My recommended poet for the week

I wanted to recommend a poet to read this week that some of you may not be familiar with.  I always enjoy it when someone else pointed me in the direction of a poet that is new to me. If their writing hits the spot with me it’s like finding a four leaf clover or a great Chardonnay that is new  to me.
I’ve read Cecilia Woloch and I love the genuine nature of her writing. You get the impression that she confronts herself when she writes and I feel this allows her the write from a read position of strength.  Her book Late is among my favorite of contemporary poets and while I’ve not yet purchased a copy of her newest book Carpathia, there are two poems in particular that I’ve read that confirm for me this book too is going the be a keeper.
Fireflies which can be found here is a recitation of vices that anyone could get snared by and say, “that’s me!”  I love the admissions of among other things,
“driving too fast and not being Buddhist
enough to let insects live in my house”
In the title poem Carpathia, which can be found here,  Cecilia has a tremendous knack for interweaving history with the contemporary.   Her poetic voice in this poem spans a wide range.  She’s like singer hitting notes octaves apart!

Technorati Tags: Cecilia Woloch,Late,Carpathia,Fireflies

And my voice changed

 

I’ve been looking forward to the Elton John-Billy Joel concert at the Sprint Center in Kansas City on December 1st but learned it’s been postponed till February. [insert sigh here]  On a positive note, my tickets for the Kansas City Symphony’s production of Handel's Messiah with 250 voice choral accompaniment arrived in the mail yesterday!  To this day I get chills down my neck when I hear the Hallelujah Chorus.  Going back to grade school, we would sing this in Choir.  I recall the stories – and there are many, of King George standing at the beginning of this chorus, thereby causing everyone else to stand, and how this tradition has lived for the hundreds of years since.

The funny thing about my memory of this was that my voice was high then and I was placed in the choir section with the older girls [mostly 7th and 8th graders] singing soprano. They were forever teasing me and making me blush. I became like some kind of mascot to them. The choir director [I bet most grade schools have had this position cut from their budgets long ago] preferred the term descants to soprano, or at least used it as often if not more. As a mousy little kid who hears thing but didn't always get them, I for years though she had called us “desk hands” and could never find anyone who knew what the hell I was talking about. It’s funny how such things come about and decades later you realize why no one knew what you were talking about. It’s like a light comes on and “well duh” it wasn’t desk hand! Oh, and my voice changed!

Technorati Tags: Elton John,Billy Jole,Handel's Messiah

photo credit: Michael A. Wells

Journal bits

Haven’t don this for a while. From the pages of my journal…

• Noted quote - “Some ghosts are women, neither abstract nor pale, their breasts are as limp as killed fish.” ~ Annie Sexton
• sometimes we are as much alike as we are different… separated by a difference / of views smacked down on the table / one hand a royal-flush / the other unworthy of mention here.
• One woman nurses the masses / and breaks bread to disperse. / Another swears by formula, / their are no expiration dates / on breasts but we know them  / to have an end life.
• Toy soldiers are always frozen / in some conscripted position.
• Chunks of sky fall/ beneath the urban path / of the Action News helicopter / but go unnoticed below.

Technorati Tags: Journal Bits,Anne Sexton

I like it when good things happen to poets who deserve it!

 

Congratulations Ivy Alvarez on your Pushcart Nomination! Way to go!

Technorati Tags: Puschcart Nomination,Ivy Alvarez

The Final Poem - by Andree Chedid

I selected a poem by Andree Chedid that I like to feature here today -  click on the link   The Final Poem

Flarf Collective goes public

This captured my attention today...

Just last week, the Flarf Collective made its long-exclusive listserv public, welcoming poets who use material from people's Facebook status, search histories and chat room discourse, techniques that have also become known as flarf. [Story here]

Retreat of sorts

Dog sitting for my son this weekend. It’s become a mini writing retreat of sorts.  I’ve stayed off TV – so I’ve not had that distraction. Also worked on some “office work” and in-between took our sick car to the shop for which the issue remains unresolved. 

In terms of writing, I’ve done some on my laptop and some in my journal. It helped to brake up things to give my eyes a change of focus. By late last night my eyes were pretty fuzzy and my head spinning. I did ultimately unwind listening to some music from Yusef Islam a.k.a. Cat Stevens. Some of his music is especially comforting like the denim jeans he sings of in Oh Very Young.

One of the neat things about writing this weekend is that I started with an epigraph from Anne Sexton and was able to write for a while and hit a wall.  I stopped for a while and read some of her work just to get my mind to move beyond where I was.  Later I was able to go back and successfully write more. Not from the original draft but with a new slant from the epigraph. Again I hit a wall, but I have parts of the two different drafts that have portions that show promise and will at some point I am confident prove useful. Then later this morning – another whole draft – this one the process has reached conclusion. It’s very workable and I already know some changes I will make; tighten it up and work on line breaks and toy with the stanzas trying to get the best flow from it and improve it lyrically. This one has a broadly political / philosophical tone and these are so hard to do without preaching. This will not be preachy.

That is my roundup for the weekend. I’m going to stop now and write a bit longer and head to bed. Morning comes soon.

Technorati Tags: writing weekend