Let's wrap up this fun business (well, for me at any rate). I've gathered 26 poets' opening lines, a random list from A to Z, which surprise, riveting the reader to an opening, a full-frontal assault on the poetic imagination--a kind of literary "shock and awe" that doesn't leave any doubt about who is in command of the voice.
Real poetry, in other words.
It's been great. Thanks for your indulgence. The poet pictured is Arizona's Lisa Zaran.
Untermeyer
Eleven o’clock, and the curtain falls.
The cold wind tears the strands of illusion;
Voznesensky
There is Bukashkin, our neighbor,
in underpants of blotting paper,
Welch
Not yet 40, my beard is already white.
Not yet awake, my eyes are puffy and red,
Xavier
I escape the horrors of war
with a towel and a room
Yeats
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
L. Zaran
Death is not the final word.
Without ears, my father still listens,
TS
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
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