Gertrude Stein

(3 February 1874 – 27 July 1946 / Allegheny, Pennsylvania)

Daughter - Poem by Gertrude Stein

Why is the world at peace.
This may astonish you a little but when you realise how
easily Mrs. Charles Bianco sells the work of American
painters to American millionaires you will recognize that
authorities are constrained to be relieved. Let me tell you a
story. A painter loved a woman. A musician did not sing.
A South African loved books. An American was a woman
and needed help. Are Americans the same as incubators.
But this is the rest of the story. He became an authority.


Comments about Daughter by Gertrude Stein

  • Sylvia Frances Chan (2/5/2018 7:45:00 AM)


    Part 3: Picasso just changed his style into cubism. I know how this portrait looked and so I know that Gertrude Stein has not a lovely face.To tell yo you that her words are lovely, my mind is too occupied. Thank you for sharing this Classic. Congratulations for her descent as the Classic Poem of the Day (yesterday tSaturday the 4th of Feb 2018) (Report) Reply

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  • Sylvia Frances Chan (2/5/2018 7:45:00 AM)


    Part 2: I know at this time she was hanging on Picasso's lips to have his paintings sold to her for her gallery.This poem resembles one of Picasso's cubistic paintings, a girl's face in this style.In this Gertrude succeeded. At the time Gertrude ordered a self portrait, (Report) Reply

  • Sylvia Frances Chan (2/5/2018 7:43:00 AM)


    IF I may say in all honesty: This narrated poem is all Gertrude Stein. It has the short cut words she is so familiar with. We, as readers must not take a brief conclusion of our own, on the contrary, this poem needs to be associated with and examined, then we know finally what she meant with her staccato rhythm. (Report) Reply

  • (2/3/2018 7:39:00 PM)


    A Gertrude is a Gertrude is a Gertrude is a Gertrude, art and commerce make for difficult bedfellows, especially in America where the latter is important to the former. I'm glad this was chosen as a poem of the day. (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (2/3/2018 7:26:00 PM)


    A novel way to present her philosophy on society issues in a catch-me-if-you-can manner. (Report) Reply

  • Savita Tyagi (2/3/2018 11:22:00 AM)


    Every thing is easy and each piece of art is worth millions when dealing with millionaires. She paints a real picture of why and how the value of something or somebody is decided. (Report) Reply

  • Ivan Brooks (2/3/2018 7:07:00 AM)


    Beautiful...Thanks for sharing Gertrude :) (Report) Reply

  • Anil Kumar Panda (2/3/2018 6:48:00 AM)


    Beautiful piece of poetry. Enjoyed. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (2/3/2018 3:38:00 AM)


    Such a great write by Gertrude Stein👍👍👍 (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (2/3/2017 9:29:00 AM)

    Love and life
    The story! Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Lantz Pierre (2/3/2017 3:04:00 AM)


    Gertrude Stein, the mother of modernism. Surrounded by painters and artists her world was a reflected world, reflected through artworks and the hard critiques they represented of the world. Reflected in her own mirror as an artist. Art, modernism especially, is always a little at war with itself. Not content to be merely pleasant and amusing it tears at the surface to see what the real firmament underneath is that supports the frills and dollar bills above. Ms. Stein was a genius of the first class. And an poet without parallel. In a few words she has painted you a picture of corruption and cooperation, of questioning and posturing, a big world made small. Of love and of rejection. It's all there. Move the mirror around, you'll see it. And so much more. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (2/3/2017 1:02:00 AM)


    Thanks for sharing......., (Report) Reply

  • (2/3/2017 12:45:00 AM)


    Fantastic imagery and tangential write. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • john tiong chunghoo (4/26/2006 1:42:00 AM)


    needs time to understand this. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: woman, work, peace, daughter, world, women



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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