The Poem of Address
What speaks in the poem is not the "I" of the poet, but the presence within, perhaps comprised of a secret self (or many all at once), the consciousness that has been with us, growing into the world and becoming aware from our beginning, from "first light." The corollary of this is the mystery of the one to whom the poem speaks, the one addressed, which can be the soul of the presence within, its own secret being (listening), or a mysterious presence imagined as outside ourselves, an other to whom we speak, to whom we confide, or it is another being in the world whom we know, whom we remember--a father, a mother, a grandparent, a lover. The addressee to whom we speak may be living or dead, real or imagined, known or unknown. Epistolary poems (poems in the form of letters) are a species of the poem of address, as is prosopoeia, a Greek term for an address given by an imaginary or absent person (who is, in fact, addressing us). If you choose this prompt, you will be composing your own poem of address. It is helpful to begin with an image, and perhaps then ask a question of that image--for what reason does it come to mind? To whom and I speaking? And then to begin!
What speaks in the poem is not the "I" of the poet, but the presence within, perhaps comprised of a secret self (or many all at once), the consciousness that has been with us, growing into the world and becoming aware from our beginning, from "first light." The corollary of this is the mystery of the one to whom the poem speaks, the one addressed, which can be the soul of the presence within, its own secret being (listening), or a mysterious presence imagined as outside ourselves, an other to whom we speak, to whom we confide, or it is another being in the world whom we know, whom we remember--a father, a mother, a grandparent, a lover. The addressee to whom we speak may be living or dead, real or imagined, known or unknown. Epistolary poems (poems in the form of letters) are a species of the poem of address, as is prosopoeia, a Greek term for an address given by an imaginary or absent person (who is, in fact, addressing us). If you choose this prompt, you will be composing your own poem of address. It is helpful to begin with an image, and perhaps then ask a question of that image--for what reason does it come to mind? To whom and I speaking? And then to begin!
César
Vallejo
To My Brother Miguel
Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
I remember we used to play at this hour, and mama
caressed us: "But, sons..."
Now I go hide
as before, from all evening
lectures, and I trust you not to give me away.
Through the parlor, the vestibule, the corridors.
Later, you hide, and I do not give you away.
I remember we made ourselves cry,
brother, from so much laughing.
Miguel, you went into hiding
one night in August, toward dawn,
but, instead of chuckling, you were sad.
And the twin heart of those dead evenings
grew annoyed at not finding you. And now
a shadow falls on my soul.
Listen, brother, don't be late
coming out. All right? Mama might worry.
Translated from the Spanish by Robert Bly
To My Brother Miguel
Brother, today I sit on the brick bench of the house,
where you make a bottomless emptiness.
I remember we used to play at this hour, and mama
caressed us: "But, sons..."
Now I go hide
as before, from all evening
lectures, and I trust you not to give me away.
Through the parlor, the vestibule, the corridors.
Later, you hide, and I do not give you away.
I remember we made ourselves cry,
brother, from so much laughing.
Miguel, you went into hiding
one night in August, toward dawn,
but, instead of chuckling, you were sad.
And the twin heart of those dead evenings
grew annoyed at not finding you. And now
a shadow falls on my soul.
Listen, brother, don't be late
coming out. All right? Mama might worry.
Translated from the Spanish by Robert Bly
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