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Thursday, July 20, 2006

Poetry in Commotion

Last night on TV, Keith Olbermann reported on an airline that was going to start selling ad space on those "puke bags" they have on airplanes. First I about cracked up over it in disbelief. Then of course I came to my senses and realized what an excellent opportunity this provided the poetry and the literary arts. I mean we could use a grant to buy exclusive ad rights and place poems on the bags and call the project. "Poetry in Commotion".

Interesting factoid - Donald Hall has neither typewriter (you remember them?) or computer in his writing room at Eagle Pond Farm.

Another writer friend of mine told me Tuesday night at a meeting that he had been reading Anne Sexton recently and realized that a lot of my poetry reminded him of hers. I don't know if I should feel flattered or dead?

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

The Good The Bad and The Ugly

KC Metro Verse met last night and the topic of discussion was good and bad poetry. For all the subjectivity required of such a discussion, it was in fact enjoyable and there were some agreements.

We did not set out to define poetry, though I was prepared with my minimal definition. We extended our discussion into the area of Garrison Keillor’s two anthologies, due to the claim to “good poetry” as part of their title.

I believe it is difficult to place a definition on what constitutes good poetry and bad poetry. Like beauty, it sort of comes down to who is the beholder. In the case of bad poetry, it seemed a lot easier to agree on what was bad. I suppose like often quoted remark about what constitutes pornography, I may not know how to explain it, but when I see it, I recognize it.

I think it is perhaps easier to say what a good poem isn’t than what it is. It isn’t rhyme at any cost. It isn’t more words than needed. It isn’t void of any literary devise. It isn’t cliché. Those elements tend to add up to a bad poem.

But what is good anyway. If I had a good day, that’s ok. Isn’t a great day superior to a good day? So while good isn’t bad, it could certainly be construed as say, just average or acceptable.

Keillor’s anthologies were written more in mind with a casual or non-poetry reader. His selections in both books (which I have read in but not through) seem to be decent. In that context, I suppose the title is quite appropriate. There are, as I recall even some exceptional poems among his selections. For Keillor to tag the title in such a way to suggest something more substantial, he might well have run the risk of scaring off many readers that are not poetry fanatics.

There is almost a whole cottage industry now of bad poetry. There very likely is an anthology out there titled The Worst of Bad Poetry.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

In Quiet Irony

It looks every bit like the start of a hot July day- bright light and contrasting shadows in the back yard. The heat has been quite mugging these past few days and if not that, then the gas prices will take you down.

Birds flutter about outside the window and land on the feeder- strategically placed close for the benefit of Abby's (the cat) entertainment. A new twist to the old adage killing two birds with one stone,we entertain the cat and feed the local birds in one act. The irony of it.

Perhaps on this Sunday morning, with the lazy summer backdrop, it should be hard to think about troubles and misfortunes of others halfway around the world, but I do.

Maybe it is the quiet that allows my mind to wander far off to the middle-east and families in Israel and Lebanon, what it must be like to sit in the quiet and wait for missile or bomb to interrupt it. All of this over what? How different would these two fathers be- (one Israeli the other Lebanese) in their basic wants, needs and wishes for their families? Then my thoughts return to the irony of the cat in the window and the birds at the feeder.

Friday, July 14, 2006

She Wore

She Wore

the light of day
a crinkled giftwrap
around her waist
that curved off into the sunset

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Worst Biking Hangover

My youngest daughter is visiting her sister and sent me this picture yesterday. Meghan as some readers will know from past blog posts is into road bike racing. She took her bike along on the trip and Tuesday road in the mountains with some other cyclists. This is Camelback Mountain which is where she rode.

Yesterday she called me late into the day... She had just got up (and sounded like it too). When she told me she had the "worst biking hangover" I just cracked up.

The grade was pretty steep but she said the ride back down was "pretty sweet".

Yesterday would have been the day from hell. Perhaps today will not be so taxing. My mood at this point is hopeful yet somewhat overwhelmed.

AROUND THE BLOGISPHERE: Yeah Jilly - who is doing a little self promotion (here)

Christine claimed to be on 25 peeps... Is that a good thing? - though I couldn't find her ::sigh:: Maybe I looked too late.

chuckling to self as I look at some of the search keywords used to get to this site recently.....

  • a muse super hero stamp
  • list of words posterious
  • pulitzer prize michael wells * (I'm sure they were disappointed)
  • write your own super hero story
  • poets workshop complaints
  • superhero badge making sites
  • god with a small 'g' book

Worth noting - a review of a review by Levi Asher of Where Literature Lives. Asher takes on Don Chiasson for his harsh assessment of Donald Hall's book WHITE APPLES AND THE TASTE OF STONE.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Stay Tuned

Last night I read some poems by Frieda Hughes. I wish she had a lot more stuff out there because I am especially enjoying the book of her work that I am currently reading. I read and re-read each poem a couple more times (which is what I always like to do with poetry) and I appreciate the intensity of her work. It is not really at all like her mother's but at the same time she has certainly the aptitude for intensity.

The morning ride into work - listened to "Air Supply" and then NPR.

My current feeling is something close to ambivalent.

All-Star game is tonight! My plan is to watch it and root for the NL.

I have been giving a lot of thought lately to starting an online lit journal with a primary emphasis on poetry and critical review of poetry. Actually I've really gone beyond the "lot of thought" stage and I'll talk more about that in a couple of days. Stay tuned.

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Monday, July 10, 2006

Global / Isolation

All the furor over immigration (not just in the U.S. but elsewhere as well) captivated my thoughts this morning as I dropped my wife off at work and continued on to my own job. The spark I suppose came from a piece on NPR about how other countries, France and Germany are struggling with what to make of their own immigration laws. It peeked my attention that we (Americans) were not the only ones struggling along with this issue.

First of all, I suppose I sometimes forget that there are actually other places than the United States that other people would find desirable to move to. A sort of cavalier sounding view now doubt. I really don't think on my part it is really anything more than lazy thinking. Of course there are people in other parts of the world wanting out of the country they were born into and finding sanctuary in a near by country is a dream than many would like to transform into reality. For those people, the U.S. may be simply too far away to reasonably look to, or cultural or family ties may make us seem less desirable than some other location.

Why is it that we, who were once so proud of our heritage as the "melting-pot" for so rich a diversity of immigrants not find ourselves fearful of what immigration means to the future of this country?

Some in this country look at this a simply a national security matter. Many speak of security as a basis for immigration reform, but it seems to me that for the vast majority, that is only a reason of convenience. It seems less selfish to say we are simply protecting our boarders than to say that we are fearful of losing jobs, or what our society will become through the assimilation of other cultures into our own. Yet, it seems to me that an assimilation is just exactly what we are!

What appears even more fascinating to me is how fast we are becoming a global community and at the same time how quickly we seem to want and to seek isolation. Confusing you? I'll confess it confuses me.

I have a hunch that most of the people who are drawn to this blog by the nature of the poetry connection are less likely than the majority of Americans to be concerned by immigration. We are probably the people for whom "closing the boarders" is not likely the political buzz word that will get our attention in November. My hunch is that people who are into poetry are generally more open to cultural differences and do not fear the threat of assimilation.
(And you wondered how I was going to tie poetry to all this....)

Honestly, like so many of the arts, poetry goes a long way towards breaking down such barriers. It is, I believe, the openness to such artistic expression that programs us for a broad mindedness that simply will not allow room for much of the "fear" associated with other people. Is poetry then the answer to multi-national understanding? Maybe not, but it sure wouldn't hurt.



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