Maxine Kumin

Maxine Kumin Poems

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

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  • 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.

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  • 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.

    11 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • 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.

    4 person liked.
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Best Poem of Maxine Kumin


And suppose the darlings get to Mantua,
suppose they cheat the crypt, what next? Begin
with him, unshaven. Though not, I grant you, a
displeasing cockerel, there's egg yolk on his chin.
His seedy robe's aflap, he's got the rheum.
Poor dear, the cooking lard has smoked her eye.
Another Montague is in the womb
although the first babe's bottom's not yet dry.
She scrolls a weekly letter to her Nurse
who dares to send a smock through Balthasar,
and once a month, his father posts a purse.
News from Verona? Always news of war.
Such sour years it takes ...

Read the full of Purgatory


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

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