#luisaigloria

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2 Poems

The most difficult part of this midterm exam, is the challenge of choosing the right poems. To do this, one has to familiarize oneself of the many works of the selected poets. That’s a lot of many reading hours. What I did was to make my first reading a pleasurable one, and reading them all over again in a more critical way. In other words, the poems were read twice. First, reading for pleasure and second reading for critique.  

The second challenge for me was finding two poems that would have the same theme at least. I’m fascinated with nature, particularly with bodies of water; oceans, streams, brooks, lakes, etc. Or maybe a theme on a particular plant, the most common are trees and a certain flowers. I guess it’s because I’m a huge fan of landscape-natural arts. I find natural landscape relaxing and almost meditating in a way, they give some sort of a perfect bliss. Whether the landscape was beautifully interpreted by words, or by beautifully copied by an artistic hand through painting, or perfectly captured by the lens of a camera. With this subject in mind it was very difficult to decide since there are number of poems with this subject. And for this subject at least I was able to narrow down the number of poets I will be checking on. Another theme in mind is family members, particularly fathers. Like many daughters I’ve had a special relationship with my father (we would be remembering his passing away 5 years ago at the end of this month). And all these years like all children (those inclined to writing at least), have had written poems about their Dads in their diaries. Themes would vary from admiration, to hatred, to love and to lost time. Fathers as the subject of the poems, was very easy to research and I was able to narrow down the number of poets and poems to four.  

To finally lessen my misery of finding the poems for this midterm, I took into consideration my proposed thesis for my master’s “Translation of Ibaloi Myth and Folklore”. Maria Luisa Carino, who are now more known as Luisa Igloria, who also had published under the name, Maria Luisa Aguilar (her maiden name) being my main source for my thesis should be my best choice of the poems. Both subjects I had in mind (nature and fathers) are in her list of poems. Ms. Luisa Igloria, an Ibaloi and a Literary icon, would be my main source of information of my “would be” thesis. She had translated Ibaloi short stories (mostly oral tradition). I think it would be best fitting that I choose from her list of poems.  

Sylvia Plath on the other hand had been one of my all time favorite poets. Her writings are a contrast of beautifully - gloomy, serenely - frank, devilishly - angelic, grimely – sweet. She has the power to make simple things like (mushroom, trees, contusions) into a wondrous world of poetry. Her anger, her loneliness, her pains are obviously in her writings in a way that she seems to be hiding away those emotions. If she were alive today she would be the perfect female rock star, in a higher pedestal than Madonna, Tina Turner, or Beyonce’. Reading her poems have passed her life time, her writings are today’s modern woman. Angry yet sweet; depressed in the happy – busy world of MTVs, malling and World Wide Web; observant of things when everyone seems not to care. She too has poems with the subject of my choice. The most notable is her poem of her father. But for me I think is too grime.  

In the end I ended up with two poems, with very much the same subject, their daughters. I personally can not relate to the feelings / emotions in the poem, for my lack of experience on the parenting side of the world. I just can’t seem to justify the respectful manner of how Igloria wrote about her father and the bastard – dark writing of Plath of her Dad. The next common grounds are the poems about their daughters.  

“Child”  

By Sylvia Plath  

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.

I want to fill it with color and ducks,

The zoo of the new 

Whose names you meditate ---

April snowdrop, Indian pipe,

Little 

Stalk without wrinkle,

Pool in which images

Should be grand and classical 

Not this troublous

Wringing of hands, this dark

Ceiling without a star.

“Child Asleep (For Jenny)”

By Luis Igloria

In the streets below,  

Two drunks, shadows plastered on the pavement  

By the yellow ooze of lights;  

Ribald laughter, and the clatter of a can  

Ripping the mauve stillness.  

Sighing, you turn,  

A mittened hand extended  

To touch the rippled surface of a dream.