Graduate Poems

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
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Graduation Day is the climax of a dream.
A parental dream that began when a child is born,
And their hope come true it would seem,
A triumph held after periods of forlorn,
...

I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
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The lamp of the bright life had darkened.
When my father life was taken by God.
It was the darkest moment ever
experienced by my mother and family.
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It takes a lot of a person's life
To be French, or English, or American
Or Italian. And to be at any age. To live at any certain time.
The Polish-born resident of Manhattan is not merely a representative of
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Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
Before King Oberon's bright diadem,
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A wind's word, the Hebrew Hallelujah.
I wonder they never gave it to a boy
(Hal for short) boy with wind-wild hair.
It means Praise God, as well it should since praise
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My dear father,
Who was determined to educate me well,
To the best of his ability.
Remained throughout my life,
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I can see your boarding house now,
A spacious, two-storied bungalow
That overlooked the blue-water harbour.
Your rambling house had good prospects.
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1.

I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
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On this rolling planet ever have you seen
A home so like a palace waiting for its queen? --
A dwelling place so fair,
So fill'd with treasures rare,
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Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane's
been drinking and has no idea who
this curious Andalusian is, unable
even to speak the language of poetry.
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'Happy Happy birthday lisalisa'

To the 'LOVELY,
AND MUCH RESPECTED MUSICAL LADY'
...

When earth's last thesis is copied
From the theses that went before,
When idea from fact has departed
And bare-boned factlets shall bore,
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In the grilled window overhead
Before ringing the bell
I see your face.
It is only love, nothing else.
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Where are the Poets, unto whom belong
The Olympian heights; whose singing shafts were sent
Straight to the mark, and not from bows half bent,
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Tis not from cheap thanks thinly to repay
Th' immortal grove of thy fair-order'd bay
Thou planted'st round my humble fane, that I
Stick on thy hearse this sprig of Elegie:
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Education is relevant for a person to be successful.
Education empowers a person to become a leader.
Great opportunities are presented to professionals.
The future of a Person can be unpredictable if she lacks education;
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Baptized in church in Minneapolis,
it was a special day I would not miss.
I have a photo of you and me,
we both were smiling happily.
...

far away from home eight months stay family kept at bay, anxiety gnawing the unknown beckoning blandly embarking, it's over here comes the graduate triumphant hooray, pleased with herself souriante full of joy back to mothering, culinary skills sharpened extra knowledge gained experience widened, partnership with town businessmen gave it her all, backfired ambition curbed bitter lesson moving on study hard, that small rented room haven peace of mind unfurl, Mister addressing teacher serious student to be exact, taking notes cooking lots tasting applying her unique touch, apparentship trying relationship act diplomat earned respect, withstood veteran staff behavior gruff chin up winner march, farewell party presentation pretty good cheer at training center, birthday girl let's celebrate more it's the New Year hear hear!
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when I become a graduate
all the tension of exam will be
forgotten,
for the sleepless night of no regrets, but I can't stop it, the tune of the night I can hear but can't see the flies.
...

Lee B. Mack 06 23 2019 Grace…

Who She?
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Imitation! Creative Compliment, Lacking in Originality, or Plagiarism?

This week takes me back to college days. I was taking a graduate course (as a Physics major) in 'Modern Poets' at the University of Oklahoma. Our assignment for the week was to write a poem ourselves in the style of a modern poet we had already studied. I had already been attracted to the poems of Richard Wilbur and got to hear him do a reading while I was on campus at OU. In fact, his, 'A Boy At The Window, ' remains a personal favorite to this day and reminds me a lot of Robert Frost's best work! In any case, the poem I chose of his (to 'write in the style of') was another of his famous rhymes called 'Love Calls Us To The Things Of This World.' And here it is from PoemHunter.com's library of famous poets and their poems. I only regret that PoemHunter, in spite of their many virtues, gives such short shrift to a poet's formatting which I have laboriously restored here for your enjoyment. What do you suppose it is? Is PH so soulless that they would deny you the right to see Richard Wilbur's verses flapping in the morning breeze?
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I was looking for
An intelligent graduate girl
for my son's marriage
For having brainy generation
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A computer science graduate is one
Who has no life and has no fun?
His love for programming just died
His heart at the sight of DFD's just cried
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TWAS THE LIGHT OF angel THAT SHONE UPoN
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WINGs

The cry Of thy heart doth touch my scenes,
For tis you, thy eyes that melted
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