Frost, Williams, and Sandburg

Frost

As I said in one of my discussion posts, Frost’s talent to write poetry never ceases to amaze me; however, some of his poetry seems, dare I say it, thoughtless and oversimplified. For example, his poem “The Pasture” seems too direct… almost meaningless. On a more positive note, poems such as “Mending Wall” really spark my interests and exercise my mind. “Mending Wall” focuses on the way we as people struggle to trust one another. Putting up visages, people are cordial and polite when speaking to another; however, Frost explains that everyone has his trust and privacy issues. Do distance and/or separation really make a “good neighbor” though? If you’re anything like me, you always think of a neighbor as being a confidant or a friend—someone that you can depend on when in need. In this poem, Frost speaks of a neighbor as someone selfish and sequestered. Being an only child, I can definitely understand Frost’s views on needing privacy every now and then. I am not sure that I agree with the ever-so trite saying that a good fence makes a good neighbor. I think that the masks that we shield ourselves with are what cause people to have trust issues in the first place.


Williams

Williams’ poetry focused on death and proved to be much more depressing and somber than many of Frost’s poems. His poem about burning the “Christmas greens” interested me. He compares the contrasting colors of the Christmas tree and the fire. He describes the color green representing solace and a promise of peace, while the red symbolizes violence and life. He speaks of the white ashes at the fire’s termination as being the color of rebirth. I enjoyed his description of the people feeling lost after the burning ceased. Perhaps the burning was so intense and filled them with such emotion that when it was over, they were emotionally confused. Why did it feel so right to burn the tree? Or did it even feel right?


Sandburg

Like some of Frost’s poetry, a few of Sandburg’s poems seemed oversimplified. His poem “Fog,” for example, is just way too straight forward. He uses a powerful analogy when comparing the creeping tendencies of fog to cat feet; however, the poem seems to have little to no meaning. I guess my view of the way poetry should be is slightly tainted. Reading poetry in high school and college, I have always thought of poetry as challenging to understand. I am now beginning to realize that poetry can also be about images and the simplicity of everyday life.