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Being Ernest
“The world breaks everyone; afterward, some are
stronger at the broken places.” --Ernest Hemingway.
During the torrents of spring,
across the river and into the trees,
always to have and have not
in our time.
Yes, there is a farewell to arms,
for whom the bell tolls,
for the old man and the sea,
and for the faithful bull;
thank God the sun also rises
on a moveable feast,
on those hills like white elephants,
on the snows of Kilimanjaro,
on the green hills of Africa,
and the garden of eden
on the islands in the stream.
On Paris,
the only thing that counts
are his 88 poems.
During the dangerous summer,
men without women,
experience death in the afternoon;
it’s winner take nothing,
always at first light.
The Ambassador,
sophisticated,
like the leeches of Minnesota.
Nick Adams can tell you
that for men at war,
there is no camping out,
not even an Indian camp.
Glenn Buttkus
spine poetics
Posted over at d'Verse Poets Pub
14 comments:
Oh I am really impressed by how you used all the Hemingway titles... (I only used one...)
Hemingway has some memorable titles, good source of found poetry.
That is incredibly Ernest! And reads so well all together like that.
Spine poetics - well done Glenn. I wouldn't have known it was a list of all his poems.
My father always refused to go camping because he said he had done enough of it in the army.
You've taken the threads and tied them together.
Well done Glen... I would not have been able to tell it from a regular poem one migh make up. You really put this together splendidly.
I like the way you’ve focused on Hemingway and interwoven your words with his titles, Glenn. The quotation is particularly apt under current circumstances.
You pull this together so well. Really clever, Glenn.
Wow! I watched an excellently made animation of The Old Man and the Sea the other day. As all the others said: splendidly pulled together.
I am a bit awestruck at your amazing homage to Hemingway. If I were younger, when one tends to look at himself in relation to others too much, I'd just give up writing poems right here and now! But, alas, I am older and can admire beauty without having to soil it with myself, to make it of myself, and can just enjoy the brilliance and still keep doing my own thing.
Bra-effing-vo!
Wow. That is an impressive poem.
I adore Ernest and so love your poem. I especially enjoyed his Nick Adams stories and so love your finale.
I tried this approach with Sherlock Holmes stories but I couldn't make it work, probably because I gave up too soon! You inspire me to go back to it.
A masterpiece of spine poetry. Loved the way you weaved his work together.
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