A Little Tricycle by Lauren Hamilton
I gave the sibling assignment this week:
"A Perfect Pair.... find a piece of art and a poem that are a perfect pair. Explain why they are so perfectly matched." Silver Valley Girl is hibernating until spring so we may not hear from her until May. When RP gets out from under his teaching load I will post his.
Recently I have discovered the artwork of Lauren Hamilton. Her paintings depicts simple things such as organic salad, a scooter, and the tricycle above. I love her series with the childlike printing behind the images. Hamilton's painting and the poem are a perfect pair. It is easy to visualize the image of a kindergarten child at the beginning of this poem. As the poem progresses, a theme of what is left behind emerges. I wonder though if she is referring to what is left behind as a child or facing "the big people" as an adult. I also found Anne Sexton reading this poem which is posted below.
The Fury of Overshoes
I gave the sibling assignment this week:
"A Perfect Pair.... find a piece of art and a poem that are a perfect pair. Explain why they are so perfectly matched." Silver Valley Girl is hibernating until spring so we may not hear from her until May. When RP gets out from under his teaching load I will post his.
Recently I have discovered the artwork of Lauren Hamilton. Her paintings depicts simple things such as organic salad, a scooter, and the tricycle above. I love her series with the childlike printing behind the images. Hamilton's painting and the poem are a perfect pair. It is easy to visualize the image of a kindergarten child at the beginning of this poem. As the poem progresses, a theme of what is left behind emerges. I wonder though if she is referring to what is left behind as a child or facing "the big people" as an adult. I also found Anne Sexton reading this poem which is posted below.
The Fury of Overshoes
They sit in a row
outside the kindergarten,
black, red, brown, all
with those brass buckles.
Remember when you couldn't
buckle your own
overshoe
or tie your own
overshoe
or tie your own shoe
or cut your own meat
and the tears
running down like mud
because you fell off your
tricycle?
Remember, big fish,
when you couldn't swim
and simply slipped under
like a stone frog?
The world wasn't
yours.
It belonged to
the big people.
Under your bed
sat the wolf
and he made a shadow
when cars passed by
at night.
They made you give up
your nightlight
and your teddy
and your thumb.
Oh overshoes,
don't you
remember me,
pushing you up and down
in the winter snow?
Oh thumb,
I want a drink,
it is dark,
where are the big people,
when will I get there,
taking giant steps
all day,
each day
and thinking
nothing of it?
-Anne Sexton
Oh! Anne Sexton! She's an amazing poet! From right here in Boston!!! I always teach her when I teach American literature! My favorite is her poem "Small Wire." In fact, I'm going to go put it on my blog just for you =) Thanks for jogging my poet memory!
ReplyDeleteThanks Rondi... I went and read this poem and really liked it. You may see it here on this blog soon. I better read more of Anne Sexton's work.
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