A quiet day, and thankfully somewhat cooler than it has been of recent. Everyone away today leaving me with just the animals.
I've divided my time between some cleaning and reading. Occasionally I update myself on the world events on msnbc. As I have watched the mess in the Middle East get messier over the past week. I look at America with amazement of how totally impotent we have become as a result of our foreign policy. Could anyone five years ago thought we would be were we are today?
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Found A New Voice You Like Lately?
It was only one poem, but I liked it and the was is slowly turns 180 degrees. Diana Park was featured as a new voice in Tin House (vol. 7 no. 4) with her poem We're Not Farmers. Little bit of an edge to it also got my attention. Diana is an MFC candidate at Arizona State University. I'm looking forward to seeing more of her stuff.
Tags: Poetry Diana Park Tin House
Tags: Poetry Diana Park Tin House
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?
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.
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.
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
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.
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