Carol Ann Duffy: A Special Way of Seeing

January 28, 2022January 27, 2022 ~ jama ~ 40 Comments

Enjoy this enchanting poem by former UK Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy.

THE LOOK
by Carol Ann Duffy

The heron’s the look of the river.
The moon’s the look of the night.
The sky’s the look of forever.
Snow is the look of white.

The bees are the look of the honey.
The wasp is the look of pain.
The clown is the look of funny.
Puddles are the look of rain.

The whale is the look of the ocean.
The grave is the look of the dead.
The wheel is the look of motion.
Blood is the look of red.

The rose is the look of the garden.
The girl is the look of the school.
The snake is the look of the Gorgon.
Ice is the look of cool.

The clouds are the look of the weather.
The hand is the look of the glove.
The bird is the look of the feather.
You are the look of love.

~ from The Hat (London: Faber & Faber, 2007).

I love Duffy’s line of thinking — that one thing can be emblematic of another. We see how the human mind works, making associations and connections, sometimes between the tangible and intangible.

She actually had me at the first stanza: “the sky’s the look of forever” is such a lovely way to define the infinite. Poets do love a good metaphor.

Did the final line catch you by surprise? Duffy saved her direct address, one that veers from the established syntax, to powerful effect. “You are the look of love” trumps all that came before.

With its rhyme, repetition, and parallel structure, “The Look” reads like a revelatory incantation, arousing the reader’s curiosity as the pattern is established and each line introduces another comparison. Once the narrator has you in her thrall, she reveals the most important look of all at the very end.

This poem made me think:

The poem is the look of the heart.

Though I’m not a poet, I can see that “The Look” would make an excellent mentor text. Please feel free to share any “looks” of your own in the comments. 🙂

The lovely and talented Irene Latham is hosting the Roundup at Live Your Poem. Check out the full menu of poetic goodness being shared around the blogosphere this week and have a beautiful weekend!

♥️ Self taught Irish artist Rine Philbin, whose work graces this post, has been painting since childhood. Having grown up on a farm near the sea, her art is informed by the beautiful seascapes, landscapes and woods she has known and loved all her life. She works in watercolor, acrylics, and oil. Learn more at her Official Website.

poetry friday roundup is here!

April 15, 2021April 15, 2021 ~ jama ~ 48 Comments

“Poets sing our human music for us.” ~ Carol Ann Duffy

Welcome to Poetry Friday at Alphabet Soup!

Hope you’re having a good April and enjoying National Poetry Month, whether you’re reading, writing, listening to, or discovering new poets (or all of the above). 🙂

I do love poems about poetry, and can’t think of a better time to share this favorite by former UK Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy.

I found it in her New and Collected Poems for Children (Faber & Faber, 2014), which includes some new verses along with work from four of her award-winning collections. It’s simply chock full of goodness — there’s even an alphabet poem which I should share some time.

*The Queen receives incoming Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy (July 2009).*

I find it interesting that UK Poet Laureates serve for such long terms. Although they’re now appointed to 10-year fixed terms, prior to 1999, they served for life (upon recommendation from the prime minister and approval of the sovereign).

Carol Ann’s tenure was from 2009-2019. She was the first female, the first Scot, and the first openly gay and bisexual poet to be so honored, breaking a longstanding tradition of almost 400 years! UK Poet Laureates receive an annual honorarium and a barrel of sherry. 🙂

*“Flying Kites” by Renie Britenbucher* *(2011)*

THE WORDS OF POEMS
by Carol Ann Duffy

The words of poems are nails
which tack the wind to a page,
so that the gone hour 
when your kite pulled you over the field
blows in your hair.

They’re hand-mirrors, a poem’s words,
holding the wept tears on your face,
like a purse holds small change, or the breath
that said things.

                                   They’re fishing-nets,
scooping sprats and tiddlers out of a stream
or the gleaming trout that startled the air
when you threw it back. The words of poems

are stars, dot-to-dots of the Great Bear,
the Milky Way your telescope caught; or breves
filled with the light of the full moon you saw
from your bedroom window; or little flames
like the tongues of Hallowe’en candles.

The words of poems are spells, dropping
like pennies into a wishing-well, remember
the far splash? They’re sparklers,
scrawling their silver loops and hoops
on the night, again in your gloved fist
on November the Fifth.

They’re goldfish
in their sad plastic bags at the fair,
you stood there. The words of poems
are coins in a poor man’s hat; the claws of a lost cat.
The words of poems are who you were.

Now, please leave your links with the dashing Mr. Linky below. Enjoy gallivanting from blog to blog, reading the many words of poems being shared this week. Thank you for joining us and have a nice weekend. You can find the NPM Kidlitosphere Roundup at Susan Bruck’s Soul Blossom Living.

friday feast: ♥ true love in three acts ♥

February 14, 2014August 14, 2017 ~ jama ~ 87 Comments

“You must always be awaggle with love.” ~ D.H. Lawrence

~ With advance apologies to Tea S. Eliot, Elizabeth Barrett Brewing and William Shakespour.

1. To tart or not to tart, that is the question.

Reasons for not making fruit tarts:

Pesky little tart pans
Stirring vanilla cream in nippy kitchen
Finicky pastry dough
Locate pretty fruit in the dead of winter? Oh, come on.

Reasons for making fruit tarts:

Len loves them. Cornelius loves them. I love them. What person in their right mind doesn’t love them?
It’s Valentine’s Day.
Beloved blog readers might be impressed that ~~an adorable~~ a self-sacrificing writer stood in an icy kitchen for ~~hours~~ some minutes stirring, stirring the vanilla cream and whipping finicky pastry dough into shape after ~~walking~~ flying to Chile to pick fresh berries.
Good excuse to buy a new tartlet baking set.