The Weak by Greg Kuzma

The Weak

by Greg Kuzma

So much that is weak has survived

and lives out its long wondrous days

with only the least of annoyance.

The grim and holy, the loud and reckless,

pass them, making their great surface

disruptions. So much that is weak and

slight has bloomed beneath the dark brow

of the storm. Rage, rage, or whisper,

everything fades. The tall trees of the

yard, the small dry walnut shells.

This poem was first published in Poetry in May, 1974. It was later published in the chapbook, A Turning a Sequence, which was put out in 1988 by Stormline Press. That is just one of the 40+ books Kuzma has had published.

This is a very straightforward poem that gets its power in what has been observed and is being shared. The weak have long wondrous lives--those things are not just for the strong, represented in this poem first as "The grim and holy, the loud and reckless" and later as "the tall trees of the yard." And like many poets, Kuzma's other point in this poem is that both the weak and the strong die. Everything ends.

In short poems that are also accessible like this, the poet needs to keep us attentive by providing numerous interesting examples. Kuzma does this, I believe. The descriptions of the people are memorable, the strong "making their great surface disruptions." (So is he saying they really do not affect much, as their noise and movement is all surface?)

Meanwhile, the weak "bloomed beneath the dark brow of the storm." Using the word bloom, which has many connotations, puts us in mind of flowers, and that is a powerful image--small flowers blooming in a storm.

Line 8 is where this poem really hits. One cannot read "rage, rage" and not think of Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle into That that Good Night." Kuzma wants us to think of that.

Thomas' poem, written for his dying father, instructs him to fight death, to not go quietly.

Kuzma, on the other hand, is more philosophical, and perhaps he is writing for a specific loved one.

Rage, rage, or whisper,

everything fades.

Loudly or quietly, in the end, we all die. My own mother went with a whisper, and my father raged. The raging was horrifying. As much as I love Dylan Thomas' poem, I am now Team Kuzma. I will happily fade, a small walnut shell.

I also love the sounds in this poem, particularly the closeness of rage and fades. They are almost slant rhymes. The words live, long, least, and loud provide some alliteration, later seen in bloomed, beneath, brow. There are also quite a few words with the letter "u" in them which I am pointing out because there are entire poems that contain no letter "u" words. Here, they are plentiful.

Kuzma's books are for sale everywhere, and are worth investing in. Your library should also have at least a few; if not, you can always request them!