Poetry Question?

Question

Does anyone out there know of some poem(s) that have to do with Vermont? If so, I would really appreciate it.

Answer 1

THAT'S VERMONT
by Daniel Leavens Cady

If any stranger thinks Vermont
A place that goody-goodies haunt,
Where gusts and gales alike are sweet,
And flowers, as 'twere, pervade your feet;
Where trade is pure and undefiled
And folks are seldom rough or riled;
Where lovers stroll from knoll to knoll
And Matthew Arnold fills the soul;
Where deacons do their best to see
Nobody gets you up a tree;
Where people shrink from taking sides
And everybody, 'most, divides;
Where credit stretches out until
You "jump accounts" and pay your bill—
Jest let him move inside the state
And kinder fail to calculate;
Jest let him make a business slip,
And Boom! Bing! Bang! Wow! Wang! and Zip!

Before he knows jest where he's at
He's lost his wealth and health and hat;
His goods and merchandise are 'tached.
His headpiece and his honor scratched;
He's been so tongued and talked about
The Smart Street Church has thrown him out;
His lodge has warned him, and The Moose
Has hinted that he join The Goose;
His wife perceives the neighbors glum,
The butcher and his boy are dumb;
The hired girl declines to stay,
The dog and cat have run away;
They have it 'round his daughter, Fan,
Crocheted a scarf for Appelmann,
And that his son, by courthouse rule,
Is boarding at the Brandon school—
Let not your business footsteps trip,
Or Boom! Bing! Bang! Wow! Wang! and Zip!

But 'tisn't difficult to steer
So that these sounds avoid your ear;
I only mean and wish to say
That business goes the usual way;
Vermonters pay their debts and want
What's coming to 'em—that's Vermont;
And he whose reputat is fair,
Who lives and labors on the square,
Will find no notice on his door,
Nor hear the legal lion roar;
He'll shun the termination "or"
And cease to be a mortgagor;
He'll court that happy suffix "ee"
And make his moves as mortgagee;
He'll buy no more when paying ends
And keep his butcher, dog and friends,
He'll strike a careful, cautious clip,
Or Boom! Bing! Bang! Wow! Wang! and Zip!

Answer 2

Vermont
by Dan Chiasson

I was the west
once. I was paradise.

My beauty ruined me: the old
excuse. Perhaps

if I was rich, remote
or fine—but paradise

is always just
too close, too coarse.

Men made me;
though in memory they seem
more steel than

flesh, more copper
than intelligence or whim, ambition, will—

what makes men anyway? Always
groaning on the far end

of some lever, sharpening some blade.

If I were farther, Jupiter
or Babylon, the ocean
bottom, I

might have been a story. Stories never ruined anybody.

But paradise is always only
close enough, just

west, the next, the next, the sun
halved every evening on the same line of

the poem, the poem itself

a minute in the history of minutes. Then
decorative and north,
unstoried, white. And after that pure

thoroughfare. My signs are written twice.



Several more ...

http://www.vtliving.com/poems/

Pax - C.

Answer 3

Travel Haiku - Autumn in Vermont

Vermont Autumn
my city nerves
take a colourful rest

Autumn in Vermont
red, orange and brown
blossom over my canvas

Autumn in Vermont
red, orange and brown
trail over my canvas

Autumn in Vermont
at the art shop buying
extra orange, red, yellow oil palettes

Vermont
October 3,2006:
john tiong chunghoo
( A Malaysian Poet)

Answer 4

Here's a poem entitled Know Ye Vermont. The words are ancient, but I think it's a good poem. Hope you like it!

Know ye all men by these

Statements of truth and despair

That I

Having spent one quarter of one century

In the Great Wastes of the Western Deserts

And

Having called said deserts

"The land I live in"

Never "Home"

Never "Home"

And

Having, every day of my residence,

In said Deserts

Witnessed throughout the brown dry horizon

Nature

In all her Horrid incarnations

The law of

"Survival of the Fittest"

Practiced daily

And

Having buried many of my own

My Father of Bullets

In the "Great Las Vegas Desert"

My Mother of cancer

Also in the "Great Las Vegas Desert"

My Beloved Terri

In the "Great Phoenix Desert"

Know ye Great Deserts

that I Renounce thee

"Terrible Deserts"

And

Know ye all men, by these

Statements of Truth and hope

That never have I witnessed the

Glass waters of "Champlain"

Massage Her Shores

Nor the clouds dress

The mountains of her

"Northern Kingdom"

Nor have I heard

The raindrops enrich

The Black Dirt of Her

"Southern Kingdom"

Nor felt the snow

Tickle my Pate and Shoulder in her

"Central Kingdom"

Nor Have I tread across the borders

Into the Biblical land of

"Milk and Syrup"



Know ye Vermont by this

Statement of Finality and Hope

Know ye Vermont I'm

Coming "Home"

Coming "Home"

S.E. Sims

by Steve Sims

Answer 5

I love it. This is the final sentence from Sex Without Love by Sharon Olds which first showed me what poetry is capable of (it's a little long): they are like great runners: they know they are alone with the road surface, the cold, the wind, the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio- vascular health—just factors, like the partner in the bed, and not the truth, which is the single body alone in the universe against its own best time. Edit: and yes as Cheese Whisperer says I may not be following directions...it's close though.

Answer 6

"vermont song" is one example