Books litter the bed, leaves the lawn. It lightly rains. Fall has come: unpatterned, in the shedding leaves. The maples ripen. Apples come home crisp in bags. This pear tastes good. It rains lightly on the random leaf patterns. The nimbus is spread above our island. Rain lightly patters on un- shed leaves. The books of fall litter the bed.
James Schuyler (1923-1991) was an American poet associated with the New York School of poetry, which included other influential poets like Frank O'Hara and John Ashbery. Schuyler was born on November 9, 1923, in Chicago, Illinois, and he later moved to New York City, where he became an integral part of the city's vibrant literary and artistic scene.
James Schuyler struggled with mental health issues throughout his life, which often found their way into his poetry. His work has been recognized for its poignant exploration of mental illness and the fragility of the human experience.
When I watch TV news programs for a few minutes, it seems I see a lot of mental illness. I sometimes wonder about my own sanity. I think the basic definition of insanity is being out of touch with reality. Applying that to, say, America today, the home of the brave and the land of the free seems like a giant nuthouse. A southern belle I met online several years ago, and since then we have had many conversations on FB, as she has no telephone, once shared a poem that fell out of her in a dark time, which I told her today, I hoped someone read at her wake.
"Pigs In Mud"
All want the security of the well fed pig.
Horror at the baseness unrecognized.
A lifetime spent in shirt stuffing.
And pen comparison.
Is truth more palatable when honeyed?
Is a stark soulscape less so with the eyes of Monet?
May my affectations always be understood.
This poem captures the emotional resonance of October and autumn as well as any I've read. Not just a standard celebration of fall colors and cooling weather etc. but a real, deep entanglement of subjectivity and objectivity in the fact of the month's and the season's palpable experiential presence, as processed and communicated through the lens of a sensitively observant human being.