Wallace Stevens: "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird"

I have always admired poet and Pulitzer Prize winner Wallace Stevens way with imagery.  One of my favorite of his poems is "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird."

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

I
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.

XII
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.

XIII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.

In this poem, Stevens demonstrates the importance and the variance of perspective.  His poem inspired my own "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Chair."

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Chair

I.

Strapped above the ground and fed.

Swaddled in a blanket red.

II.

In the homemade dirt

I kneel.

A buzzing saw,

My granddaddy’s hands,

A polished throne is born.

III.

The chair across from me is

empty.

The space you used to occupy

devoid.

IV.

Splintered and lopsided,

Destined for firewood –

Another lover’s quarrel.

V.

Skating over linoleum floors,

Racing towards the finish line.

VI.

Carry me,

I can’t go alone.

VII.

Contemplating the lightning bugs and fireflies,

A swift breeze announces a summer storm.

I slip inside,

Carrying an imprint of wooden slats on my skin.

VIII.

A place of judgment,

questioning,

condemnation.

 

IX.

The backroom of a secondhand shop –

a coat of dust obscures

golden thread and delicate carvings.

X.

The chair sits,

Bald spot polished,

Reflecting light from the table.

XI.

Heavenly seat

From which the All Mighty presides

Giving righteous induction

Into his kingdom.

XII.

Tyra Banks whispering in my ear

“Do you want to be on top?”

I doze.

XIII.

row upon row

we wait

for a final

Electrifying

experience.

What item would you look at thirteen ways?