Poetry breaks silence - NashuaTelegraph.com

Poetry breaks silence - NashuaTelegraph.com:

“Out of Silence” by Pamela Harrison; David Roberts Books; 87 pages; paperback; $18.

"What I look for in poetry may not be what you look for in poetry. I want the poet to tell me a story. Because the form requires the poet to keep the story short, I want the words to be precise. The poet should help me see by using concrete images. Sound is important. Even while reading a poem silently, I want to hear its music."  Story here.

An artist’s genius seen in pictures of ‘poetry’ - BostonHerald.com

An artist’s genius seen in pictures of ‘poetry’ - BostonHerald.com:


"In the late 1930s, Detroit native Harry Callahan was working as a shipping clerk at Chrysler Corp. He picked up a camera and taught himself how to use it.

Inspired by a workshop with Ansel Adams he took in 1941, within a decade Callahan became an influential figure in American photography." Story here

Set for the weekend

Earlier this week my Poets & Writers arrived and today the Summer 2009 Crab Creek Review I ordered was in the mail box. I’m set for reading for the weekend.

 

There’s a great interview of British poet Andrew Motion linked on the Huffington Post.  Christopher Lydon says "Harrowing clarity" is Motion’s stated goal. He laughs with us about trying to write poetry that looks like water and bites like gin. Click here!

 

Technorati Tags: Poets & Writers,Crab Creek Review,Andrew Motion

Project Poetry

Stephen Burt of the Poetry Foundation writes that “Project Runway," a popular cable TV show, holds lessons for poetry critics. Burt is not alone. Ron Silliman who has been writing on poetry for years thinks the show does a better job of showing creative people “being creative” than any television show ever. While such a view is subjective, there are few people who follow the creative cultural influences around us more closely than Silliman. Read his blog for a few months and you will see he isn’t missing much that goes on.

So on a morning drive into the city, my wife and daughter in tow, the subject turns to the idea of a poetry version of the popular show. I’m doing my best impersonation of Tim Gunn, the advisor who periodically checks in with the designers to offer kudos or a bit of cautionary advice as the case may be. “Ah, what have we got going on here, a Sestina; nice job. The envoi really works!” Shannon is not exactly feeling the excitement. “What, we are going to watch, segments of people hunched over paper with a pen?” Cathy joins in the discussion, “What would they be working towards, a chap-book?” I counter, “No, it has to be better than that, a book contract with someone like Faber & Faber or Farrar Straus & Giroux. I explain the cameras can follow the poets out into the world on outings… a gallery, a music performance, a scenic stroll or urban bustle and the poet would be talking about what they are seeing and feeling – then back to their journals and laptops for rewrite after rewrite. I think they are starting to see this and Cathy says, “Oh the best part would be the emotional drama when one poet is cut from the show.” Shannon counters, “No, no… the enormous joy and relief of the family getting rid of… err, I mean seeing the poet off to compete!” I quietly think, they are so not getting this.”

A little wisdom for today...

People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and that's a mistake.   One should wish to celebrate more than one wishes to be celebrated.  
    ~ Lucille Clifton

Blind Date

Yesterday I can across a poem by a poet I’d never read before and was particularly impressed with what I read on several levels to the point I want to find out more / read more of her work. The poem by Michelle Chan Brown appears in the Missouri Review and is titled "Blind Date With My Father, 1976".

One of the things I liked about it was how rich the language seemed. It was ripe with cultural intrigue. It embodied cold war era images. She referenced literary and political people and used language that while familiar was unique… like cigarillo, spray-tan and candelabra.

The title itself is catchy and suggests a sort of creepiness that makes you want to read it although on another level you feel repelled. This is the kind of stuff that makes for good poetry. There is nothing overtly sexual here – more the tease of something off limits.

In some respects this is a period piece. It helps to have been alive and aware of the world in the seventies. Someone born in say 1979 would not likely appreciate it as much. But the poem was well written – keeps interest alive and closes with a great ending line. Read it for yourself here.

I don't doubt-

At the age of 18 all young poets are sure they will be dead at 21 - of old age. ~Marguerite Young