This month's poem, “Poetry,” by Marianne Moore, is a curious little poem. Moore wrote the first version of this poem in 1924, and then spent nearly five decades revising it, finally settling on a three-line version that she included in her 1967 volume, The Complete Poems of Marianne Moore. (You can read the two versions
“April,” wrote TS Eliot, “is the cruelest month, breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing / Memory and desire, stirring / Dull roots with spring rain.” Eliot had his own reasons for taking such a dour view of the season which poets have traditionally celebrated for its associations with fertility and new life.
Poem of the month: “Colors passing through us,” by Marge Piercy Welcome to the first session of the Afternoon Poetry Club. Valentine's Day is about to pass by this week so we're going to think about love, or rather, about love poems in this first session. Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet, And so are