James Arlington Wright
13 December 1927 – 25 March 1980
Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota
Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio
10 Jul 2016 03:50
I am stunned to see James Wright dislilked by readers on this site. Wright was and is one of the master American poets of the mid-twenteth century, and he can still tune and shape the aspiring would be poet's own eye, ear and vision. If folks on here confuse cheap rhymes (any fool can rhyme) , pompous language, schmaltz, and pablum-scrolls on love, loss, God, high ideals, the virtues of seeming, then Wright's mastery is not for them. I challenge the dislikers to write, say, a poem about beauty without using the word or its cousins, to convey beauty via images and word music such as that myriad beauty will be. Wright can teach you much, very much. Let they who are in despair of the all too-human-world, they who have ears to hear and heart-eyes to see nurture themselves in, with, through, for and by James Wright's quiet poetry evoking beauty/duende in all private human experience, let them remain faithful to that which he and his poems aspire to, the ineffible, the sacrelity of the mundane while enamored of a broken world continually astonished before and after the rain.
26 May 2012 08:34
Sensitive Poet of Love and loneliness.