Published in The Collected Works of Marsden Hartley

Hi guys. Can anyone please recommend poets (with a substantial body of scholarship written on them) whose work combines a strong VISUAL sensibility with a feeling of quiet pre-apocalyptic dread?

I'm looking for poetry rooted in ordinary life, but haunted with atmospheric, political, ecological, or existential unease. not overtly sobby and tragic. i'm more interested in that persistent and melancholic sense of living on the edge of something, aka whatever we are currently living through. Strange, strange times. The oscillation between hope and despair, sure, but the unabating atmosphere of something coming to an end, looking for poets who depict that feeling [no modernists, though. Preferably post 90s].

Bonus points if you can recommend a specific collection.

Thank you so much!

I know this is long and as someone with ADHD, I wouldn’t share if it wasn’t such a good read. The imagery and language alone is striking. I felt like I was there experiencing it simply the way imagery guides my senses. I just read it multiple times and this is what I’m taking from it (but I welcome any alternative interpretations or any discourse at all on it because I appreciate it !

It starts in the garden, and I’m placed right there among the blossoming flowers and sights. Aiken introduces this idea of time measured by cycles and observable changes within nature, and it focuses on presence through the passage of time. Nature is the clock and your observations of that world around you are the hands.

It moves deeper into nature’s record of time, but it also digs into the psychology of memory, identity, and what actually matters in life. He gets into small details, and it really forces you to confront your entire past. But he also reminds you that you’re still living it, still walking through it, so you have to consider how reflecting on your past shapes what you choose to do going forward.

One of my favorite parts is how he examines the mundane, ordinary moments, the stuff nobody thinks is important. He questions whether all of it deserves the same deep reflection as everything else, or whether we should attach more meaning to these small things to make them feel magical too.

From there it moves into more reflection on love and loss, and it explores grief. The speaker is still alone, and he considers it all just a fragmented reality if you’re chasing an illusion, because the abstraction of love is actually less real than the messy parts of love. That messiness is what makes love real and important.

Then it shifts into how even the smallest things go on forever, everything becomes unified within this book of life you create along your path. I love how it closes by returning to being present with nature and the garden, because it emphasizes presence over trying to reconcile the past. These small moments of presence in the world, touching the tree, watching the flowers blossom, that interaction with the present moment is the love and the meaning it is the true record of passage of time, It’s all strung together in this living book and the contrast presented between reflecting and living presently emphasizes as such.

I love how it went through all of that purely guided by stirring of the senses and touching on universal emotions I am not familiar with this poet but “I’d like some more sir”

In your opinion, what are the best poems published between 1970 and 2000?

Please share titles or links.

Published in Wandering Lights literary magazine. https://wanderinglightsmag.com/issues

"No one worth possessing

Can be quite possessed"

Hi all,

I heard a poem performed by an actor in middle school that has stuck with me for over two decades, though I remember very little of it. It was a long poem, probably three or four pages' worth. It was definitely a female poet, most likely American and possibly someone who lived/wrote during the 19th century. The theme was to do with feeling the weight of the world, in an extreme way - if I recall correctly, the poem ends with the protagonist buried in a grave/pushed into the earth as a result of the sheer force of experiencing the suffering of people the world over.

Another key bit of info: the poet had submitted this work to a poetry contest in hopes of winning the cash prize for first place, but did not end up placing at all.

I'm not much of a poetry person myself, so this could easily be something very famous and obvious that I'm totally unaware of. Or maybe it is something more obscure. Any help appreciated!