Maxine Kumin

Maxine Kumin Poems

1. Running Away Together 4/21/2015
2. To Swim, To Believe 6/24/2015
3. The Quarrel 1/15/2016
4. After Love 1/9/2018
5. Family Reunion 1/9/2018
6. How It Is 1/9/2018
7. In the Absence of Bliss 1/9/2018
8. Last Days 1/9/2018
9. Nurture 1/9/2018
10. Spree 1/9/2018
11. Video Cuisine 1/9/2018
12. Whereof the Gift Is Small 1/9/2018
13. Where I Live 1/9/2018
14. Looking Back in My Eighty-First Year 1/9/2018
15. Jack 1/9/2018
16. Pantoum, With Swan 2/5/2015
17. The Hermit Goes Up Attic 1/20/2003
18. Sonnets Uncorseted 12/20/2014
19. Morning Swim 2/23/2015
20. In The Park 1/20/2003
21. Purgatory 1/20/2003
22. Together 2/6/2015
23. Woodchucks 1/20/2003

Comments about Maxine Kumin

  • Melinda Ballou (4/2/2018 3:46:00 PM)

    I'm looking for a poem Telling the Barn Swallow which I can't seem to find on google or in other locations...

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  • Jennifer Macleod (2/13/2018 8:47:00 PM)

    In The this poem published in book form?

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (1/24/2016 11:30:00 AM)

    from Wikipedia:

    Maxine Kumin (June 6,1925 – February 6,2014) was an American poet and author. She was appointed Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress in 1981–1982
    Born Maxine Winokur in Philadelphia, the daughter of Jewish parents, she attended a Catholic kindergarten and primary school. She received her B.A. in 1946 and her M.A. in 1948 from Radcliffe College. In June 1946 she married Victor Kumin, an engineering consultant; they have two daughters and a son. In 1957, she studied poetry with John Holmes at the Boston Center for Adult Education. There she met Anne Sexton, with whom she started a friendship that continued until Sexton's suicide in 1974. Kumin taught English from 1958 to 1961 and 1965 to 1968 at Tufts University; from 1961 to 1963 she was a scholar at the Radcliffe Institute for Independent Study. She also held appointments as a visiting lecturer and poet in residence at many American colleges and universities.

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (1/24/2016 11:30:00 AM)

    Kumin's many awards include the Eunice Tietjens Memorial Prize for Poetry (1972) , the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry (1973) for Up Country, in 1995 the Aiken Taylor Award for Modern American Poetry, the 1994 Poets' Prize (for Looking for Luck) , an American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters Award for excellence in literature (1980) , an Academy of American Poets fellowship (1986) , the 1999 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize, and six honorary degrees. In 1979, the Supersisters trading card set was produced and distributed; one of the cards featured Kumin's name and picture.[3] In 1981–1982, she served as the poetry consultant to the Library of Congress.

    Critics have compared Kumin with Elizabeth Bishop because of her meticulous observations and with Robert Frost, for she frequently devotes her attention to the rhythms of life in rural New England. She has been grouped with confessional poets such as Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath and Robert Lowell. But unlike the confessionalists, Kumin eschews high rhetoric and adopts a plain style. Throughout her career Kumin has struck a balance between her sense of life's transience and her fascination with the dense physical presence of the world around her.

  • Rochelle Cashdan (6/17/2008 1:20:00 PM)

    I looked for Maxine Kumi's poems after reading Credo and several other poems by her in No More Masks, an anthology of 20th centurywomen poets.

Best Poem of Maxine Kumin


Gassing the woodchucks didn't turn out right.
The knockout bomb from the Feed and Grain Exchange
was featured as merciful, quick at the bone
and the case we had against them was airtight,
both exits shoehorned shut with puddingstone,
but they had a sub-sub-basement out of range.

Next morning they turned up again, no worse
for the cyanide than we for our cigarettes
and state-store Scotch, all of us up to scratch.
They brought down the marigolds as a matter of course
and then took over the vegetable patch
nipping the broccoli shoots, beheading the ...

Read the full of Woodchucks

In The Park

You have forty-nine days between
death and rebirth if you're a Buddhist.
Even the smallest soul could swim
the English Channel in that time
or climb, like a ten-month-old child,
every step of the Washington Monument
to travel across, up, down, over or through
--you won't know till you get there which to do.

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