Denise Levertov: “when that half of the world / one wants to share / stays in one's pocket...”
We begin our celebration of National Poetry Month with Denise Levertov
Welcome to National Poetry Month! In celebration, we are sharing one beloved poet a day for the month of April— a full spectrum, from iconic superstars to real-life poet friends. Where we have been granted permission, we’ll reprint a poem in full; otherwise, we’ll offer links and quotes. This adventure begins with Denise Levertov, a legend and a long-time favorite of Jenny's. (This debut post is long, but other posts may be quite short.) Thank you for joining us. Enjoy! —Brianne & Jenny
Denise Levertov announced at five years old that she would be a writer, and at twelve she wrote directly to T.S. Eliot for advice on how to do that, tucking some of her own poems into the letter. Eliot wrote back.
Precocious, perhaps? Self-assured? Regardless, it was auspicious and endearing. And how I wish I could find a copy of those letters, but, alas, all that is known is that the response was two pages long and was, Levertov said, filled with “excellent advice.” 1
Levertov was born in England in the 1920’s, but moved to America after World War II and lived in America for fifty years, until her death. Her early life in England was marked by a childhood filled with books, culture, and languages (she was essentially “home-schooled” by her Welsh mother and Russian father, with literature often read aloud in the house). She was a nurse during the war, and she fell in love with an American G.I., the writer Mitchell Goodman.
Over her decades-long career in America, Levertov won many prestigious awards and prizes, and taught at universities such as Brandeis, Tufts, and Stanford. She held ten honorary doctorates. Over the decades, her work ranged from the personal to the spiritual to the political. She was known for her political activism and participated in anti-war demonstrations.
She was also known for her exploration of form. Shortly after arriving in America, she connected with the Black Mountain Poets, a young and rising group of poet who were exploring “poetics,” or the theory of poetry. (More on that here). She also developed a creative friendship with William Carlos Williams; their letters were published in the book, The Letters of Denise Levertov and William Carlos Williams (1998), and were said to be a “seedbed of ideas about American poetry.” 2
If you want to really nerd out, you can read her 1965 essay on “organic form” here, a culmination of years of wrestling with poetics.
A handful of Levertov's books have been on my shelves for years— dog-eared, bookmarked, well-loved. Personally, I’m drawn to her poems that are more intimate and aching, tethered to the small objects of everyday life.
In “Holiday,” a long, multi-part poem, she writes about the kind of deep loneliness and deep companionship that can’t exist without each other:
It’s not that I can’t get by without you it’s just that I wasn’t lonesome before I met you.
She continues with the following metaphor, plucked straight from the simplicity of everyday life:
It’s something to do with salt losing its savor when that half of the world one wants to share stays in one’s pocket, half a crispy, delicious bacon sandwich
For years now, I’ve had the gift of this poem in my mind, reminding me that certain kinds of loneliness are a blessing, because they are the inverse of a certain kind of companionship— one that is a shared savoring of the world.
I often ask myself, “what’s in my pocket that I can share with someone?” What thought, observation, insight, or experience can I share with just the right person— someone who will hopefully appreciate its texture, its tint, its salt, its tanginess.
At the end of this long poem— which also includes scenes with a lover, a breath-in-throat-catching riff on how to love a woman, and a philosophical rumination on the “human inscape”— she ends with a subtle, almost elegiac moment, rooted in nature, as the vacation draws to a close:
There's a thistle here smells of meadowsweet-- so sweet, so meadow-fragrant among its prickles.
and then that loneliness returns:
....The sea
here is a landlocked Sound.
It says I miss you, breaking
quiet upon the dark sand.Find the full poem, “Holiday,” in the book Denise Levertov, Poems 1972-1982 (2001).
There are so many more poems of Levertov’s that are stunning, that I have carried with me in the “pockets” of my mind for years. I plan to write more about her work soon, but for now, here are two very small (but mighty!) poems to explore further. “Witness” is from the later part of her career, and “The Rights” is from the earlier part. (I could not find links for these that I was confident were used with permission, but they are popular poems.)
“Witness,” is a very short poem, often shared in mindfulness circles, and is a personal favorite. It starts with “sometimes the mountain is hidden from me” then offers the counterpoint “sometimes I am hidden from the mountain,” and maps the ways we move in and out of awareness & presence in our lives. Find it in the book Evening Train (1992).
“The Rights,” is a tiny anthem-ette for anyone who has ever longed to make (or find) a small beautiful thing— a poem, a piece of jewelry, a soup bowl— and give it to someone. (I am often asked, Why poetry? And I often answer with this poem. Don’t we all long to find small beautiful things and give them to each other?). The poem’s final lines are:
If I ever write
a poem of a certain temper
(willful, tender, evasive,
sad & rakish)
I'll give it to you.Find it in the books Here and Now (1957) or Collected Earlier Poems (1940-1960) (1979).
More, please
Read more about Denise Levertov’s life and work, along with a sampling of poems. (The Poetry Foundation)
Another excellent site for her life and work, with a sampling of poems as well. (Poets.org)
A great article about her life and death in the Seattle Times.
A video clip of a poetry reading. I would have chuckled with the crowd at the 7:16-minute mark (story starts at 6:57), if I’d been there. It is a lovely moment of humor before she reads the final poem— which explores aging and the changing (but cyclical) nature of creativity and art.
A bit archival yumminess; a photocopy of a typewritten note containing a blurb for an anthology. You can almost touch it through the screen, feel the wrinkles and the type-written surface.
Maria Popova from The Marginalian reads a poem of Levertov’s for On Being.
How about you? Did anything in this post resonate? Did you already know about Denise Levertov? Do you have a favorite poem of hers? We’d love to hear from you!
See you tomorrow with another poet!
Jenny
I love Denise Levertov and am consistently delighted the deeper I dive into her work. My favorite poem by her is “The Stricken Children” (Breathing the Water).
Thank you so much for sharing this, I clearly needed to be introduced to Levertov and will nerd out on her work and life along with you ✨💓