Robert Francis,
one of my favorite New England poets and a contemporary of Robert Frost, wrote
that poetry was what “excited him most deeply,” but at the age of 70 he
declared that he disliked it! In the introduction to Traveling in Amherst, Richard Gillman explains that Francis
declared this antipathy for poetry because he found much of the poetry written
by his contemporaries (excepting Frost) “to be boring or baffling or both.” At
some point in Francis’s life, he concentrated on creating his own poetry rather
than being unhappy reading the work of others, and he wrote his best poems when
he entered his sixth decade.
I admire Robert
Francis’s poetry, but in antithesis to his denigration of contemporary poetry,
I find that I’m exhilarated by post modern and progressive poetry, and my
shelves have become crowded with volumes of contemporary poets.
Publisher Gary
Entsminger of Pinyon Publishing in Montrose, Colorado, has launched the work of
several distinguished contemporary poets during the last few years, and the
work of these poets have delighted and surprised me. I always try to budget for
the newest poetry books emerging from this Indie press located in a cabin in
the Rockies.
Pinyon’s latest poet,
Francine Marie Tolf, has written a volume of sharply-edged poems that might
surprise Robert Francis, if he were alive and reading, despite his avowed
dislike for contemporary poetry. Prodigal,
Tolf’s second collection of poems, is written by a poet who possesses that
which some literary critics would call “new eyes”—and she uses them to make
observations about animals, nature, even antiquity, sometimes poking fun at
herself in the manner of Charles Simic, another contemporary poet, particularly
in the prose poems that plumb her personal life; e.g., “She Only Wants to Write:”
“the thin keening of crickets this fragile
May morning, and how the breath of her cat sleeping on a pillow behind her is a
little cloud on the back of her neck. She knows if she links these two
mysteries, she’ll spin a bridge joining everything to everything, with her in
the center, swaying on rope that braids itself as she casts down words, sinking
full weight into each syllable without looking down.”
This kind of
objective/subjective poetry is difficult to achieve. It illustrates “control” accomplished
by synthesizing personal and profound in a way that changes and moves not only
the reader but the poet as well. As publisher Entsminger observes, [it is] “derived
not from cheaply won sentiment, but from an intensely personal conviction…”
Tolf achieves a
meditative effect with her compact poem entitled “Morning,” which includes a beginning
quote from Joanna Macy: “I could not cure myself of praying to a God I no
longer believed in.” The brief, incisive poem is a wry commentary on the
Jungian notion of God needing us to bring Him into the world:
“But I do believe. He
knows that.
I talk to him as I
drink coffee in the morning.
I give him angels.
When I wake in
darkness, severed
from myself and
from him,
‘he knows my
terror.
He allows me to
pray
him back into
being.”
For me, the poem
that presented an evocative mixture of mindfulness and wisdom was the title
poem of Tolf’s book, “Prodigal.” It is a blend of imagery about ordinary
landscapes of nature and human terror and extraordinary beauty that illuminates
our intimate connection with all life:
“…They remind me
how prodigal beauty is
Think of sunflower
offering themselves
at the edges of
freeways, never caring
if they’re prized.
Beauty seems the opposite
to me of evil,
which weighs
advantages expertly
and wastes nothing—
neither a mother’s
terror, not a child’s trust,
nor the gold
filings of the dead.
Beauty throws away
acres
of pear blossom and
burnished maple
season after season,
never learning
to be prudent, yet
saving my heart
again and again—
my stapled together
heart
that refuses to
remain open…”
Prodigal contains wonderful meditative
poetry that illustrates hard-won wisdom emerging from an understanding of what it is to
be a human living in the tension of a beautiful and savage world.
Francine Marie
Tolf’s poems and essays have appeared in numerous literary journals, and she
has received grants from the Minnesota State Arts Board; Barbara Deming
Memorial/Money for Women; the Loft Literary Center; and the Elizabeth George
Foundation. She has an MA from Kansas State University and an MFA from the
University of Minnesota.
Prodigal is
available from www.pinyon-publishing.com
or Pinyon Publishing, 23847 V66 Trail, Montrose, CO 81403.
1 comment:
Prodigal beauty ... wonderful
Elizabeth A. Johnson writes, in the spirit of this insight: “We have old lessons to learn from the sun, earth, and sky: how the sun gives so much away and does not ask the earth for repayment.”
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