

Your father looks very dashing.

Happy Easter, Rel!

5:17 PM  
Blogger Pauline said...

"It was you Robert Frost
who mended the broken thread
My father and I. "

How eloquently and yet simply put. This was a wonderful post from beginning to end.

6:29 PM  
Blogger Michelle said...

Love the middle stanza about the see-saw between the physical and mental as you age.

6:49 PM  
Blogger Catch said...

This was truly wonderful Rel...Im sure your Father is I hope my Father smiles when I do something I know he would find pleasing or funny.

8:47 PM  
Anonymous KG said...

How wonderful and truly magical that Robert Frost brought you and your father together. The power of poetry --- this includes your heartfelt words, absolutely --- cannot be denied.

Your words make me feel at ease with life's progression. That's powerful!

8:56 PM  
Blogger PEA said...

Written so beautifully truly are an inspiration and I know your dad would be so proud. I know I'm proud of you:-) I find you look so much like your dad!! xox

7:43 AM  
Blogger Jessica said...

I love the opening stanza to this poem -- I think Frost would be a great buddy to have in middle age.

7:53 AM  
Blogger Claire said...

Wow. What a great poem - well done!


6:49 PM  
Blogger Lee said...

Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful, Rel. :)

And what a fine looking man your father was.

Have yourself and your good lady a lovely Easter. :)

1:27 AM  
Blogger Rowan said...

This is a lovely post, I love your letter to Robert Frost, I'm sure that both he and your dad would be equally delighted to receive it. I think I mentioned before what a great looking man your dad was - if I didn't write it I certainly thought it:) Happy Easter Rel!

2:55 AM  
Blogger Puss-in-Boots said...

Rel, I feel we get to know so much of your inner psyche through your poetry. I'm proud and honoured to know a man such as you, who is not afraid to show his heart to the world.

Have a wonderful Easter.


4:05 AM  
Blogger sage said...

Nicely done. Was "thin frost" also a pun? I enjoyed the photos on your previous poems too.

7:32 AM  

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