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April 16, 2009

Comments

Jared C.

I think that poetry comes from not the meaning that it is given but the meaning that we decipher from it. In this William Carlos Williams did not write from a meaning he saw an object, wheelbarrow, strawberry wrote a poem because those images are somewhat universal we all can see something or see an emotion tied to those objects.

Paul R.

I’m sending this comment to offer my opinion on the poetry of William Carlos Williams.

As I think about the poems of Mr. Williams, I’m reminded of an art class I had in 8th grade. To introduce us to a new project, my teacher showed our class a video about this man who lived in a run-down neighborhood in Detroit, one that I think had been affected by race-related rioting in the 1960’s. He decided to start up a project for children in the neighborhood by taking pieces of items thrown into trash containers, and working them into pieces of art, by either arranging them as sculpture, or taking blobs of paint and making paintings.

Many people thought that this wasn’t art, because it looked so crude. Thus started a legal battle, which pitted the man against the city of Detroit, which at one point, ordered that his artwork, which sprawled across an entire house property, be torn down. The end of the video said he’s still fighting to have his artwork kept on display.

I believe that the same principle applies to William Carlos Williams poetry. Of course it may not seem like real poetry, in comparison to some of the other poems we read in class, just like the man’s art may have not seemed like art in comparison to what we might find inside the Chicago Art Institute. But it’s a poem that came out of his head, and as such, it’s a poem indeed.

On that note, I would now like to offer tribute to Mr. William Carlos Williams by writing a poem to him:

William Carlos Williams
You wrote short poems
Simply describing a subject
And called it a poem
You are a genius.

Paul R.

I’m sending this comment to offer my opinion on the poetry of William Carlos Williams.

As I think about the poems of Mr. Williams, I’m reminded of an art class I had in 8th grade. To introduce us to a new project, my teacher showed our class a video about this man who lived in a run-down neighborhood in Detroit, one that I think had been affected by race-related rioting in the 1960’s. He decided to start up a project for children in the neighborhood by taking pieces of items thrown into trash containers, and working them into pieces of art, by either arranging them as sculpture, or taking blobs of paint and making paintings.

Many people thought that this wasn’t art, because it looked so crude. Thus started a legal battle, which pitted the man against the city of Detroit, which at one point, ordered that his artwork, which sprawled across an entire house property, be torn down. The end of the video said he’s still fighting to have his artwork kept on display.

I believe that the same principle applies to William Carlos Williams poetry. Of course it may not seem like real poetry, in comparison to some of the other poems we read in class, just like the man’s art may have not seemed like art in comparison to what we might find inside the Chicago Art Institute. But it’s a poem that came out of his head, and as such, it’s a poem indeed.

On that note, I would now like to offer tribute to Mr. William Carlos Williams by writing a poem to him:

William Carlos Williams
You wrote short poems
Simply describing a subject
And called it a poem
You are a genius.

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