Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird

Upon advice, instead of fretting about anonymous blogs and other such things that make me think dark thoughts about the world, I have decided to put up something that makes me happy.

This is my favourite poem in the world. I read it first when I was 16, in my A level English Lit class and I've really loved it ever since. I think I've quoted it at people before, but have never been able to find it online. I have, therefore, hunted out the book it is in, and am now typing it up.

( Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird )

I love the long, slow circle of it, moving from the image of a motion of motionless, of great space to another image of motionless of landscape. It is as if the entire poem could be viewed from the eye of one rapidly flying creature, flying over a series of images and glimpses of stories.

I love the shortness, the scrappiness, the way it puts so much in the hands of the reader - this poem really is about a dozen different things, and leaves my imagination bright and active.

And it features black birds. Maybe not ravens, but still...

What more could a girl want?

p.s - the user icon used here is a Quentin Blake sketch of a raven called Mortimer. I am aware it looks like a splotch with flowers, but it is the best sketch of Mortimer I could find, and as he is deeply cool, I felt I needed it in my life.

Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird

Upon advice, instead of fretting about anonymous blogs and other such things that make me think dark thoughts about the world, I have decided to put up something that makes me happy.

This is my favourite poem in the world. I read it first when I was 16, in my A level English Lit class and I've really loved it ever since. I think I've quoted it at people before, but have never been able to find it online. I have, therefore, hunted out the book it is in, and am now typing it up.

( Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird )

I love the long, slow circle of it, moving from the image of a motion of motionless, of great space to another image of motionless of landscape. It is as if the entire poem could be viewed from the eye of one rapidly flying creature, flying over a series of images and glimpses of stories.

I love the shortness, the scrappiness, the way it puts so much in the hands of the reader - this poem really is about a dozen different things, and leaves my imagination bright and active.

And it features black birds. Maybe not ravens, but still...

What more could a girl want?

p.s - the user icon used here is a Quentin Blake sketch of a raven called Mortimer. I am aware it looks like a splotch with flowers, but it is the best sketch of Mortimer I could find, and as he is deeply cool, I felt I needed it in my life.