quote:

The Death of a Toad
Richard Wilbur

A toad the power mower caught,
Chewed and clipped of a leg, with a hobbling hop has got
To the garden verge, and sanctuaried him
Under the cineraria leaves, in the shade
Of the ashen and heartshaped leaves, in a dim,
Low, and a final glade.

The rare original heartsblood goes,
Spends in the earthen hide, in the folds and wizenings, flows
In the gutters of the banked and staring eyes. He lies
As still as if he would return to stone,
And soundlessly attending, dies
Toward some deep monotone,

Toward misted and ebullient seas
And cooling shores, toward lost Amphibia's emperies.
Day dwindles, drowning and at length is gone
In the wide and antique eyes, which still appear
To watch, across the castrate lawn,
The haggard daylight steer.

This poem (and its poet) were brought to my attention early on in the '80s as an exemplar of bad poetry. This was before Mr Wilbur had become US Poet Laureate or been awarded the Pulitzer Prize. The poets, who exposed me to the poem, were David Bromige and a fellow whose name I've since forgotten. We were discussing, over pints of ale, traditional poetic forms and whether they were valid anymore in that day and age. Mr Wilbur is a kind of neo-formalist, writing more traditonal rhymed and metered poems. He is also a great fan of haiku. (Make of it what you will.) I've always liked this particular poem, but I may just be over-reacting to the two language poets' disdain for it and its poet.

[Corrected 'heartsbleed' to 'heartsblood'.]

This message has been edited. Last edited by: zmježd,

is this really intended as serious verse, zmj? I'd have thought it's intended as a mock-epic spoof on the stuff by Pope and others of his ilk and time. The bathetic subject - a toad minced in a lawnmower; I ask you! - was what made me think it's meant as drollery. As such, I like it. As a poem it is OK technically, but the overblown imagery is waay OTT!

is this really intended as serious verse?

Ah, the author's intention. Who knows? Well, the poem always seemed awfully serious to me. So, rhyme and meter is not enough for a text to be considered a poem? The poetic diction of epic poetry has always lent itself to parody. (Cf. the Batrachomyomachia attributed to Homer by the Romans or Pigres of Halicarnassus by the Greeks or the Macaronic works of Teofilo Folengo (Merlinus Coccajus), especially the Baldus.)

I like the last verse, but otherwise I had the same reaction that Arnie did.

Posting and reading others' limericks, though, have really made me see the differences in people's tastes. I recently posted this limerick that many thought was excellent, and to me it is awful. Poetry is very personal, and that is why some hate free verse and some love it, I think.

quote:

Originally posted by zmjezhd:
[QUOTE]The Death of a Toad
Richard Wilbur

I've always liked this particular poem, but I may just be over-reacting to the two language poets' disdain for it and its poet.

I like this poem also. I also like Pope, by the way, arnie. but I'll admit to being sentimental. When reading it I kept thinking of the baby rabbit that got under a lawnmower I was pushing. It didn't have time to hobble anywhere though -- but that's another topic.

It is also interesting, zmjezhd, how you suspect that your liking of this poem may be associated with a reaction to someone else not liking it. About 3 years ago, I thought that was why I couldn't stand Billy Collins: the guy who was pushing this "poet" on me was annoying. However, today when I read Collins, free of the need to contradict this person, I only find Collins boring, even if I assume he is writing "flash prose". I'd rather read the "free verse/flash prose" of Charles Bukowsky or Mattie Stepanek.

The limerick Kalleh showed was just cute. Being sentimental, I would have taken the opportunity with the word "break" to talk about hearts breaking rather than codes breaking.

Maybe something mushy like this:


If it's breakable, then it can break.
Though a heart breaks whenever you take
All your love far away
When "I hate you!" you say --
Our blood rushes and keeps us awake.

Delightfully enough, Wilbur has provided a detailed explanation of the how and why behind this poem, so there's no need for us to guess at his intentions. If you're interested, see this link: http://apcentral.collegeboard....rs_corner/11830.html

Good grief. So he was serious after all!

So my mower lopped limb from a toad
Which I used to compose this lim ode.
But my kids, in the grass
Found the toad. Up its ass
Placed a firework, watched it explode.

More in keeping with today's sensibilities.

Thank you for that great link, English Teacher...and welcome to our discussion board. We hope you'll stay for awhile.

One of the greatest poems written in the English language by one of the greatest American poets (future Nobel Laureate? I think he deserves the Prize). There is a typo in this poem that really SHOULD be corrected. It's "heartsblood" not "heartsbleed". What a wonderfully word-rich, beautifully and thoughtfully crafted little poem. It addresses the indifferent violence of modern suburbanity as it encroaches upon the innocence of the natural world. Pathos anyone? Published back in 1950, it is perhaps one of the earliest ecological/green poems if you will. Wordcraft, I do hope you can make that correction mentioned above.

I too assumed it to be serious, and find it to be moving, though a bit stilted.

Since I've fled an urban life and now live in exurbia, with corn and soy fields on three sides, I often encounter wildlife. I am struck by Nature's indomitability. Cockroaches thrive in cities; coyotes howl here at night. Yesterday I crushed a rabbit's skull after a dog had mauled it. Then later I spooked another rabbit from our garden - a feast the rabbit assumed was for its personal use. It will be back to share our food, and needs no invitation. The heron that plucks frogs from our man-made pond is beckoned by more than my own will.

Another point of view: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171495

Welcome, avitto! I see that z has made the change you've requested. Thanks, z!