Poetry

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    Poetry.com Poems of the Day

  • She walks in beauty

    She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or soby George Gordon, Lord Byron (Read More)

  • Love's Philosophy

    The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle— Why not I with thine? See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; Nby Percy Bysshe Shelley (Read More)

  • Of Alice in Wonderland

    A boat, beneath a sunny sky, Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July;Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear, Pleased a simple tale to hear;—Long has paled that sunny sky: Echoes fade and memories die, Autumn frosts have slain July.by Lewis Carroll (Read More)
 
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    Poetry News

  • Diyala poetry festival shows signs of peace in Iraq

    6 Nov 2009 | 11:28 pm
    Basim al-Dafaie, an Iraqi poet, was optimistic when he saw the restoration of art and poetry festival in his province of Diyala after four years of turbulence and violence.

  • Fort Hood Victims Had Different Reasons for Enlisting

    6 Nov 2009 | 4:37 pm
    The 13 people killed when an Army psychiatrist allegedly opened fire on fellow soldiers at Fort Hood, Texas, included a pregnant woman who was preparing to return home, a man who quit a furniture company job to join the military about a year ago, a newlywed who had served in Iraq and a woman who had vowed to take on Usama bin Laden after the Sept.

  • Carol Muske-Dukes: Confronting Words: Poetry Reviews

    6 Nov 2009 | 8:20 am
    The three books reviewed here are by women writers who confront the world in uncompromised fashion.

  • More than an evening of poetry

    6 Nov 2009 | 12:14 am
    The programme may have been entitled "A Poetry Evening", but the performances staged by the students of Doha College on Wednesday proved to be a cabaret-style mix of songs, music and dance as well as plenty of poetry.

  • Poetry: Mdantsane Nights - Poems of Mdantsane

    5 Nov 2009 | 4:01 pm
    Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra An orthopaedic surgeon in a busy hospital in East London, South Africa, I actually belong to Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, its long summers and hectic politics.
 
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    fait accompli

  • 29 Oct 2009 | 9:55 pm

    29 Oct 2009 | 9:55 pm
    ContradictaFeelings are the language of experience; words tell us what the world wants-and needs- from us and are maps to what we want and need from the world.* * * * *Silence in response to biting words helps make thought into a kind of music.* * * * * *Otoliths Issue 15* * * * * *Troubles Swapped for Something Fresh- sample pages (PDF)buy it fromSalt Publishing It's a great book and Salt could use the help- Let's keep this valued press alive!

  • 24 Oct 2009 | 12:00 pm

    24 Oct 2009 | 12:00 pm
    David Bromige Memorial At Poet's House, Friday October 16, 2009Ron Silliman has posted a terrific essay on David Bromige, in celebration of what would have been David's 76th birthday, here:Silliman's Blog.I understand there is more to come about David from both Ron and Bob Perelman in the Grand Piano series. This is something I am eagerly looking forward to.Here is a version of the talk I gave about David B at Poet's House:David Bromige is difficult to describe because he was a fascinating person of contrasts and complex contradictions. Solitary thinker and and social charmer, mild man and…

  • 15 Oct 2009 | 9:07 pm

    15 Oct 2009 | 9:07 pm
    Toni Simon work and interview in November issue of Poets and ArtistsPoets and Artists Nov 2009ContradictaWhat happens, I think, is that you start thinking more about credit than substance and then you are not a writer anymore, you're a promoter.* * * * *Try to remember your dreams.

  • 3 Oct 2009 | 10:03 am

    3 Oct 2009 | 10:03 am
    EOAGH 5* * * * *M.C Blakeman (San Francisco Chronicle) opines on the public (library) option (via The Casual Tee)* * * * *Wood s Lot: Raymond Federman (1928-2009)* * * * *Friday, October 9John Lennon's birthdayvia wood s lot* * * * *This is What A (Pro) Feminist [Man Poet] Looks LikeDelirious Lapel* * * * *The Only Known Video of Anne Frank

  • 22 Sep 2009 | 7:06 pm

    22 Sep 2009 | 7:06 pm
    Daniel Menaker, the now retired longtime Executive Editor-in-Chief at Random House opines on the roulette-like nature of publishing: Redactor AgonistesI'm in the middle of reading Menaker's damn good novel The Treatment (1998), so I was googling Menaker. Some of the best writing in recent years comes from publishers. I've been waiting for four years to see a new novel from Joseph Kanon, having recommended his Alibi to anyone who will listen. Those who took me up on it liked it. Menaker's The Treament has those Yates-like qualities I've been searching for lately. I sure hope Menaker is working…
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    Nina Alvarez

  • Shout out to Poetry Foundation

    phantomcity
    5 Nov 2009 | 1:20 pm
    My dear friend, Philadelphia artist Anders Hansen has generously paid for my subscription to Poetry magazine for the past two years. I often forget this, but the magazine, founded in 1912 by Harriet Monroe, has a fabulous website, complete with audio of some wonderful poems: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/journal/audiolanding.html Enjoy! Posted in words

  • My Most Recent Poem: “October”

    phantomcity
    30 Oct 2009 | 12:36 pm
    Is published in the Hugo-award-winning literary magazine Electric Velocipede. Cheers! Nina   Posted in words

  • Poem of the Day: As I Walked Out One Evening

    phantomcity
    27 Oct 2009 | 10:34 pm
    As I Walked Out One Evening As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: ‘Love has no ending. (…continue reading at Poets.org) -W.H. Auden Posted in words

  • Poem of the Day: For R, For Whatever Reason

    phantomcity
    21 Oct 2009 | 12:42 pm
    For R, For Whatever Reason Across a pond A swan came into view And dipped its head Her head, maybe your head Too low to the chest, the beak Went under the mirror I watched with you, this loop of white pierce black water, like floating in tar, but her head came up. And the world was restored. I wonder how I could have missed it. [...]

  • Poem of the Day: Be Angry at the Sun

    phantomcity
    18 Oct 2009 | 7:17 pm
    Be Angry At the Sun That public men publish falsehoods Is nothing new. That America must accept Like the historical republics corruption and empire Has been known for years. Be angry at the sun for setting If these things anger you. Watch the wheel slope and turn, They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors. This republic, Europe, Asia. (continue…) -Robinson Jeffers Posted [...]
 
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    Cosmopoetica

  • Blatant Sexism or Something Else?

    Chris
    3 Nov 2009 | 8:56 pm
    Amy King shares this press release condemning the Publisher’s Weekly 2009 Best Books list(s). You can read it and judge for yourself, but it is thought-provoking. I have a couple of thoughts: (and Amy King took great offense to this) There’s a mathematical argument being made that is much less interesting than an argument that could be made involving actual books. Saying “there should be X out of 10” (which is wholly problematic for any method of determing “X”) is much less effective than saying “here are books that should have made the list” or “here’s an alternative…

  • Jason Guriel on Johnston and Dodds

    Chris
    3 Nov 2009 | 8:23 pm
    The October 2009 issue of Poetry has a great book review by Jason Guriel, exemplifying just the kind of review I like to read: respectful, insightful, honest and entertaining. Guriel’s quite perceptive, getting to the heart of the craft of two very different poets and effectively transcending the “gimmick factor” of pairing George Johnston and Jeramy Dodds in the first place. I encourage you to read the whole thing, but here are a few choice snippets. I love that Guriel can discern the “radical” in Johnston’s relatively traditional lyric poems: So even though Johnston would seem…

  • on Art and the Sun-Like Eyes of Man (Heinrich Blücher)

    Chris
    29 Oct 2009 | 8:08 am
    [photo by Aube Insanite] “The eyes of man are sun-like, because art comes and makes them more sun-like. Art is so mighty because it changes our perception of the world. It is almost as mighty as philosophy and not nearly so harmful, because it does not ask anything of us. Art makes no request except one – to be loved – but no other request will a work of art ever make. If we love art and participate in the experience given there then our entire being will be changed, so mighty is this experience and yet so harmless.” –from the Blücher Archive

  • “It May Not Always Be So” (E. E. Cummings)

    Chris
    14 Oct 2009 | 10:38 am
    An acquaintance reminded me of another sonnet by Cummings that I like and whose lyric qualities defend it quite well from accusations of sentimentality (and, as my acquaintance noted, “lyric poetry is apt to involve sentiment, and therefore to condemn sentimentality out of hand is to discard a very large body of work in a lot of languages, IMHO unwisely.”) “it may not always be so” it may not always be so;and i say that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch another’s,and your dear strong fingers clutch his heart,as mine in time not far away; if on another’s face…

  • Happy Birthday: E. E. Cummings

    Chris
    14 Oct 2009 | 9:56 am
    [CC photo (larger view)  by Tony the Misfit] Today is the birthday of E. E. Cummings, born on this day in 1894. In a letter, Robert Lowell remarked about Cummings: “He [Cummings] is a razor-blade without the handle.” (Side note: the common belief that Cummings preferred his name to be printed in all lower-case is an enduring myth.) A friend related a sad story on a mailing list this morning. A huge fan of Cummings as a college student, this friend worked on an Honors project intending to defend Cummings’ poetry. By the time he was done, he found himself agreeing with the critics…
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    Poetmeister ...on the road to Parnassus

  • From the crypt.. mwaaaaaaaaahaha!!!!!!!

    janetleigh
    31 Oct 2009 | 2:21 am
    Halloweaned There’s nothing hallowed about this day, unless druidism is your Way? more’s the wayward mind, wide-eyed drunk, shriveled and shrunken talking heads, spiked like an olive on a tooth pick, on wrought iron will. Cats gutted & strung up charred- for the fun of it, mores lost to treatful days long past- a loaded bag thrown up on granma’s porch- a trick too common to make a stink about. By today’s standards it’s no teen with a match sans malice- it’s your 7 year old stealing daddy’s torch with a bead on your head! What used to be good old-fashioned mischief has turned…

  • Wazzup wit dat? (but no one waz kilt ;)

    janetleigh
    30 Oct 2009 | 12:30 am
    Hey! something came in kicked the tar out my sidebar. Bullets everywhere!! Tagged: blog sidebar rearranged, Jestku, long time for page to download, no one was kilt, Poetmeister

  • Poetinalia of 10.20.09

    janetleigh
    20 Oct 2009 | 11:16 pm
    My Dear Friends, Thank you for stopping by and leaving me your words of support, comfort and concern.  I’m sure you’re all getting tired of my posts, poems & poetinalia having to do with Rascal and his health problems. To tell you the truth, as an empty-nester it’s really easy to transfer all the love and concern for our own kids onto our furkids.  Of this, I am guilty.   Truth be told, the bond between me and Rascal is very strong, starting when he was barely a year old when he was bite by a poisonous snake several times on the face, neck and possibly in the mouth. …

  • Rascal, Will of Steel… \o/

    janetleigh
    28 Sep 2009 | 10:42 am
    Rascal gets his willpower ON! Dearly Beloved came through surgery just fine- tomorrow he’s home! “Thank you everyone for your prayers. They get me through iffy times. I feel your love! Your friend ’til the end.” Signed, Rascal Tagged: comes through surgery just fine, home tomorrow, Rascal-Will of Steel, sarcoma below dew claw

  • Rascal, the Irrepressible

    janetleigh
    28 Sep 2009 | 12:05 am
    Rascal tomorrow: removal of sarcoma. We pray he survives. Tagged: Poetmeister, pray his heart holds up, Rascal needs surgery; sarcoma just below dewclaw, Rascal the Irrepressible
 
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    Lorna Dee Cervantes

  • Where In the World is Lorna? Lorna Dee Cervantes Fall Poetry Readings Calendar

    6 Nov 2009 | 2:41 pm
    Lorna Dee Cervantes Readings:Nov. 6• Kickoff Extravaganza: “Mission Muralismo: The HEART of the Mission, A Celebration of Art and Community” celebrates Street Art San Francisco: Mission Muralismo, edited by Annice Jacoby with a foreword by Carlos Santana, in partnership with Precita Eyes Muralists; this will be one of the most ambitious book signing events ever hosted by the de Young, featuring many of the artists, photographers, and writers showcased in the book, with live music by Dr. Loco’s Rockin’ Jalepeño Band; poetry and performances by Lorna Dee Cervantes, Stephen Cervantes,…

  • 15 Years Ago Today...

    29 Sep 2009 | 3:31 pm
    ...my one and only baby was born. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! May all your passages be smooth.I'm back in Boulder, feeling odd and strange to be back for a few days after 2 years and a few months away. Looking at my office again, I'm trying not to feel overwhelmed at the task of moving. Just gathering my papers together will take a LONG LONG TIME. (hmm, my capital letters agree.) I might consider looking for a house swap or sublet or house-sitting situation here in Boulder while I pack.I was just going to sell things. But I still like them. Ha, well. Time to get steak and lobster. No internet at the old…

  • Susan Cervantes, Master Muralist, Gets Her Own Day In SF. Precita Eyes Muralists Desperately Need A Van!

    23 Sep 2009 | 3:54 pm
    September 19, 2009, Susan Kelk Cervantes Day in San Francisco!My step-mother, Susan Kelk Cervantes, was awarded a proclamation from Mayor Newson Gavin at the Precita Eyes Muralists Gala, "Community Art From the Heart" for her many contributions to the culture and quality of life in San Francisco. You can sign up now for the rare opportunity to take a Master Class from her in mural painting, Oct. 1 - Nov. 1: http://www.precitaeyes.org/cmpw.html. Now, Precita Eyes Muralists and SUSAN CERVANTES DEPERATELY NEEDS A VAN to replace their old one which broke down, never to run again, Saturday…

  • 100-Word Love Poems to Strangers: Poems for Francisco X. Alarcon On His 20th Anniversary

    23 Sep 2009 | 10:48 am
    100-Word Love Poem to Javier for Francísco X. AlarcónI was alone in shadows,a thief in the shadows,a regiment of one inthe shadow of you onthe night you appeared. Yougrasped me from the shadowslike the migra grabs livesout of the transatlantic water.I am no longer drowningin the shadow of you.I am alive to yourshadow, to your flank andfile. I am no longergroveling in anyone's shadow whileyours lies luxuriously in mysun. I am enormous withshadows until the sum ofyour tongue. You lick upthe galaxies in my me,my confidant, compañero de sí.8-15-09Lorna Dee…

  • Lorna Dee Cervantes: Top Poetry Blog Award

    23 Sep 2009 | 10:44 am
    Top poetry BlogsThanks to The Daily Reviewer and all who nominated me and voted.
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    Surroundings

  • Blondie

    Rob
    6 Nov 2009 | 3:24 am
    Just reminding myself that Blondie were really quite a good band back in 1978. This is live, raw, and fantastic. Also worth reflecting that Debbie Harry is already 33 here. Most new bands seem to have an average age of around 17.And from about a year later, Picture This (live from Glasgow, I think). The song contains one of the great lines of the modern rock lyric:"I will give you my finest hour,the one I spend watching you shower."

  • Poetry at the...GRV Taster - Sunday 8 November

    Rob
    5 Nov 2009 | 11:27 pm
    To say the least, I’ve been ‘blogging lite’ recently, for which I apologise. Most stuff I have posted in the last month or so has been no more than a pointer to some poem or event or book or reading, and it’s the same with this post. Normal service will return soon, maybe next week. I’ve been really busy and thought that going easy on blogging would enable me to get more done. Oddly enough, that hasn’t really happened. I get about the same amount of stuff done whether I blog or don’t blog. As my American friends would say – ‘Go figure!’ I’ve posted a poem and bio from…

  • November 2009's 'Poetry at the... GRV'

    Rob
    2 Nov 2009 | 1:34 am
    This Sunday coming, November 8th, will be the final ‘Poetry at the…’ meeting of the year. As usual, it’s from 7.45–9.45pm at the GRV, 35 Guthrie Street, Edinburgh – entry £4, concessions £3. On display will be the considerable poetic talents of Morgan Downie, Robert Alan Jamieson, and Tessa Ransford. You can read a bio and poem from Tessa at the link. There will also be three or four 3-minute spots from assorted poets, which seem to have gone down very well in the last couple of events.

  • Report From Aberdeen's Dead Good Poets

    Rob
    30 Oct 2009 | 12:58 am
    I didn’t get to bed until after 1am last night after taking the last train to Edinburgh from Aberdeen where Andrew Philip and I had been reading at the Dead Good Poets. The venue, an independent bookshop/café in Belmont Street called Books and Beans, was a great place to read and does a fine chai latte, which we both took advantage of. The evening started with an enjoyable open mic, which included everything from Rapunzel Wizard's (I’d first met him at one of the Utter! Edinburgh Fringe shows) very funny rant against Donald Trump to the calm precision of 2009 Foyle Young Poet of the…

  • Salt In Aberdeen

    Rob
    28 Oct 2009 | 6:48 am
    I’m reading in Aberdeen tomorrow evening (Thursday 29th) from 6.30pm at the Dead Good Poets event in the ‘Books and Beans’ shop, along with Andy Philip. It’s the Aberdeen launch for our books.I studied law at Aberdeen many years ago and remember well the cold blast that rakes down King Street to the beach and back again. I now know almost no one there, but I hope we get an audience in any case. I’m now rushing off to do some work-related stuff by bus and, on the way, I’ll try to choose a pool of poems to read from. Andy and I may try to mix up our sets rather than read separately…
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    GotPoetry.com News

  • A Model of Order : Concrete Poetry

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:55 pm
    Poetry News: ... Dom Sylvester HouA dard Robert Lax Edwin Morgan Mary Ellen Solt and many others. Jointly curated by the Scottish Poetry Library and the Scottish National Gallery of Modern ArtLink!

  • Scandal Sheet: Chris Brown's confused

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:48 pm
    I don't know who came up with the idea to get actors to read from other actors' memoirs/poetry collection, but it's always a good time. The latest: Kristen Wiig reads Suzanne Somers' poetry. Awesome!...Link!

  • Then Again, Perhaps Shea d Be Offended by that a oeCowrin, Tima rousa Business

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:46 pm
    The esteemed and sleek-whiskered Mouse Chairwoman is quoting from “Ballad Upon a Wedding” by Sir John Suckling, one of the English “Cavalier poets,” those dashing, witty, and sensitive 17th-century Carpe Diem fellows who came out in support of King Charles I against Parliament and the Puritans....Link!

  • A New Web Guide from The Library of Congress: Poetry of September 11

    6 Nov 2009 | 9:27 pm
    Poetry News: This guide was compiled by Peter Armenti, Digital Reference Specialist at LC. Poetry of September 11 is a guide to print and online poetry about the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.Link!

  • The Poetry Show

    6 Nov 2009 | 9:24 pm
    Poetry News: Last month I listened with special attention to Dona Stein's excellent "The Poetry Show" on KFRC-FM in Fort Collins, Colorado.Link!
 
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    Blogsboro Poetry Club

  • Obscured by Flatus

    4 Nov 2009 | 2:36 am
    Your bare legs may be fairly peppered with the gummy, reduplicative particles.

  • We must Hide our Joy

    27 Oct 2009 | 3:26 am
    Without the kids, life was a cockpit.

  • 26 Oct 2009 | 6:17 am

    26 Oct 2009 | 6:17 am
    sitting hair on grass the great ape lounged while we watched his back to the glass

  • Spirit Level II

    21 Oct 2009 | 4:52 pm
    We were children riding bicycles Toward a dark wood, pennants Streaming from our antennas. Electronic tethers to the solar plexus Made me feel a little sick sometimes. We crouched over a black high-heel To see what it had to say. Uncle Joe came up and laughed. Do you expect that shoe to talk to you? Embarrassed, we said no although It sure seemed like that shoe had news. More

  • Boy, child, lord, what am I?

    21 Oct 2009 | 4:21 am
    Amygdala Jones couldn't help putting feelings at the top of her tdhu list.
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    the amandzing way

  • theres a hole in my head

    amandzing
    30 Oct 2009 | 4:54 pm
    theres a hole in my head, don’t worry im not thinking of being dead instead its caused by words tumbling around and bashing up against the inside of my skull most people think our brains are solid but thats only the third dimensional physical anatomical presentation of the conglomeration of words jammed solid when they have nowhere to go… i have a hole in my head and words are leaking out, laughing at me with the ease of their escape as they break free from boundaries i know they hate to be stacked and stored in flawless order rhythm and pace are the way forward because without…

  • i know my friend is dead

    amandzing
    14 Oct 2009 | 7:28 pm
    i know my friend is dead it was a dark and starless night in my dream hope was plain out of light beyond the mountain a faint glow lined the ridge i was outside this dank and chilly night i’d heard the bark and howl of an old and faithful friend i threw back my head and yowled zak! owoooooo zak!owoooooo but it was pointless a dead end then a six horse carriage thundered by quick as lightning I jumped up high chased those horses until sparks from their hooves flew by they ran over the mountain i knew i was going to see zak again as i passed over the ridge i saw the light was a lie and zak…

  • tiddy tiddy bum

    amandzing
    29 Jul 2009 | 9:31 pm
    theres a hole in my soul im watching me leak out of me third party to my own destruction watching my life train wreck itself into submission and batter itself to death on the shoreline of couldn’t care less i want to rage and scream and say enough maybe not really ho hum and stumble on concentrating on wadding my life into a spitball as i slam into the wall of me against me i want to be in me again but its nice out here theres no pain maybe not really ho hum and stumble on… Tagged: african poet, depression, fear, insanity, poem, poems, Poetry, south african poet, stupid humans

  • i wish…

    amandzing
    4 Apr 2009 | 6:28 pm
    i wish i could write the smell of late summer rain the way it feels on parched skin and the way it disappears in a puff of dust when gravity returns gaia to gaia i wish i knew why for the love of god man subverted the love of god twisted it and warped it to claim the love of god for war and death and the devil and evil when we are nothing more than a raindrop and god is the earth Tagged: african poet, angel, freedom, gaia, life, love, love the world, mountains, poems, Poetry, soul, south africa, south african poet, tired

  • 6 Jan 2009 | 1:16 am

    amandzing
    6 Jan 2009 | 1:16 am
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    international exchangefor poetic invention

  • New issue of Action, Yes

    6 Nov 2009 | 8:20 am
    Hello,We have a new issue of Action, Yes up. This one features several US poets as well as a Canadian poetry special (curated by François Luong) and 3 poems by Japanese poet Takako Ara.

  • PAWA Arkipelago Reading Series 11/07/09 FREE (San Francisco)

    5 Nov 2009 | 1:29 pm
    Please join us for the next reading in the PAWA Arkipelago Reading SeriesWhere: The Bayanihan Center 1010 Mission Street @ 6th Street, San FranciscoWhen: Saturday, November 7, 2009 at 2:00 pmWho: Writers Justin Chin, Sarah Gambito, and Marianne Vilanueva. Musical guests Myrna del Río and Bo Razon.This event is free and open to the public! Justin Chin is the author of three books of poetry and three books of essays. His most recent poetry collection, Gutted (Manic D Press), received the Publishing Triangle's 2007 Thom Gunn Award for Poetry.Sarah Gambito is the author of the poetry collections…

  • A new (irregular) fascicle: "Lettere Grosse"

    26 Oct 2009 | 7:00 am
    LETTERE GROSSE [big letters] is a new (irregular) fascicle, featuring Italian experimental prose + visual poetry & works from all over the world.The issues will be exclusively online. No paper.Big letters + short texts = a thin chap, immediately readable & enjoyable on line.Seehttp://letteregrosse.blogspot.com and/orhttp://issuu.com/letteregrosse* * *in this first draft (=issue):Nanni BalestriniRoberto CavalleraMichele MarinelliGreg EvasonGiulio MarzaioliLuca ZaniniGherardo BortolottiAngela Genusa* * *

  • New American Poetry : 3rd anthology : New York

    25 Oct 2009 | 2:21 pm
    Third step of the new anthology of US poetry edited by Luigi Ballerini and Paul Vangelisti. This volume is focused on New York.Nuova poesia americana. New YorkBilingual edition, pp. 975, Mondadori, 2009Authors:Bruce Andrews, John Ashbery, Amiri Baraka, Bill Berkson, Charles Bernstein, Anselm Berrigan, Ted Berrigan, Paul Blackburn, Brian Blanchfield, Joseph Ceravolo, Jordan Davis, Ray Di Palma, Timothy Donnelly, Barbara Guest, Victor Hernandez Cruz, Robert Kelly, Kenneth Koch, Ann Lauterbach, David Lehman, Tinothy Liu, Lisa Lubasch, Jackson MacLow, Ted Mathys, Bernadette Mayer, Ryan Murphy,…

  • IEPI in Appeal Us Annex Amperdans Festival

    23 Oct 2009 | 10:43 am
    IEPI is participating by my intervention as inspiration in Appeal Us- Annex Amperdans4 Festival, Antwerp(Belgium).You could to find one description at:http://www.open-frames.net/appeal_us/The Annex Amperdans is an extension of the main programme under the topic " applause and appreciation" organizated by Marc Venrunxt 6 Kristof van Gestel.It will take place in the foyer of tthe varios venues of the Amperdans´s Festival in Monty, Antwerp where a computer will be at the visitor´s disposal until 24 october in the context that occur after a…
 
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    Poetry of Life

  • Solitude

    Neelam.Shah
    4 Nov 2009 | 5:27 am
    I am the only one left on this piece of earth. A lonely figure in the centre of the colourless land I am but a single cloud left to pour Devastation, sadness, over the lands Leaving no traces of hope, light and happiness Everyone was once standing here on this very land not so long ago Now they are all blown away with the demonic winds I see their poor empty spirits still glide amongst the grey skies Silence is here, there where ever I go. Not a sound, or a breath from no living creature. It’s just me rooted on one spot gazing at what was the Most beautiful land which now is the most…

  • Agony

    Gurteg.Singh.Saini
    25 Oct 2009 | 9:12 am
    The agony & the immense pain, Of separation once again, I stoop & I fall, And then I fall again. The pain throughout the mundane night, Was extremely unbearable, I tread on pieces of broken glass, With not even a splinter of glass for succour. The day is worse & I dread its light, It is worse than the horrifying night. The days have passed when light was welcome, Now it is highly unwelcome. This horrendous time has taken its toll, Gone is the day when I was on a roll. My only hope is Thy Hand, My Lord; Either save me or use Thy Sword. Either way, I shall fall at Thy Feet, Thy…

  • Pebbles of the sea

    Neelam.Shah
    24 Oct 2009 | 9:26 am
    As the brutal sea waves crashes on to the delicate sand, He leaves traces of tiny circles indented onto the tickly grounds, permanently stamped. Who could have made these circles? It could only be the Pebbles of the sea. The tiny surface of hard cold stones wept across the soft, sizzling land of golden gravel, no single life has ever touched the sea’s treasures, wonder why? If a soul innocently puts a tiny toe on just the tip of the sea’s possessions, the sea’s wrath would rage against the poor soul. He would order his mighty army of gnashing tides to capture this trespasser, and with…

  • Pandemonium

    Gurteg.Singh.Saini
    23 Oct 2009 | 9:09 am
    The old order changeth, yielding place to the new, But the new generation ? They have lapsed into liquor, drugs & what have you. These are trying times, for them, for us, for we all What did we do to deserve this withal ? A sinister world is sprouting & we are part of the doom, Why, firstly, did we let this impending danger bloom ? Why do you kill yourself slowly, that too, with drugs ? Don’t you realize that you are amidst life taking thugs ? Change your world, still there is time The curtains have not fallen & that is prime. Change the system, change your world & save…

  • Life through Windows

    Neelam.Shah
    22 Oct 2009 | 9:17 am
    What do you see, when you look outside a  window. A changing face, an transition stage in my life. Taking new challenges and walking different routes, to reach my ultimate destination. Over coming obstacles that, may cut into my life. Looking through the light that guides me to the right direction. Gazing at all the souls blissfully walking, down my road wearing smart suits, and grasping each and every, Opportunity to achieve their goals. Seeing what was once a single race leading, the country, which now has become, a multiracial community. Glancing at the vehicles striding by I spot only…
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    Soul Gaze

  • More than a Pretty Face

    Amanda Sanz
    3 Nov 2009 | 5:59 pm
    More than a pretty face Look deep into my eyes rays of light shine from the depth of my being Listen to my voice When I see you cry Want to make it alright And see you smile This shell of mine A curse When all they see Doesn’t go further Than two inches down my skin In time all will fade away Deep within wrinkles Don’t want to think All be gone as I disappear Want to touch your heart And make it beat Like it never had before No because you saw me But because you felt me More than a pretty face Complex, deep and strong Full of love and joy If only you can touch my soul……

  • Your Way

    Amanda Sanz
    12 Oct 2009 | 6:22 pm
    The way you touch With just your voice, Your words enlaced Within my heart. Your lips thirsty For drops of honey Gently falling From my fragile frame. In tune a melody Of chimes, Playing like a symphony To my ears. Making me dance Eternally in the notes Of your passionate love. © 2009 by Amanda Sanz

  • Asi es el Amor

    Amanda Sanz
    21 Sep 2009 | 7:00 pm
    Me encanta esta cancion, no pudo describir el amor mejor!! Disfrutalo!

  • Sin Palabras

    Amanda Sanz
    22 Jul 2009 | 6:33 pm
    Sin palabras en mi sueños en mi mente y en mi cielo Sin palabras hoy suspiro añorando tu regreso con tus brazos en mi cuerpo Sin palabras hoy camino un sendero sin estrellas esperando el lucero de tus ojos destello de alegria Sin palabras fugitiva de aquello que soñamos palabras al viento acobigadas en el alma © 2009 by Amanda Sanz

  • No Me Fio

    Amanda Sanz
    24 Jun 2009 | 7:43 am
    Es triste llegar a este lugar, pero a veces ahi estamos.
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    World Class Poetry Blog

  • Why I Love My Wife

    the poet
    6 Nov 2009 | 7:01 pm
    My wife is a great woman. When I ask for chicken broth she brings it to me. And she does other things too. But I needed chicken broth last night and she made me the best cup of broth I’ve ever had. Thanks, wife. I’ve been fighting a cold now for three days. So no video today. We’ll be picking back up on video Friday next week.

  • Zukofsky’s Ballade

    the poet
    4 Nov 2009 | 8:07 pm
    Yesterday I announced I was reading Louis Zukofsky’s “A”. The poem is decidedly written in the mode of free verse – most parts of it anyway. But imagine my surprise when, at the end of Part 8, I’m reading along and happen upon a Ballade. Right in the middle of the poem. Zukofsky was a Modernist. So it shouldn’t surprise me that he did this. All the Modernist’s wrote this way to some extent. One of my favorites, T.S. Eliot, was very adept at it. Nevertheless, Zukofsky springs a Ballade on us, which is a specific type of form. It isn’t merely…

  • Understanding A Poet’s Purpose

    the poet
    3 Nov 2009 | 11:31 am
    To what extent do you make an attempt to understand a poet’s purposes? Or should you? I suspect that many readers do not take the time to understand a particular poet’s poetic, or weltanschauung, before delving into a reading experience. But I think in many cases, they should. I recently had a copy of Louis Zukofsky’s “A” sent to my local library from a university library within my state. This will be my first reading of the poem. Understanding a few things about Zukofsky in general and his worldview in particular helps me to better understand the purposes for…

  • To/From – The Dual Nature Of Free

    the poet
    1 Nov 2009 | 9:21 pm
    Free is a word that gets used a lot. Politically, everyone wants to be free. Economically, people want free goods and services. Or free money. And poetically, some of us like free verse. Some people give away sex for free. To anybody. Isn’t that gross? But what I’ve noticed when people use the word ‘free’ in most contexts is that they use it in a loaded way. You’ll often hear people say of government services – education would be a good example – that it’s ‘free’. Actually, it’s not. But it appears to be free so they think it…

  • When I Come Home, The Video

    the poet
    30 Oct 2009 | 2:28 pm
    Yesterday, I posted a poem I wrote recently, a habit I don’t want to start, but I thought I’d share the video of me reading it today for the second Friday Video installment. The poem is titled “When I Come Home.” I hope you enjoy it.
 
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    Poems and Poetics

  • David Antin: From “Words to the Wise” (2 poems, 2009)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    5 Nov 2009 | 1:02 am
    RUSSIAN PROVERBSthe wave betrays the windthirst teaches you the value of waterif you have nothing you’ve got nothing to losethe squash calls the melon a cucumbera small hole can sink a big shipthe road from the peak can only lead to the valleyits easier for a lake to become a swamp than for a swamp to become a lakeyou can soften steel but it takes a lot of heatexperience may be a good teacher but its not a governesswhen the river overflows, the last raindrop thinks it caused the floodthe sea swallows the wise as well as the foolhope has distinguished relativesif you’re looking for a…

  • Reconfiguring Romanticism (33) : from Novalis and Schlegel, two essays toward a language poetry

    Jerome Rothenberg
    1 Nov 2009 | 4:50 am
    NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG): MONOLOGUE (1798)Matters concerning speech and writing are genuinely strange; proper conversation is a mere play of words. We can only marvel at the laughable error people make--believing that they speak about things. No one knows precisely what is peculiar to language, that it concerns itself merely with itself. For that reason, it is a wonderful and fertile mystery--that when someone speaks merely in order to speak, one precisely then expresses the most splendid and most original truths. Yet if one wishes to speak of something determinate, then…

  • Outsider Poems, a Mini-Anthology in Progress (11): A Christmas Play, Performed by the Derbyshire Mummers, 1849

    Jerome Rothenberg
    29 Oct 2009 | 1:44 am
    DRAMATIS PERSONAE: ST. GAY, KING GEORGE, SOLDIER, BLACK PRINCE, DOCTOR, and BEELZEBUB Prologue I open the door as I came in, A pinion favour for to win; Whether I rise, stand, or fall, I'll do my duty to please you all. Room, room, brave gallants; Room, room, I intend to shew, See how these pretty actors go, Acting well, or acting pale. And if you can't believe me what I say, Step in, St. Gay, and clear a way. [Enter ST. GAY.] St. Gay Here am I, St. Gay; St. Gay it is my name; From England's ground I sprung and came; I'll search the nations round and round, If I can but find King George I'll…

  • Jess (Collins): Images from "Tricky Cad" with an anecdote, in memory

    Jerome Rothenberg
    26 Oct 2009 | 6:38 am
    When I first came across Tricky Cad, Jess's ferocious cut-up/collage from the old & very popular Dick Tracy comic strip, I spoke to him about making it a part of of a small (16 page) book that we intended to publish by the cheapest means then available. He called the book O! & filled it with it with mostly Victorian & photo-inspired collages, plus his own handwritten & handtyped poems in the manner, I thought, of Christian Morgenstern, whom he was also then translating. The deconstructed comic strips brought the book into the proto-pop world, of which we were still hardly…

  • Kenneth Rexroth: American Indian Songs, from Densmore & Others

    Jerome Rothenberg
    23 Oct 2009 | 7:23 am
    [This groundbreaking & highly influential essay (including an accompanying selection of poem-songs) was first published in Perspectives USA (1956). It was reprinted in Assays (New Directions, 1961) & again in Ken Knabb’s Bureau of Public Secrets. Rexroth’s selection of Dennsmore’s translations will appear in two subsequent postings. (Copyright © 1961 by Kenneth Rexroth, used courtesy of the Kenneth Rexroth Trust.) I reprint it here as a homage both to Rexroth & to Densmore. - J.R.] In all the public and academic libraries in America and in most of the principal libraries of…
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    Wild Horses Of Fire

  • William Forsythe's Decreation at BAM

    Thom Donovan
    5 Nov 2009 | 10:20 pm
    reviewed in The Brooklyn Rail:http://www.brooklynrail.org/2009/11/dance/william-forsythes-decreation-at-bam"Reading Simone Weil this past week before reviewing Decreation, it became clear to me just how unidimensional Forsythe’s rendering of Weil’s idea of decreation is. At times I want to cry reading Weil, whose pages offer metaphysical insights hard-won from her life of pain, deprivation, and self-elected martyrdom (Weil was born into an agnostic middle-class French Jewish family, yet throughout her life chose to live among and, perhaps more importantly, undergo the suffering of the…

  • A Cut Per Border

    Thom Donovan
    3 Nov 2009 | 6:42 pm
    -after Guy Ben-NerIf your eyes will believe And I believe they must Believe there is no swindleJust the proof of our beingAnd not being here justThe proof of this apartheid Love is a trip that blinks That lisps with each wordOwing to travel rhyming Like artifice unravels like aPlot device my life as ifAnyone could be writing thisAnyone but you anyoneBut I we don't mean to beShakespearian we just are Like some regret I hadLeaving this border in The rhyme scheme in the Splice how can we not be Forced our comings And goings force vanishesFantasy is the face weGive it dejected never Satisfied…

  • The Dispossessions: a Via Negativa

    Thom Donovan
    3 Nov 2009 | 9:15 am
    Last spring I received an email in my inbox asking for recipients to draw pornographic drawings for the cover of a forthcoming poetry book:To the nitty gritty: We are looking for super dirty (even middle-school mentality) line-drawing porn, especially featuring penises and vaginas. Something small, something you'd draw on a desk in a coupla minutes. You may want to consult the attached text (of the chapbook) for "inspiration." The images will appear on the backboard of the book, which will be covered by a dust cover using die-cut peep holes. The book of poems by Judith Goldman, The…

  • from "Paul Chan My Neighbor"

    Thom Donovan
    2 Nov 2009 | 7:41 pm
    "The question I kept asking myself watching Chan's video was: why Sade? The press release for the show states that for the past few years Chan has been making work exclusively after the Marquis. One reason seems obvious. It has two names: Gitmo and Abu Ghraib. The Bush administration remains Chan's central foil, and as such Chan will probably be remembered and studied as one of the most important American artists--if not the iconic American artist--of the Bush years. That the Bush administration broke with the Geneva accords, encouraging torture among its military and governmental agencies,…

  • from The Activist Press in Recent American Poetry

    Thom Donovan
    2 Nov 2009 | 7:23 pm
    "Throughout modernity, there is also a vital tradition of the small press serving a politics, and doing so through formal exploration (form not given, but discovered through a situation, process, or event). The poem, I would argue, is a form of action; it does something in the world--to culture, to a readership--and is therefore active. The question of what poetry does recalls the Spinozan proposition: we have not yet determined what a body can do. That is, the limits of what the poem can do inscribe the limits of existence in its consequences. These consequences necessarily bear out a…
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    Poetry Blog of 32 Poems Magazine

  • Kelle Groom: An Interview With Serena Agusto-Cox

    Serena
    5 Nov 2009 | 10:00 pm
    Poet Kelle Groom, published in 32 Poems How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you? I also write personal essays/memoir. For the last year, I’ve been poetry editor for The Florida Review, and have now shifted into an advisory editor position. I work full-time as the Grants & Communications Manager for Atlantic Center for the Arts, an international artists-in-residence program in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Prior to this, I was the Director of Grants Administration for the Coalition for…

  • Claudia Burbank: An Interview With Serena Agusto-Cox

    Serena
    29 Oct 2009 | 1:00 am
    Poet Claudia Burbank, published in 32 Poems 1. How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you? I’ve come to writing after retiring from the corporate world (telecommunications). I was one of those road warriors you see running through the airport. I knew I was traveling too much when the airline crew celebrated my birthday. Lacking a background in English or writing I had to start from scratch. Reading has been a lifelong delight though. I’m a graduate of Vassar College and a 30 year…

  • Poets Can Dance

    deborah
    28 Oct 2009 | 12:37 pm
    Some writers have to clean everything before they can write. Some dance.

  • Submission Guideline Changes

    deborah
    27 Oct 2009 | 3:24 am
    Since John Poch will be editing 32 Poems from afar next spring, we will not be reading manuscripts via regular mail after December 1. If you wish to submit poems between December 1, 2009 and May 1, 2010, please email your poems to us at 32poems at gmail dot com. As you know, we do not read from May 1 till August 31. Email the poems (less than 5, please) in one MS Word doc or docx file. The cover letter should be sent as the body of the gmail. As usual, we prefer shorter lyric poems that fit on a single page, but we sometimes bend the rules to fit other extraordinary work. Do NOT email other…

  • Ann Fisher-Wirth: An Interview by Serena Agusto-Cox

    Serena
    26 Oct 2009 | 4:00 am
    Poet Ann Fisher-Wirth, published in 32 Poems 1. How would you introduce yourself to a crowded room eager to hang on your every word? Are you just a poet, what else should people know about you? I’d never say anyone was “just” a poet, because a poet is a pretty amazing thing to be. But writing poetry is not the only thing I do. I teach American literature, poetry workshops and literature courses, and a wide range of courses in environmental studies at the University of Mississippi. I also teach yoga, and that is a really important part of my life. I’ve been married for…
 
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    Sad Poems

  • Hacking the Temptation

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:00 pm
    Sometime later I confessed to having been there before. To knowing that it was hopeless. The ease by which a fraudulent grin escapes is just a symptom. Of a conspiracy greater than the sum of our skins. I chased the wolf as far as I could. He was earnest in his endeavor. I questioned the pigs. About the houses they'd built. And the flaws in their conception. Offering them each a ride on my time machine. An opportunity to prepare for the future knowing what it would be. Each one declined. Insisting the truth is not negotiable. The future more past than present. Fallen houses mean nothing when…

  • Arranging the Negatives

    5 Nov 2009 | 9:35 pm
    Their vacant gazes. Itinerary enough. I've been nowhere too often not to want to go back. Sheep's lips on the blender. As the meat surrenders to the pot. And wolf tongues stuck to the cold metal pylons. As the winter loosely takes over. I'm not wearing anything. I'm not anywhere at all. I don't exist. Save for what they might remember. And that is far too little. The pirates boast. Stealing their gold from our secret places. The witches dance. In inkblots on paper I've scribbled over. The reason I can't find the cure is that this disease does not exist. I am it. It is me. And we die together.

  • Exposed

    3 Nov 2009 | 9:36 pm
    I was gone again. Empty bedsheets lay behind. To testify. Of the strangers I've encountered when left alone. The villain straightened his necktie. The hero checked his every pocket. But neither could find. What was left to be saved. I woke up in the darkness, though clearly it was long since day. Time travel takes its commissions. On heavy skin and fraying bones. I press the button. To stop the alarm, but it's still ringing in my head. Flirting with the darkness. Dead pens gouge the paper. A hundred years from now. But tonight it's still just an empty page. Little girls on their tiptoes.

  • Persephone

    1 Nov 2009 | 11:03 pm
    This was us. Beta solved in endless loops. Relentlessly undoing what must be done. Her lips raw with decisions she was bound to regret. Her eyes. A beautiful song whose words I could not remember. It's all just like cut grass. Whispering under foot. All those ghosts stomping on our garden. Too tired to care. That the dead are more alive than us. The molecule is the victim. In this story I tell too much. Makeshift machines pretend to bring the future. My sheets tell another story. I could catch her if I really tried. With honeydew and soft perfume. She merely a woman. Nothing so spectacular.

  • Ceremonies in Salt

    31 Oct 2009 | 10:22 pm
    The barter reason enough. As the callous braves the structure of the skin. In distant feuds attached to many corpses. He was old, but still not old enough. The tremors full on as he dealt with relentless tomorrows. Intent on coming. Regardless of if he wanted them. The darkness. A manic clairvoyant. With more future than I can stand. He climbs the stairs. As slow as any proverb. Grabbing those wisdom by their asses. Searching for a child in a world full of women. He's lonely. But it's not my fault. He's alone, but so am I. As the atoms split, so too do they multiply. And we are pieces amongst…
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    anachronizms

  • mlix

    6 Nov 2009 | 8:04 am
    It was a leaky pierce.   I emptieda tiny Visine bottle and blissfullysiphoned as much of the sweat as I could off the floor, squoze the sweatinto the bottle without losing eventhe tiniest drop.   We still don’thave a microphone.

  • mlviii

    4 Nov 2009 | 8:12 am
    May is the best month toclimb Mt. Fuji.   What’sinteresting is never the truth,especially when one’s fantasyis realized.   Glad to hear thatlife can punch you in the noseevery once in a while.   Onewouldn’t be the least bitintrigued with it.   I’mmaking a grand assumptionabout your tattoo as it melts,oily drips that stagger downthe small of your back andpool up into my belly button.

  • mlvii

    3 Nov 2009 | 7:57 am
    BTW you type using bananas                    —K. Silem MohammadReading along you think he wasnever really on location there’s nothing personal on this page.Oh, wait, but I was there andkissed you on the mouthafter you bit off youreraser.

  • mlvi

    2 Nov 2009 | 8:36 am
    Into my mouth a kind of oblongsecret.   Trade joy with elation,flummoxed by the hopelessgiddy drive to remain alive.All night long and into thenext day this overwhelmingwrite it down in case I forget.Every detail to the touch.Tight shaved mouth are youreally who you are?   I can’ttell this moment.   Only thismoment let’s not go back tois it good enough for everyday.   That prison I claimto have broken out of inorder to become alive.

  • mlv

    30 Oct 2009 | 8:54 am
    Dancing on love really stomping it into theground.   It’s not another lazy dance.   Din ofthe bathroom stall, fiercely and for all historyoverwhelms its magic mirror twenty years ago, some kind of crazy heaven in my ears.   Forbetter or worse, I’ll throw it away before therapy (like eggtoss & tug of war).   Having a senselesscrush on him for years, this isn’t going to be a minor disturbance.   It was even better thananything that’s crept into my prolificfantasies and wallops my first attemptat power-dating into insignificance.
 
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    Carol Peters

  • Sherman Alexie

    5 Nov 2009 | 1:23 pm
    [from Sherman Alexie's Face, Hanging Loose, 2009]The Sum of His PartsDriving home, I ran over a bull snakeAnd tore it into three pieces.I didn't mean to kill the thing.I'd thought it was the thin shadowOf a telephone pole stretched across the road.I realized it was a snakeOnly after I'd run it over.Thump, thump:That's the percussionOf car tires and snake.After I ran over it, I stopped,Left the car idling,And walked backTo the three pieces of snake.In death-shock, the head and tailThrashed separatelyAgainst the pavementThat had been its warm rock.The middle piece, strangeAnd disconnected, did…

  • Jane Kenyon

    5 Nov 2009 | 7:57 am
    [from Jane Kenyon's Otherwise, Graywolf, 1996]From the Back StepsA bird begins to sing,hesitates, like a carpenterpausing to straighten a nail, thenbegins again.The cat lolls in the shadeunder the parked car, his headin the wheel's path.I bury the thing I love.But the cat continues to liecomfortably, right where he is,and no one will move the car.My own violence falls awaylike paint peeling from a wall.I am choosing a new colorto paint my house, though I'm stillnot sure what the color will be.Afternoon in the HouseIt's quiet here. The catssprawl, eachin a favored place.The geranium leans this…

  • Douglas Oliver

    4 Nov 2009 | 9:50 am
    [from Douglas Oliver's Three Variations on the Theme of Harm, Paladin, 1990]The HeronI talk only of voices either real or virtual in my ear:of shadows, only those that pass over islands' sunny turfvivid to my eye. But when I come to all my birds,all I've ever seen, they are too many. I talk of things unseen.Together, they would pack the sky like moving embroideryin the white silks, browns and blacks of their great tribe,endless litters of puppies writhing,a heavenly roof alive but no progress of flight in it.Every memory adds to this intricate plot;starting up redshanks first, and they bank,…

  • Louise Gluck

    3 Nov 2009 | 2:03 pm
    [from Louise Gluck's A Village Life, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2009]ConfessionHe steals sometimes, because they don't have their own treeand he loves fruit. Not steals exactly — he pretends he's an animal; he eats off the ground,as the animals would eat. This is what he tells the priest,that he doesn't think it should be a sin to take what would just lie there and rot,this year like every other year.As a man, as a human being, the priest agrees with the boy,but as a priest he chastises him, though the penance is light,so as to not kill off imagination: what he'd giveto a much younger boy…

  • David Bromige

    22 Oct 2009 | 10:35 am
    [from David Bromige's Desire: Selected Poems, 1963-1987, Dutton, 1989]The Romance of the AutomobileIt's dark. But there's a moon. You're lonely.You've got me. You can't stay where you are.You don't give me a thought, & climb insideturn me on, & off we go,me all around you, moving youwhile you sit still, up & downthe ground I keep you lifted from,across the distance that your friends call you.Though I can't seewith these things much like eyesI let you find the way.Let you see what you might hit & miss.Let you feel you're in control.Let you make me go so fastyou can't control me quite as…
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    Chicano Poet

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 10:34 pm

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:34 pm
    Lovers’ Altarafter we made loveI removed your spinebeing careful to enticeevery little bit of sinewimagine the moonlying on its dark sideimagine teethgiving and receiving surfthe brim of your skullabove wateryour orgasm like a doorknobits gold in my handsilence has a lumpI discover in the halllove brushes asidemy suave face

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 10:55 am

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:55 am
    Negative Capabilityyour beautiful life Rosabuzzing in my earsyou built a damfrom cleverone I could not crosspensive mountains in your brown handsnot much left in the boxexcept tall blonde eggsyour charmed lifein a pursemy lungs fill with bloodwho the hell am I John Keatsmy heartbreakjust a spicy little word

  • 4 Nov 2009 | 9:55 am

    4 Nov 2009 | 9:55 am
    The Fall Of Troymy thumbprint on your lipsthe simmering inside of youa pocketknife of hairhollers from its haunchesI take a pencil with meto the quarryI love you in a narrow oreI fought the Trojans for youwearing only a bell for armorthe sun finally set like wineif I have only won your pastis that enoughHercules or lichenclimbed on by a beetleperhaps in another lifenot being loved suffices

  • 2 Nov 2009 | 3:10 pm

    2 Nov 2009 | 3:10 pm
    Words Are Just The Cousin Of DesireI open the book of your poemspry open its sweetness like thighsthe pocket of a verblashes its angel to huea tough word oppressesa weaker wordtwo strangers in the same welllook up and smilethe childish faces of your poemsometimes die of hunger and rightly so you saydog poem cabrito poemyour father’s poem the husband you divorced poemthe cloud-stricken chaparralpinches your nipplesgod how I want to creepagainst your sweat unnoticed

  • 31 Oct 2009 | 4:12 pm

    31 Oct 2009 | 4:12 pm
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    Earth & Pragmatism

  • are poets helpful because they receive few rewards?

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:07 am
    Though the below TED talk on the social psychology of motivation does not mention Aristotle, I cannot help but think of Aristotle's distinction, as explained in Nicomachean Ethics, between intrinsically fascinating behaviors ("activity" [praxis, energia]) and extrinsically motivated, reward-based behaviors ("doing" [kinesias, poesias]). The former, said Aristotle, are superior because they are

  • more ubuntu, less duende

    30 Oct 2009 | 12:37 pm
    Duende.1.1: a modernist, tactically vague aesthetic descriptor whose effective purpose was to attribute a non-categorical, non-assessable, non-confirmable and ostensibly occult quality to a work or author, in order both to mark that work, author, or affiliated group for social distinction and to legitimate the fetish of author, text, technique.  Descriptors like duende are pseudo-concepts created

  • Regarding Thomas Gray's "Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College"

    24 Oct 2009 | 10:35 am
    The other night I witnessed a friend threatened with murder and was reminded of Thomas Gray's extraordinary poem, "Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College." It is a remarkably palliative piece, despite its drawing a stark picture of the unavoidable pain and sorrow in store for each of us, the substantial damage we will each incur as the price of either our own or someone else's folly. And the

  • 20 Oct 2009 | 3:11 pm

    20 Oct 2009 | 3:11 pm
    "have I not taught from the very beginningthat with all that is dear and belovedthere must be change, separation, and severance?" - DN 16 PTS: D ii 72, v. 58

  • congratulations on being here

    16 Oct 2009 | 9:27 am
    Celebration "is" ."selfrestraint, is attentiveness, is questioning, is meditating is awaiting" .is: a per.son’s .body a large mob.ile collection, of molecule, we congratulate .id.ea of body.Who can.'t, "a wo.rld is wor.lding," rehearsing, in fact, that we a.re, "here." We congrat.ulate, "th.at the.re a.re be.ings at all," th.e not.ion of hereness, of here. A, boulder,'s a large, part.icle. We
 
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    the dust congress

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 10:04 pm

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:04 pm
    shine out in the wild kindnessGibby Haynes, Revelation, unknownPoems by Richard Brautigan:To England There are no postage stamps that send lettersback to England three centuries ago,no postage stamps that make letterstravel back until the grave hasn't been dug yet,and John Donne stands looking out the window,it is just beginning to rain this April morning,and the birds are falling into the

  • 4 Nov 2009 | 11:03 pm

    4 Nov 2009 | 11:03 pm
    How much fun is a lot more funJonathan Blum, Will It Be OK?, 2007* From a 1998 interview of Charles Simic. excerpt:J.M. Spalding: Could you talk about your early years and your life before you realized you were a poet?Charles Simic: Germans and the Allies took turns dropping bombs on my head while I played with my collection of lead soldiers on the floor. I would go boom, boom, and then they

  • 3 Nov 2009 | 9:42 pm

    3 Nov 2009 | 9:42 pm
    Who can say where we're goingNo care in the worldMaybe I'm learningWhy the sea on the tideHas no way of turningMary Chiaramonte, Love + Hate, 2007Xmas Gift -- by Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997)I met Einstein in a dreamSpringtime on Princeton lawn grassI kneeled down & kissed his young thumblike a ruddy popehis face fresh broad cheeked rosy"I invented a universe separate,something like a Virgin"--"Yes

  • 2 Nov 2009 | 9:49 pm

    2 Nov 2009 | 9:49 pm
    I walk through the heatherUnderneath the skyThe leaves have never looked as goodAs now they're going to dieT. V. Santhosh, Bitter Lessons II, 2009* Can you believe it? The Redskin's vendors are selling beer in the men's room at FedEx Field. excerpt:"But then last weekend, the same guy who posted the shot a year ago put a video of FedExField’s head hawkers on YouTube. Commenters again chimed

  • 27 Oct 2009 | 9:05 pm

    27 Oct 2009 | 9:05 pm
    all I want in life is a little loveto take the pain awayArshile Gorky, The Liver is the Cock’s Comb, 1943Progress Report -- by Leonard NathanThe trees won't talk; but we've got instruments To get the truth. Old omens of the air Mean birds are hungry, here as everywhere, And speak, if forced to, in present tense. This took eternity and some expense To verify. Gods, never really there, Reduce to
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    Elsewhere

  • 26 Oct 2009 | 6:29 am

    26 Oct 2009 | 6:29 am
    THREE TITLE PAGES FROM ELSEWHERE 4Part 1Part 2Part 3

  • 20 Oct 2009 | 7:06 am

    20 Oct 2009 | 7:06 am
    NOAH AND PAUL ZUKOFSKY’S ARKafter this.Voice of GodNoahPaul Zukofsky[Clouds break as light streams down.]GOD: Noah I know you man your good in my book man keep your head up these people are whack!NOAH: Wat up Bucket????GOD: [Thunder, lightning, rain.] Thats whats up!!!!!!!NOAH: Come to me with that shit![Paul Zukofsky walks in.]PAUL ZUKOFSKY: Well God it’s me, Paul Zukofsky? What do you want me to do today?GOD: People have messed up God’s world, people who obtain copies of LZ manuscripts, marginalia, etc. etc. such as at UTexas or elsewhere, and who have not first requested and received…

  • 15 Oct 2009 | 7:18 am

    15 Oct 2009 | 7:18 am
    LIVING IN ADVANCE: A TRIBUTE TO DAVID BROMIGEFriday, October 16, 7:00pmPoets House10 River TerraceNew York, NY 10282(212) 431-7920info@poetshouse.orgwith Charles Bernstein, Corina Copp, Rachel Levitsky, Daniel Nohejl, Bob Perelman, Nick Piombino, Ron Silliman, Gary Sullivan, Geoffrey Young & OthersThis evening celebrates the life and work of poet David Bromige (1933–2009), who was born in London, grew up in Canada, and arrived in 1962 in Northern California, where he spent the rest of his life, teaching and writing more than forty books of poetry. Cosponsored by the Poetry…

  • 13 Oct 2009 | 7:32 am

    13 Oct 2009 | 7:32 am
    NEO-BENSHI: DARBY O'GILL AND THE LITTLE PEOPLE Do ya'll like ethnic stereotypes? Dumb jokes about the NYC poetry world? Then you'll be wantin' to bar the door and watch this wee neo-benshi I done at Dixon Place earlier this year. Brandon Downing, who curated the event, has posted videos of the the whole two night event here.Part onePart two

  • 10 Oct 2009 | 7:16 am

    10 Oct 2009 | 7:16 am
    I USED TO BELIEVE(Written for the ISSUE Project Room reading last night, thinking of Suzanne Fiol.)I used to believe that towels were sleeping ghosts.I used to think gravel was the same as gravity. Like the rocks in our driveway held us to the earth.I thought that Germany must be a place of many germs (“germ” + “many”).For a long time I thought a virgin was someone from Virginia. I found out what it was when a friend of mine came up to me and said “Guess what? So-and-so isn’t a virgin,” and I responded, “Duh, I know. She’s from Texas.”I used to believe that nobody could…
 
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    gravity and light

  • DEFINING THE ORGASM by Nin Andrews

    5 Nov 2009 | 1:52 pm
    Perhaps you don't want to admit you've never had an orgasm. Maybe you don't even know what orgasms are, much less what style they come in, and how they might become available to you. That is why you are reading this guide to orgasms. You want to enter the realm of intimate revelations, heightened awareness, evocative sounds and silence. Indeed the history of orgasms is nothing other than the history of the world.The fact is, orgasms are everywhere, though when we ask what an orgasm is, we find ourselves at a loss for words. Some call orgasms faith, others consider them music, still others say…

  • Lynette’s War by Chella Courington

    30 Oct 2009 | 1:03 pm
    My cousin Lynette says she’s tired from cleaning East Main houses of rich bitches. They don’t even shit like us, got toilet seats that float to the bowl, never make a sound, & she hands me the baby over the front seat. Days off Merry Maids we like to drive her ’97 Trans Am to Atlanta— kd lang over eight speakers. I’m tired too, tired of being the babysitter. Leah grabbing my earrings, covers me in crumbs. She bites off the heads of animal crackers. Only eats heads. Don’t know why I hang with her. She’s like the girl who cut my hair at Cinderella’s saying I had the ugliest…

  • September by Chella Courington

    28 Oct 2009 | 6:50 pm
    1Fog on the horizon hides hard island edges. Close to the patio sprinklers swish: streams rise in sun before falling in the garden. Six plastic-pink flamingoes parade by the sago palm.A pair of dolphins, togetherstill after twenty years, watchfrom the granite fountain.2Stripping an apple, peel swingingin air, I think of Mother who sliced what grew around her.From wood the size of playing cards she whittled small animals: our cat on haunches, neck turned. She carved a woman on her knees, mostly stomach, hands buried her bowed face. 3Santa Ana winds blow dry and scatter dust in their wake.

  • Spiderweb by Kay Ryan

    16 Oct 2009 | 8:42 am
    From otherangles thefibers lookfragile, butnot from thespider’s, alwayshauling coarseropes, hitchinglines to thebest postspossible. It’sheavy workeveryplace,fighting sag,winching upgive. Itisn’t everdelicateto live.

  • THE SHEEP-CHILD by James Dickey

    11 Oct 2009 | 11:01 pm
    Farm boys wild to coupleWith anything with soft-wooded treesWith mounds of earth moundsOf pine straw will keep themselves offAnimals by legends of their own:In the hay-tunnel darkAnd dung of barns, they willSay I have heard tellThat in a museum in AtlantaWay back in a corner somewhereThere's this thing that's only halfSheep like a woolly babyPickled in alcohol becauseThose things can't live his eyesAre open but you can't stand to lookI heard from somebody who ... But this is now almost allGone. The boys have takenTheir own true wives in the city,The sheep are safe in the west hillPasture but…
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    Letras de Cactus ©2009 Poetry with a Mexican accent

  • 6 Nov 2009 | 10:46 am

    6 Nov 2009 | 10:46 am
    GRIEFThe manIn the red sweaterIs fading on the sandThe folderOn his handsWeighs a terribleBurden on himHe walksBarely aliveBarely consciousEphemeral like anUnsuspected visitDisintegrating likeThe dead birds on the sand

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 12:40 pm

    5 Nov 2009 | 12:40 pm
    PLAYGROUND SWINGHow fragile is lifeWhen foam comes outWith happinessWhen foams comes outThrough the mouthOf extradited secretsDecorating the bridgesAnd tall buildingsOf the cities in your mindA ropeIs only an instrumentOf distanceA knotIs what happensWith careless breathingA bridge can serveAs a roofA bridge isA pendulum

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 10:35 am

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:35 am
    8X8 The skiff lingersMaking circles on the waterAnd the Portuguese lighthouse radiatesThe boat retreatsAs the 8x8 foreign manPetting the 2 caninesSaid to me:Good morning!A womanIs confusedWith the salt waterHer denim jeansHave pockets full of sandShe’s on the shoreShe’s at the mercy of the cold waterShe’s wetShe screamsShe cursesShe criesIn EnglishI walkI walk awayI walk northboundTo the line on the faceOf the earthTight lipsShe tries to smileBut she can’t

  • 4 Nov 2009 | 11:00 am

    4 Nov 2009 | 11:00 am
    ADOQUÍNThe water diving dogThe beach diving muttReturns with a smile on its faceWater dripping from the stickLodged on its fangsAs the man with the green jacketWalked sternly with the money bagOn his right handThe grandmotherStrolling on the boardwalkFelt face first on the flagstoneWhen I approached herAnd asked if she was okayShe raised her arms towards meI reached for her forearmsAnd picked her upAnd she looked at me and said thank youThis timeThere was no needFor an ambulance

  • 3 Nov 2009 | 7:00 am

    3 Nov 2009 | 7:00 am
    DAIRY PRODUCTSI want go to Cabo San Lucas he saidI have family thereAnd work is goodI told himThe Americans & EuropeansManaged that point of the peninsulaI told himThat things there areDifferent from the mainlineThere’s a better infrastructureBut this is because the cityIs surrounded by salt waterI wished him good luckAnd asked him to show me the exitTo the amusement parkHe said:Follow that tunnelBut don’t get distracted
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    Me~Tronome

  • Arizona Fuzz

    29 Oct 2009 | 11:48 am
    The poemdoes not lie to us. We lie underits law, alive in the glamour of this hour—John WienersDo roses skipping in theGlass make great gifts, I micTheir contours, wipe innocenceFrom the window, these milkMansions. Arizona fuzz catchesGreen fish coming upFromBeing hunted, herDevouring dawns, withinGnawing hiatus shed. ThisGlamorous tongue noticed,Will arrest all secrets.We stash strangeButterflies arePuzzles of our former lives.But he is elephant. ThatException and theSurrounding meadowIts tender symmetry.On repeat, the choralStillness, yet the siren’s panacheMakes stew of our…

  • Series A, mini-conference, "Poetry and Place"

    28 Oct 2009 | 1:03 pm
    I had an opportunity to discuss new Chicago poetry at a recent conference with Garin Cycholl and Ray Bianchi as part of Bill Allegrezza's Series A poetry reading series at the Hyde Park Art Center.Click here to access the sound file. Frank O'Hara's work loomed large in my mind as I considered how to respond to the idea of Poetry and Place.

  • Don’t Miss This Special Event at Columbia

    15 Oct 2009 | 8:25 am
    Don’t Miss This Special Event at Columbia College, Chicago:Poetry and Music, a creATive TaLKSince Kenneth Rexroth first collaborated with jazz musicians (but then Jelly Roll Morton claimed to have collaborated with authors, as well) poetry and music have enjoyed a special relationship. The category ranges far and wide: Brecht's Threepenny Opera, Allen Ginsberg's manic rock combos, modern hip-hop, the singer-songwriter tradition of troubadors such as Bob Dylan and Lou Reed …. the relationship between music and poetry has been percolating for generations. Sit in with these artists as they…

  • Myopic Books Poetry Schedule

    13 Oct 2009 | 7:36 am
    We've updated the Myopic Books Poetry Series calendar ... please note that the Kent Johnson/Linh Dinh reading occurs on a Saturday~! Myopic Books has the widest selection of used books in the city.All readings begin at 7 pm. Thanks, LarryUPCOMINGSaturday, October 24 - Kent Johnson & Linh DinhSunday, November 1 - Roberto Harrison, Tom Hibbard & Chuck StebeltonSunday, November 8 - Matthew Klane & Jennifer ScappettoneSunday, November 15 - Eileen Myles & Guest**************************THE MYOPIC POETRY SERIES — a weekly series of readings and occasional poets' talksMyopic Books in Chicago —…

  • On the New Chicago Poetry

    6 Oct 2009 | 9:09 am
    The quote by Reginald Shepherd included by Robert Archambeau on Adam Fieled’s blog in an old blog post gave my morning a jumpstart, along with my morning cup of sacred bean squeezings“T. S. Eliot said that the poet must be as intelligent as possible; Wallace Stevens said that the poem must resist the intelligence almost successfully. It is in the play between the intelligence of language and the resistance to intelligence of language as an object that poetry occurs. What matters is not what a poem can say, a preoccupation Harold Bloom shares with the multiculturalists he so despises, but…
 
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    negative wingspan

  • so i'm killing people

    6 Nov 2009 | 5:06 pm
    what am i thinking?i am thinking life is not that great.i am thinking they have had enoughmaybe used it poorlyi am thinking the end of my lifeshould equal the end of someone else'sand this is where i've been taughtmy life is more valuablenow,,,,,,,I wonder

  • big bertha

    5 Nov 2009 | 12:05 pm
    is a dominatrixnot a mammysee her riding cropher magic wandher satin knickersshe is a superheroalways a double-lifesometimes a doublewife, unfulfilledher brain is ticker-tapewhat she wants iswhat you cannot wanta casket full ofsnakes, a featherin her cap like macaroni

  • on big bertha

    4 Nov 2009 | 12:52 pm
    here is a familymother father babygirlmother has on red things you cannot seefather is a raperbabygirl a ditz a ditz a ditzand here is a machinewas daddy bad before he fed the monster coins? was I always so easy?one thing I do know: mom had on those skivvies before we ever metthe nickleodeon

  • 25 Oct 2009 | 3:34 pm

    25 Oct 2009 | 3:34 pm
    One waits for results. One wonders is love dead. One's positive she deserves this, whatever this is, because no matter what, this is comprised of the same as shit. Shit has always defined her. Remember owl offal. How that was the fluffy place one first understood "offensive," smelling, forward, but also much-informed by the life studied. One studies life. One marries someone who studies life by killing it. Art is regularly destruction. The idea, death, makes vivid. One says of course but certain events heighten this: birth, tests, taking a crap, blood. It is so so ordinary. One wonders about…

  • overheard

    20 Oct 2009 | 4:09 am
    To scrub the soul: Ego-Friendly Wish Detergent
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    rooted

  • scrawled sheet of paper

    4 Nov 2009 | 6:21 pm
    a sheet of paper drifts awaythe child's scrawl on the refrigerator doorwith the sounds of laughtermingles into the buzzing of the kitchen gadgetsI stare above the microwaveday-dreaming of harmoniousspaces invaded by the scent of foodI look beyond the obvioustowards that broken chair in the corneremptiness speaks of untold secretsin that darkened spot behind the kitchen door"what does that dried blood suggest to me?"

  • flames of karma

    4 Nov 2009 | 1:53 am
    I walked and walkedthe flames beckoned mehow could I not obey?when I went right through the partingI stubbed my toes on the whithered logsfell headlong into the middleI became less and less.when ashes rose out of me.I could see nothingnessas light passed through me-karma had made me resplendentfor you, them and the heaven

  • collectibles

    1 Nov 2009 | 1:03 am
    in the midst of my booksI place precious somethingyou must be thinking of bookmarksyes, I do collect those tooalong with scraps of papermatchboxes, coins,black and white pictures of movie starsyet, those count for nothingI collect memories too, whichan angel holds in its arms for me,and gives me back when I so desire

  • deathly adventure

    31 Oct 2009 | 8:32 am
    it happened this way.but you can hear Death's own gentle voice.you do not turn to look at her. I would not advise it. if you do turn, she might smile at you.her smile not a child's smile, or a woman's smile. she will tell your story, "it happened this way- I was on the road. I could be anywhere. does it matter which road? it is small, cobbled and potholed; it lead from one place to another horses trot there,. dogs mark their places; so why not I?"pausing, Death twirls her skirt. sometimes she likes playing a mortal. it amuses her. you wait for her to continueyou barely ever notice the shift…

  • the highs, the lows

    28 Oct 2009 | 5:00 pm
    she lets her hands be her eyesslowly shaping the contoursshe lets herself pour over itthe softness changing into hardnesscontrolling each movementshe can feel each of the nuancesthe highs, the lowsexactitude of pressurewhen she achieves her utmost desireshe opens her eyessmilesat what is beneath her hands"her master piece is readywhen the potter's wheel stops"
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    something katy

  • two likes

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:36 am
    collaborate daily figure

  • nordic trapper

    5 Nov 2009 | 9:49 am
    trapped in an Icelandic cafewith nothing but vanilla beansand shapely women in grey dressesand hard-toed suede bootsdrawing on the scents of ritualand Nordic explorerswho left their genetic markvisible by the blond baristabehind the chest-high counterwhere you ordered your fifth petite fourand another round of lattesfor the Austrian studentswho missed their connection to Vancouver

  • good november, my dear

    1 Nov 2009 | 10:31 am
    woken up to the inspirationof six remaining Macintosh applesfrom the party he threw last nighttheir skin loose, begging to be peeledand the flour at the readyfor sifting and mixingthe tingle and swift smell of all spicenutmeg and cinnamon tangled between soft slices of baked applefilling the house with wooden spoon spun wonderon the first morning of a favorable monthgood morning, November,good

  • on perfection

    29 Oct 2009 | 8:47 am
    we do what makes marriages consummate and contentedand follow it up with seven perfect hours of sleep

  • whoopie with rose marshmallow filling

    18 Oct 2009 | 5:36 pm
 
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    They Shoot Poets - Don't They?

  • Two For Tuesday

    13 Oct 2009 | 1:19 pm
    Canadian Eh?

  • Autumn in Quebec

    12 Oct 2009 | 12:09 pm

  • Even More Canadiana

    5 Oct 2009 | 9:03 am

  • Reprise: Jane Mead

    3 Oct 2009 | 5:50 am
    Concerning That Prayer I Cannot MakeJane Mead Jesus, I am cruelly lonelyand I do not know what I have donenor do I suspect that you will answer me.And, what is more, I have spentthese bare months bargainingwith my soul as if I could make herpromise to love me when now it seemsthat what I meant when I said "soul"was that the river reflectsthe railway bridge just as the skysays it should-it speaks that language.I do not know who you are.I come here every dayto be beneath this bridge,to sit beside this river,so I must have seen the waythe clouds just slideunder the rusty arch-without snagging on…

  • Classic Canadian Rock

    21 Sep 2009 | 1:59 pm
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    this is all your fault

  • 2 Nov 2009 | 9:25 pm

    2 Nov 2009 | 9:25 pm
    The UnbornTentative, mucky,very wet, very red,their fingersgrab our danglingearrings in ourdreams of drowning.Wailinglike distant wars,like distant animalambulances, they pawthrough our sock drawers,our stacks of photographs.Sticky, miniature-thumbed,reeking of rose talcand rancid butter,they stain our bed posts,our sheets, our rearviewmirrors. They murmur,murmur in the corner,mouthing button

  • 25 Oct 2009 | 12:43 pm

    25 Oct 2009 | 12:43 pm
    Birds Clearly Don't Understand Glasswe wouldn't admit it, but in your pocket slept three baby grackles and a large blacksnake as you stood near the winter swimming pool, like a little mother, but with fur,a lightweight skeleton, hollow bones, the age-old bell on the collar, your large palms spread with shelled peanuts, sunflower seeds, red millet, white millet

  • 14 Oct 2009 | 8:52 pm

    14 Oct 2009 | 8:52 pm
    My therapist tells me we have to work on "my problem with biting."1) I wish I could tell you the truth about this; my jaw has been wired shut more than once.My boyfriend is bruised and a little embarrassed.My front tooth is loose and it hurts when I drinkmy tea.The sheets are in the dryer already. No one heardanything.I give them names. They recede in the light.I wish I could say I went away,

  • 9 Oct 2009 | 4:36 am

    9 Oct 2009 | 4:36 am
    White ShirtsWhile you sleep, I watch a movie. A man bangs his head against a shelf in a library. It's the magazine section: I can almost tell the year of the movie from the magazine titles. I love the image of white shirts hanging on a clothesline, as long as it's not in my backyard.He picks scabs into the backs of his hands, and tapes old pictures of tigers all over his mirror. He ends up

  • 1 Oct 2009 | 6:09 am

    1 Oct 2009 | 6:09 am
    NeighborsThe boy two doorsdown likes to bite,too, but his mothermakes him eat soapafter, and so throughthe summer-propped windows we hear their struggles in the bathroom, his shrieks as she grabshis mouth, the slippingas he knocks the brightyellow lozenge from herhand, and then sobsfor hours, a strangledsound like a lawnmowerstuck on a plastic toy.One day there's an ambulancein their driveway,
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    Uncle David

  • The blazing stars in a jet black sky

    3 Nov 2009 | 3:26 am
    The blazing stars in a jet black skyThe vapor of a airplaneThe moon is riding highI wish that I had wingsThe memento of my raising breathSometime I expect to dieThe cool drift of a late autumn nightThe hurry of cars passing byI meander pass the hassle of rageAnd the dominate of shadesThat cut like a gentle blazeTo be outside I pay the costOf a heavy rain that is lost56 now my yearsHalf way toward death I have no fearThe stars are like needle pointsThe milky way died by the street lightsI am secured in what is rightThat God is a God of day and nightThe diversity of lifeIs given proofThat…

  • The eternal bloom of my spirit is tied

    2 Nov 2009 | 1:03 pm
    The eternal bloom of my spirit is tiedTo my body which is perishableThe final loss of my thoughts is sufficientEnough for me to loose my life.I am persistent to live itImmediately by the breath.The masterful ramification of the diversityOf my thoughts is moving pass the poetic beginningOf my experiences.I am entangle with the world, assimilated With its rain drops that overspill theHigh pressure of my depression.I am no afterthought of natureI was not born by change.My body is a machine of flesh, blood and bonesInsignificance against the whole.Man clusters himself in cities and pondersHis…

  • Self-concisions of my boundaries

    1 Nov 2009 | 9:49 am
    Self-concisions of my boundariesI set my imagination free.Discretely it went progressingThrough the dark streets, its tendencyOverriding the obliteration of myCategorizing soul full of spiritualityOf the self comprehensiveness.Then I was a man of radianceWith my organized darkness of my skinAnd the suspension that drained me awake.My sleep with its tentacles dreams organizedMy chaos of all my permitted knowledge.In sleep we loose our composure of consciousnessAnd our criticized silent of intermediacy.In my dream I reconciled myself with the Most HighOf the possibilities of holy focus and…

  • I was running pass a hassle

    31 Oct 2009 | 12:58 pm
    I was running pass a hassleAlmost sure that the sufficientMotion of my tendentious sorrowWas jet black with shimming provisionalBronze intimacies hardened by purplishCommon place hesitation wrought from myHopeless periphery.Motion was crowding in around meLike an unfolding translating of the intuitionsUsed to measure the capacity of being human.Crossing over into a heaven devoid of pollenThere was a certain point that motionMeant to make on the focus of my bones.I was switching between the joint of a cryAnd the juice of a rose dulled by the cold windsBlowing its tragic definition into thePink…

  • Running like a deranged orange

    31 Oct 2009 | 10:48 am
    Running like a deranged orangeI came across an excellence garrulity of blueLooking for the fragment of definitionIn the selfishness of a lost item wounded byThe radiance of the tendencies of being a noveltyAll the color of the sun is worthy of inspiredSavagery and the harmonious water penetratingThe invisible archipelago swimming theCourse of reconsidered configuration ofWithered feelings catching the shade of a dead skyAre biting the edge of the highway that lead you to theImportance of strange cycles of the moonSitting in the shade of being soaked to the skin.The pecking order of man’s…
 
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    Watermark

  • My Mother

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    26 Oct 2009 | 9:47 am
    BETTY LOU JULIAN [BROGAN] SERR Betty Lou Julian Serr  died October 12, 2009  in Chandler, AZ.    She was born in Long Beach, California July 5, 1924, the daughter of Bob & Georgia (Kenney) Julian.  She went to Montana as a baby  with her parents and resided on a ranch near Clyde Park until the age of ten, when the family moved to a ranch near Wilsall,MT.   She attended schools in Clyde Park and Wilsall, graduating from Wilsall High School in 1942.  She attended computer school in Spokane, Washington, then worked for the Northern Pacific Railroad.  In 1945 Betty married Richard…

  • Confession

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    30 Aug 2009 | 2:18 pm
    What do you bring to the confessional? Wasted hours; a kind thing undone, and another, and another; or some singular crime, a thought or deed that left a wound, some innocent bereft of confidence and cheer? Have you taken what was not yours to keep; kissed one not yours to claim? Or is it deeper, darker than these? Did you see your path was cold and steep, so turn an easier way? Have you scoured your heart of love, set it to harden in a kiln of rage? Drop it on the tiles, then. Let it break.   

  • Been to an Emergency Room lately?

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    19 Aug 2009 | 8:02 pm
    Perhaps, like me, you live in a town, rather than a city or poor rural area, and assume that things are like they used to be at your local emergency hospital. That's what I assumed, if I thought about it at all. Five hours in the emergency room with a friend (she's fine now) has cleared up that misconception. I shot that sign, above, during our wait. The sign says -- for those who can't see the image -- Thank you for your patience. The Emergency Department is experiencing unusually high patient volumes. This is causing delays.It certainly is. For the entire time, I kept hoping, not only that…

  • unearth -- RWP minichallenge III

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    9 Aug 2009 | 8:25 pm
    I'm posting all three parts here, because I think it is one poem.  Also, just to say -- this exercise has resulted in something much different than my usual. Whether this is a good or a bad thing, I can't yet tell: I. the walls are filled with the lives of children what appears to be an exit changes to a trap you have everything to lose oil rainbows the water, a thin & dangerous sheen that pain you call love pulls you away there is no point in stopping in the middle of the mountain road an old woman walks in the wrong direction she is thin & frail, she wears a red coat years have…

  • unearth -- RWP minichallenge II

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    7 Aug 2009 | 4:24 pm
    this is how it happens static in a closed room an electrical hum I open my hand sparks escape from my palm, crackling like petting a cat in the dark you reach out & touch my face a cradle, a caress it's warm there, where our skins meet unearth -- RWP minichallenge I    poetry mini-challenge
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    mygorgeoussomewhere.org

  • the point

    The point is this: contemporary poetry, as the massive and unwieldy thing it is, should be encouraged to re-shape our realities. Why bother consuming information that simply reinforces the things we already know and feel? (Click on the excerpt to read the entire piece.)

  • what

    What prolongs anger through dispensation of subdermal shocks. What longs to scrape callouses along the inside of another. What calls hunger ravening and calls ravening entitlement. What hangs by hooks in its back for hours without wincing. What spreads pine needles to mark boundaries. What burns like bread in the oven. What sets down an orderly ...

  • though i wish the ending were a little stronger, i do love the sentiment of the americorps oath

    I took this oath last week. I'm not so hot on the "America" part, since I would like to think more globally than that, but hey. It's AmeriCorps. It's not WorldCorps, after all. AmeriCorps oath of service I will get things done for America, to make our people safer, smarter, and healthier. I ...

  • mutating the signature work continues

    Nathan Moore and I are continuing to work on the process section of the Untelling Stories issue of Mutating the Signature. That means we are generating lots of material that we can refine and reorganize later, when we enter the curating section of the issue. Things are shaping up nicely. Poems, ...

  • i love tao lin

    Tao Lin at Copperfield's Books from Melville House on Vimeo.
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    Read Write Poem

  • read write prompt #100: turning dreams into poetry, by celebrity poet bruce covey

    Read Write Poem
    5 Nov 2009 | 10:00 pm
    by Bruce Covey Bruce Covey Explores Dreams and Poetry “The structure of dreams makes for lousy poetry — the associational and tangential but linear structure of the form is so overdetermined.”       Dreams are so entertaining! But the structure of dreams makes for lousy poetry — the associational and tangential but linear structure of the form is so overdetermined (a rhetoric everyone experiences daily, then tries to repress!) that the imagery quickly becomes flat and dull. Or we tend to bring our Freud- and Jung-inspired critical tools into the fray,…

  • get your poem on #99

    Read Write Poem
    4 Nov 2009 | 10:00 pm
    by Andre Tan What did it feel like to tell a story without literally describing what happens? Did writing to this week’s prompt come easily to you, or did it end up being a drama or comedy of errors? Let everyone know how it went, and share your work in the comments! Please read this page to find out how the Get Your Poem On and Read Write Prompt posts work. Remember that work linked from this post is shared in precisely that spirit: sharing, as opposed to critiquing. To learn more about how to respond to work that is being shared versus critiqued, read this page. If you haven’t done…

  • hey, lookie, we’ve got featured group activities!

    Read Write Poem
    4 Nov 2009 | 3:15 pm
    We have many special-interest poetry groups at Read Write Poem, and just about every one has a special monthly or weekly activity. So to help keep track of all the action, we’re highlighting upcoming group prompts and activities at the top of the homepage (in the left sidebar). There’s something new happening almost every day! Be sure to come back often and find out what’s happening in your groups, or see what others might be doing and get on their poetry wagon! A special thank you to all the group leaders who have committed to bringing special poetry opportunities to their…

  • 100% honest day (poetry edition)

    Read Write Poem
    3 Nov 2009 | 9:00 pm
    by Deb Scott Back in August, not long after the debut of the new Read Write Poem and its kicking community forum, we published the very first installment in the 100% Honest Day (Poetry Edition) column. (That’s the one where we invited you to post 100% honest comments.) You guys loved it. We loved it. There were 192 comments over the course of a week. And remarkably, there were no anonymous comments. Every comment came with a named author; every comment was written by one of you, our community members! That’s fascinating because we invited you to post anonymously, if need be. And…

  • poetry mini-challenge: build-a-poem

    Read Write Poem
    2 Nov 2009 | 9:00 pm
    by Carolee Sherwood and Jill Crammond Wickham On our recent trip to the Massachusetts Poetry Festival, we attended a reading by Afaa Michael Weaver. The highlight of the reading was a 10-section poem from his current manuscript. Each section of the poem was used to explore a singular theme from a variety of angles, viewpoints and perspectives — very much like Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself. As Weaver’s deep voice faded out at the end of each section, we waited expectantly to see how the next would unfold. This would be perfect, we thought, for our November Mini-Challenge — five…
 
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    Silliman's Blog

  • 6 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm

    6 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm
    Lewis Turco, Morton Marcus & Vern Rutsala at Robinson Jeffer’s Tor House 2006 Morton Marcus 1936 2009

  • 5 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm

    5 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm
    So does the fact that what the Phillies have accomplished in the past three years – three Eastern Division championships, two National League championships, one World Championship – is more than the San Francisco Giants, the team of my youth, have accomplished in their 51 years in the Baghdad by the Bay, make up for my disappointment on Wednesday? No. Not really. Already the mind starts to ponder just what the Phillies will need to do next year to (a) get back to the World Series and (b) be better than the Yankees (or whomever) when they get there. Seven of their eight everyday players…

  • 4 Nov 2009 | 10:35 pm

    4 Nov 2009 | 10:35 pm
    What it came down to, finally, was the fact that the Phillies almost never use the exaggerated shift that was created originally to counter the late Ted Williams, the apotheosis of the left-handed pull hitter, with the third baseman taking over at short, the shortstop playing second, the second baseman playing a short right field so that the right fielder can more or less literally back up to the right field wall. After Williams retired, nearly 50 years ago, the shift disappeared until it was resurrected against Barry Bonds during his enhanced era. Now it gets done by a lot of clubs on a…

  • 3 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm

    3 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm
    Photo by Irving Penn, 1970 Claude Lévi-Strauss 1908 2009 “Writing is a strange invention. One might suppose that its emergence could not fail to bring about profound changes in the conditions of human existence, and that these transformations must of necessity be of an intellectual nature…. Yet nothing we know about writing and the part it has played in man’s evolution justifies this view.” – A Writing Lesson, Tristes Tropiques

  • 2 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm

    2 Nov 2009 | 9:01 pm
    C.A. Conrad & Dale Smith discuss Ed Dorn, AIDS & community § Kenny G: seeking to define “queer voice” in art § Rae Armantrout’s reading at Kelly Writers House Oct. 22, 2009 § 5 translations of Rimbaud’s “Voyelles” all by Christian Bök Gaga for Eunoia § 2 translations of Creeley’s “I Know a Man” § Jena Osman, Craig Watson, Michael Gizzi reading @ the Chapterhouse Café § Kit Robinson reading at Xavier University § Ben Friedlander responds to my post on his comments re Marianne Moore A third perspective, this one with reference to music § An account of the…
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    Poetry Hut Blog

  • Nashville Poetry Alert – Kate Greenstreet discussing and signing

    Jilly Dybka
    4 Nov 2009 | 2:35 am
    Title: Kate Greenstreet discussing and signingLocation: Davis-Kidd, NashvilleLink out: Click hereDescription: 2121 Green Hills Village Dr Nashville, TN 37215 615.385.2645 What happens when a person loses hope and yet still has the urge to make a photograph or draw with a stick in the dirt? Kate Greenstreet would like you to read this book as if you had found it left behind on the empty bus seat next to you—a document not directly addressing the question “Why do we make art,” but one that notices that one does make art, despite conditions, and that one would regardless. The Last 4 Things…

  • Nashville Poetry Alert – Shakespeare Allowed!

    Jilly Dybka
    3 Nov 2009 | 2:52 pm
    Title: Shakespeare Allowed!Location: Nashville Public Library DowntownLink out: Click hereDescription: The Merchant of Venice THE BEST WAY TO READ SHAKESPEARE’S PLAYS IS OUT LOUD AND WITH FRIENDS! The Nashville Shakespeare Festival invites you to read every play Shakespeare wrote, out loud in a reading circle. Start Time: 1pmDate: 2009-11-14End Time: 16:00 Autoposted from the Nashville Poetry Calendar If you've enjoyed this blog, how about buying me a cup of coffee?Copyright © 2009 This feed is for personal, non-commercial use only. The use of this feed on other websites breaches…

  • Nashville Poetry Alert – Room to Write Retreat

    Jilly Dybka
    31 Oct 2009 | 10:47 pm
    Title: Room to Write RetreatLocation: Scarritt-Bennett Center in NashvilleLink out: Click hereDescription: The goal of Room to Write is to provide participants with three days of uninterrupted writing time in the serene setting of Scarritt-Bennett’s beautiful, tree-lined campus. A meditation class, informal conversation time with experienced and published authors, and consulting opportunities with a professional book doctor will be available – but this is all optional. Participants can also just stay in their rooms and write, coming out just to share a meal and maybe a few moments of…

  • Nashville Poetry Alert – Poetry Radio Show: Difficult Listening

    Jilly Dybka
    30 Oct 2009 | 9:27 pm
    Title: Poetry Radio Show: Difficult ListeningLocation: Radio Free Nashville 98.9 or streaming audioLink out: Click hereDescription: Poetry Radio Show Difficult Listening David HarrisStart Time: 10:00amDate: 2009-11-01 Autoposted from the Nashville Poetry Calendar If you've enjoyed this blog, how about buying me a cup of coffee?Copyright © 2009 This feed is for personal, non-commercial use only. The use of this feed on other websites breaches copyright. If this content is not in your news reader, it makes the page you are viewing an infringement of the copyright. (Digital Fingerprint:…

  • Poetry News For October 29, 2009

    Jilly Dybka
    28 Oct 2009 | 10:00 pm
    I had this post pretty much ready to go, so I went ahead & scheduled it. Thanks for your good wishes. — Hans Ulrich Obrist, named the most influential figure in the art world, calls for more links between poetry and painting — — Oregon Book Awards honor new writers, veteran winners — — “You are Killing our Artistes and Celebrating it!”: Derek Walcott — — When poetry goes bad, on purpose — — Walt Whitman in a Levi’s commercial – genius or disgrace? — — Eileen Myles has been called “our Gertrude Stein”…
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    Poet Hound

  • Poetry Tips: Poetry Calendar

    6 Nov 2009 | 3:58 am
    Some people give out calendars for Christmas Gifts using family pictures, etc. Why not create your own gift calendar only with poems? Whether they are poems you find inspiring by other writers or your own, you could pick one poem per month, by week, or if you have more time on your hands than I do, a poem each day! I would pick Edgar Allen Poe for October, Robert Frost in December, just for an example. Or I may take my own poems, or create a mix of both. Either way, you can print the calendar pages using the web and then pair them up with poems, then find a way to fasten them together in a…

  • 95 Notes Open Submissions

    5 Nov 2009 | 3:58 am
    Accepts Poetry year-round and publishes twice a year! I would recommend sending 3 poems with your contact information included in the e-mail and titling your submission “Poetry/last name”“Editorial Focus95Notes is a platform designed to showcase higher quality creative writing and artwork. 95Notes is an independent literary magazine started by Chicago State University writers to represent creative writers within the literary community. All creative minds are encouraged to submit their work to 95Notes@gmail.com. Tips from the EditorPlease send all submissions as attachments. “Shaunwell…

  • Poems Found by Poet Hound

    4 Nov 2009 | 3:58 am
    http://arseniclobster.magere.com/200901.htmlCypresses by Davide Tramehttp://www.versedaily.org/2009/yearsaway.shtmlIn England Away by Lois WilliamsThanks for clicking in, please drop by tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

  • Giggle Poetry

    2 Nov 2009 | 3:57 am
    Whether you are a parent, a teacher, or someone who enjoys good clean fun, this is a wonderful site for children sure to bring a smile to their face as well as to yours:http://www.gigglepoetry.com/Thanks for clicking in, please excuse me for not having had enough time over the weekend to prepare a post for tomorrow’s usual featured poet, please stop in on Wednesday for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

  • Poetry Tips: Seek Advice

    30 Oct 2009 | 3:58 am
    Never be afraid to seek advice from other writers, especially if you enjoy their work. While small press poets seem to be more easily accessible, it never hurts to write the ones in “the big leagues” who have a major publisher behind them. Some writers have a web-site with an e-mail address and it is a convenient way to get in touch with them, just be sure to be sincere and do not feel letdown if you do not receive a response. Sometimes e-mails get lost, or there may be so many e-mails the author or poet cannot respond quickly. Otherwise, you can always write to the publisher with the…
 
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    The Best American Poetry

  • Much Depends on Dinner: Cooking with Shaindel Beers

    Best American Poetry
    6 Nov 2009 | 6:28 am
    Here's our second post in what I hope will be an ongoing series featuring writers who cook. If you would like to contribute, please send me an e-mail at bestampo@gmail.com. Shaindel Beers and I have never met but we're Facebook...

  • Watching Students Eat

    Catharine Stimpson
    5 Nov 2009 | 8:20 pm
    Gone are the great public events of the last days---Halloween, the Marathon, the election, the World Series. The great crowds they drew have dissipated. The prosy days of mundanity return. For a glimpse of ordinary public life, go watch college...

  • Wanted: A Poet for 11/3/09 [by Catharine Stimpson]

    Catharine Stimpson
    4 Nov 2009 | 6:16 pm
    I long for a poet who can beat out some stanzas about November 3, 2009, in the United States, the day of an off-year, off-kilter election. Some clumps and clusters of citizens went to the polls. The results that we...

  • A Bleacher of One's Own [by Catharine Stimpson]

    Catharine Stimpson
    3 Nov 2009 | 3:45 pm
    My neighbor in the elevator was giddy with excitement on Monday, November 2. He was on his way to Philadelphia. His family had tickets for the 5th game of the World Series between the Phillies and the Yankees. He was...

  • Ken Tucker on "Poetry You Need to Read"

    Best American Poetry
    3 Nov 2009 | 1:13 pm
    Poetry you need to read: Robert Polito's 'Hollywood & God' and Amy Gerstler's 'Dearest Creature' by Ken Tucker Hear, hear!
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    Harriet

  • Buffer Zone Galactica -- Edwin Torres

    Edwin Torres
    6 Nov 2009 | 6:33 pm
    Reading with Will Alexander at the Poetry Project recently was a fabulous experience. One of the layers I walked away with was his between-poem chatter-as-parable. I’m more from the camp of letting the work explain what it has to, so I almost never say a word between each piece—the entire reading being one performance—the weave of narrative / abstract / performative / traditional being enough of a dynamic filter for me to let the work speak for itself. But that’s also a cop-out, I’m not the best storyteller in the traditional Hemmingway sense, my stories find themselves…

  • Poemsinging -- John S. O'Connor

    John S. O'Connor
    6 Nov 2009 | 4:41 pm
    Like many people, my interest in poetry grew out of my interest in music. As a listener, I love the thoughtful lyrics of songwriters like Joe Henry, Rennie Sparks from The Handsome Family, Chuck D, Gershwin. Regardless of the song-genre, great lyrics hit me first.  My interest in reading poetry came about in a much sneakier way. I took voice classes in college and unwittingly sang art songs derived from poems. (One teacher marveled — in what I’m still not sure was a compliment — at my “gift” at turning any art song into a country tune). I had no idea that the…

  • Indie Publishing: Two Questions, Many More Answers -- Barbara Jane Reyes

    Barbara Jane Reyes
    6 Nov 2009 | 3:23 pm
    Many thanks to Brent E. Beltrán and Consuelo Manríquez de Beltrán of Calaca Press, Patrick Durgin of Kenning Editions, and Willie Perdomo of Cypher Books for their responses to my indie publishing questions. I know my current series of posts (#1 | #2) on indie publishing isn’t garnering heaps of Harriet comments, which is fine, because I do know these posts are generating good conversation, and that others about small presses and independent publishing are happening elsewhere in poet e-world. Over at HTMLGIANT, Rauan Klassnik asks, “What’s Right and What’s Wrong with the…

  • a question on hearing -- Anselm Berrigan

    Anselm Berrigan
    4 Nov 2009 | 2:47 pm
    I’ll be heading to Tulsa, Oklahoma tomorrow to take part in The Tulsa School Conference & Literary Festival that Grant Jenkins has organized through The University of Tulsa. Never been there, but my father, Ted Berrigan, was stationed in Tulsa after the Korean War and wound up enrolling in TU via the G.I. Bill. There he met Ron Padgett, Dick Gallup, and Joe Brainard, who were all in high school and thus was born the “soi-disant Tulsa School”, which is no school – even less material a school than the New York School which, as a traveler through the very real New York public school…

  • Joe -- Melissa Friedling

    Melissa Friedling
    4 Nov 2009 | 12:15 pm
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    One Poet's Notes

  • Alfred Corn: "Swiss Army Knife"

    2 Nov 2009 | 10:16 pm
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Alfred Corn’s “Swiss Army Knife,” which appears in the special tenth anniversary issue (Volume XI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Alfred Corn has published nine books of poetry, a novel, and two collections of critical essays, the most recent titled Atlas: Selected Essays, 1989-2007, published last year by the University of Michigan Press. He has received a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, a Guggenheim Fellowship, and a Fellowship from the Academy of American Poets. He spends part of every year in London.Tuesday of each week “One Poet’s…

  • Baseball and Poetry: David Citino

    1 Nov 2009 | 10:11 pm
    Who in the world do you think you are?Last night, while watching the World Series with my son, I recalled the famous photograph of Marianne Moore throwing a first pitch at Yankee Stadium, and I considered all the allusions to baseball I had seen in poems or essays by poets over the years, some of which are chronicled at one of the Poetry Foundation’s pages devoted to baseball and verse. I also remembered references to baseball as a metaphor for life lessons, including studying poetry, a perspective particularly offered repeatedly by the late poet David Citino, who died of complications from…

  • Happy Halloween!

    31 Oct 2009 | 7:00 am

  • Best of the Web: VPR Nominations

    29 Oct 2009 | 8:23 am
    I am pleased to announce Valparaiso Poetry Review’s nominations for the upcoming Best of the Web anthology from Dzanc Books, an annual collection described as “representing in book form the best literary writing online magazines have to offer.” I have been privileged to report in the past that works from Valparaiso Poetry Review have been chosen to be among those published in previous editions of Best of the Web.The editors invite up to three nominated works for submission by each online literary journal. As I have mentioned in the past, I maintain a high regard for every poem selected…

  • Dorianne Laux: "Mine Own Phil Levine"

    26 Oct 2009 | 10:13 pm
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Dorianne Laux’s “Mine Own Phil Levine,” which appears in the special tenth anniversary issue (Volume XI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.Dorianne Laux is the author of four collections of poetry. She is also the coauthor, with Kim Addonizio, of The Poet’s Companion. Among her awards are a Pushcart Prize, two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, and a Guggenheim fellowship. What We Carry (BOA Editions, 1994) was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. Her fourth book of poems, Facts about the Moon (W.W. Norton, 2007),…
 
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    Poetic Asides

  • 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 6

    6 Nov 2009 | 5:59 am
    Wow! We're already 20% of the way through this here challenge. Those who are behind or just getting started still have plenty of time to catch up, and those who've been keeping up can feel pretty good about the progress they've already made. And it's Friday! Yay! For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem with (or about) someone (or something) covered. A person could be covered with a blanket or blanketed with darkness. Something could be covered by water or earth or anything you can think, I guess. Or you could write a poem about how you "have it covered," I suppose. Here's my attempt…

  • 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 5

    5 Nov 2009 | 6:13 am
    Over on Twitter, @taunalen created a hashtag for everyone to communicate about the November PAD Chapbook Challenge easily. The hashtag is #novpad. Just use the search box on the right-hand side of the Twitter application and search for novpad and you can participate in an ongoing conversation that might even go into January (as everyone revises and organizes their actual chapbook manuscripts). Use the hashtag to share comments/critiques of posted poems, links to your November PAD Chapbook Challenge poems on your personal blogs, revision tips, and whatever else springs to mind. …

  • 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 4

    4 Nov 2009 | 5:52 am
    Everyone's doing a great job so far! I'm already getting excited to see what kind of manuscripts will be trickling in during December and January. For today's prompt, I want you to take the phrase "Maybe (blank)," replace the (blank) with a word or phrase, and write a poem using that new phrase as your title. Some example titles: "Maybe we really did need a bigger boat," "Maybe next time you'll listen to me," "Maybe never," "Maybe baby," and so on. Here's my attempt for the day: "Maybe my pulse" A plane passes low so that I wonder if it will clear the trees. Seriously, an asteroid could…

  • 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 3

    3 Nov 2009 | 6:16 am
    Well, I finally have Internet access again today. What a rough start to the challenge! On a positive note, I'm glad Brian was helping out, because he's the WritersDigest.com editor and was able to get everything working faster on Day 1 as a result. Just some super duper bad timing. Ugh! Today is a Tuesday, which means it's a "Two for Tuesday" prompt day. You can choose your favorite prompt; you can write one poem for each prompt; and/or you can blend the two prompts together. Your choice. Prompt #1: Write a positive poem. Like how great writing a poem a day through November is. Prompt #2:…

  • 2009 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 2

    2 Nov 2009 | 5:25 am
    Please continue thanking WritersDigest.com editor Brian Klems for posting today’s prompt for me. Yesterday, my brother had his wedding in Ohio, which I’m sure I’ll post about on my personal blog later this week, and today I’m on the road with Tammy and Baby Will traveling down I-75 back to Georgia. But to get back to Brian, please send him one more very enthusiastic “Thanks!” and visit one (or both) of his blogs if you don’t already: The Life of Dad (http://thelifeofdad.com) and Questions & Quandaries (http://blog.writersdigest.com/qq/). ***** For today’s prompt, I want…
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    Poetry Freedom

  • Death by… Humans

    forever unloved
    12 Oct 2009 | 4:24 pm
    What’s worth fighting for, if you die trying to get it? Is it worth leaving your family for, not knowing if you’re going to come back in one piece, or come back at all? For some it is, for some it’s not. Who caused this hellish nightmare? Humans, yes, people did. Did we mean to [...]

  • In the Dark

    forever unloved
    12 Oct 2009 | 12:53 pm
    I stood alone in the dark, only me and my broken heart. While you go joke around with your friends, it feels like this torture will never end. I go home slam the door, flop on my bed and cry some more. I look at my clock it’s been two hours, so I go and take a [...]

  • best buds

    forever unloved
    11 Oct 2009 | 5:53 pm
    Just hanging out, there’s no doubt that we’ll be friends forever. Just talk it out, just laugh it out, always spending time together. Every day that we want to play, we’ll walk and talk for hours. And all those times that I had cried, you dried my tears for me. So I just want you [...]

  • Beating broken heart

    forever unloved
    11 Oct 2009 | 4:44 pm
    This is Daniel, he stole my heart. When I told him, he tore it apart. He ripped it up, although doing it kindly, my happiness, my joy fell behind me. I went to the bathroom crying in pain, it feels like the world will never be the same. Your beauty still blinds me, so does the pain. [...]

  • Turning green to green

    Shubhrank mishra
    11 Oct 2009 | 6:43 am
                                  Turning green to green   Humans are becoming blind; the eyes are becoming to see green The God is loving green and so the human are loving the same   The soul is right by humans and no question to God, but Humans green is not perishable and no values of Gods green   I quick to realized I am inclining [...]
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    Dunstan Carter - Poetry

  • Someone Else’s Graffiti

    dunstancarter
    4 Nov 2009 | 3:47 pm
    She had a face like a photo-fit Or the kind you’d find on beer mats, A grimace from a court sketch, A frown all ridged and unwell. She was someone else’s graffiti, A stuttered chapel prayer, A feeling something’s never right, A dizzy, spinning moon. Poetry.net

  • Weekend Cottage

    dunstancarter
    30 Oct 2009 | 6:07 pm
    He’s electrified By dust cells, Stirring porridge By your side. Poetry.net

  • They Chattered Hatred

    dunstancarter
    30 Oct 2009 | 6:33 am
    They chattered hatred, It wasn’t paranoia, You could smell it in their hair, Burnt toffee and smoke, I stood on the periphery, Another unexplored argument, Awkward with shame And dizzy with doubt, I was one of them once. Poetry.net

  • A Sadness Resigned

    dunstancarter
    20 Oct 2009 | 3:46 pm
    I saw your eyes whispering Sad-hearted lullabies, Their heavy lids fluttering A makeshift release, You lay in bed Like a soft, settled sand dune, Pretending to sleep, A sadness resigned, There was nothing I could do, The summer had fallen Into bleak winter dreams, I took A long, cold Look at myself, I was begging. Poetry.net

  • Autumn

    dunstancarter
    18 Oct 2009 | 4:39 pm
    We wrote it on walls And the weather erased us Autumn was ruined Poetry.net
 
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    left 2 write

  • Glass 1/2 empty

    admin
    2 Nov 2009 | 9:56 pm
    “We spend so much time complaining about the glass being half empty that we forget to drink the half glass of water we do have.” - Mosaeus

  • Love 2.0

    mosaeus
    7 Oct 2009 | 11:46 am
    Joan: “He did it again, they all do I see why women blog about they hate men He thought love was for sale, some kinda eBay Torn to shreds I’m picking up pieces again. He treated me however he wanted to I’m crying-whining like sirens of policemen I can’t believe, no e-card, no apology He turns around and walks away like “peace kid”. Trying to figure out how I feel, I’m sunk Put myself out there, time to reel in. I took the deal damn, and fail-whaled like twit I wonder what other fish he was concealing. I need filled in, he cracked and bruised me Super glue no…

  • Animal Farm

    admin
    14 Aug 2009 | 3:42 pm
    My mama said there’d be days like this She aint say it was a rat race like this Slow trap for cheese, but hoodrats holler quick I kick it w/ my dogs who prefer the dark-meat chicks. Police escorts, pigs in four doors Napoleon complex, blue Ford Taurus This is Manor Farm, the man is slumlord Plantation 2.0, what you think the borders for?! But I’m ‘Boxer’, I will not forget The way they boxed us up like dumb pets I could spend my whole life rewinding regrets Or I could fast forward and become the vet. Veterinarian, as in metaphor for doctor In case that’s over…

  • Jack(ed) & Jill(ted)

    admin
    17 Jul 2009 | 7:28 am
    Tell me how to break-up, quit Someone you’ve never been “with” No relationship, just myth The relations continued forthwith. They never committed How did she acquit it? Not a mistake But she’ll admit it. The empty space was erased He filled it Floating in space, no inhibition. She was taken, so he hid it He felt forsaken Jacked and Jilted. His feelings jaded She felt guilty, but A stand-up guy His love never wilted. Goodbye, before hi It’s contrite, just not right How’d they end before they begin? Were they lovers or just friends? No chagrin.

  • Macintosha

    mosaeus
    5 Jun 2009 | 7:10 am
    iMac She’s so PC Told her to close Windows This is not PG. This is rated Macintosh, OS X I installed Parallels Virtual, yes! The best of both worlds Powered by Intel She gotta Dell on the side But him she won’t tell. Cause she likes my RAM 2.66 Gigahertz I don’t play around No m’am, iWork. Hush all the rumors No she’s not a cougar She’s a Snow Leopard Rocking brand new Pumas. The type to make you throw out Your little black book Make you replace it with A new black macbook. She gave me lap-dance Threw her legs in the air She lives in my lap(top) So…
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    the amplified bard

  • Spend Some Time with Artist Kabuki Katze

    5 Nov 2009 | 10:37 pm
    Speaking of watching other artists at work, graphic design artist, Kabuki Katze, maps out the process of working on the @Wired event flyer. @kabukikatze is the genius behind The Amplified Bard profile pics on Myspace and Facebook including the wonderful header to this blog. @KabukiKatze has always been wonderful in making her design process transparent i.e. allowing fans to see the stages of her work. She recently wrote a blog documenting her process working with the @wiredpoetry folks. Check it out at her blog.

  • Practice Night with Trills for @Wired

    5 Nov 2009 | 8:59 pm
    Tonight Trills and I worked on our performance for the @Wired event next week. I headed over to his apartment/studio to work on the timing and video images for our performance. I love collaborating with other artists because I am able to see them work in their element. Here is Trills and his son Caleb playing on the keyboard during a break:It blew me away to watch Trills turn various computer programs, keyboard riffs, and audio set-ups into an auditory explosion of nerves and uneasiness. Imagine what the tweeps involved with @wired i.e. @thepoetmendez, @byronjonesthepoet, @kabukikatze,…

  • Story of a Nerd and his destiny. Winner of Dreamhack 1998 Wild Compo

    4 Nov 2009 | 10:15 pm
    I found this great video about a nerd's life in the late 90's. What do you guys think? How would the video be made today? Would it probably still feature an addiction to porn? What about social media?

  • A Book About Nothing

    4 Nov 2009 | 1:06 pm
    “I love talking about nothing…. It is the only thing I know anything about.” —OSCAR WILDE“Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being–like a worm.” —JEAN-PAUL SARTREThe concept of Nothingness has always interested me ever since I read Sartre's magnum opus "Being and Nothingness," which inevitably led me into a brooding, existential phase in my life. I can remember after reading Camus or Beckett, I would naturally contemplate the nature of non-being, of essence and negation until my head throbbed from the banging of an ontological hammer. For something non-existent, this…

  • @Wired is now on Twitter!

    4 Nov 2009 | 9:14 am
    That's right poetry lovers and fellow geeks. @WiredPoetry is on Twitter. Stop by and check it out. I will be tweeting behind the scenes of @Wired: A Multimedia Explosion of Poetry, Music, Song and Image. I will also be tweeting live from the event, so be sure to follow @Wiredpoetry for more details and awesomeness.
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    Frozen well

  • If I were a baby again….

    Narendra
    6 Nov 2009 | 10:35 am
    All my life I worked finding the values of constants that haunted the science fraternity since ages.Many a time my works have found place in reputed journals,my speeches and presentations are till today quoted in major technical summits.several of my talks are considered as masterpiece and food for thought for the generations to come.My entire [...]

  • @mr.human–a sip of tea

    Narendra
    30 Oct 2009 | 7:33 am
    Times you think you look handsome, And you stand long mirroring the greats Mark my tweet I tell you that, These are the times you look funny Surpassing stupidity’s limits …. ~ It happened so that morning I walked into traffic boisterous, Dirty children running semi-nude, and With such poor a fashion sense In true sense of words a nuisance… ~ I am ready for #thechildcareproject Via [...]

  • Follow me-A 55 fiction

    Narendra
    28 Oct 2009 | 6:30 am
    55 Fiction is a form of micro fiction that refers to the works of fiction limited to a maximum of fifty-five words. Most 55 Fiction works are dramatized so as to get the effect in limited time.This is my first attempt at it. Her cab that night dropped her 55m away from where she resided. She [...]

  • @mr.human-Jab they met

    Narendra
    24 Oct 2009 | 9:41 am
    The usual way of me bumping into her, Our books falling, and note exchanges With smiles that fade quickly as we see, Each other and pretending not to see any Never happened when we met, ~ My mom tweeted me that day She was worried if I had my soup or otherwise I was worried as I hadn’t had any My furious mom blocked [...]

  • to WordPress..with Love…

    Narendra
    15 Oct 2009 | 7:00 am
    Alright this is a post dedicated to wordpress…No poems no stories just a visual treat..hope you all like it.. The Entire world in my hands and WORDPRESS in the entire world..Alright if you still couldn’t figure out why all this ,then here you are..this is for a fun WP logo competition Posted in random Tagged: [...]
 
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    Robert Peake

  • Success, Longevity, Consistency, Discipline, and Love

    Here is what I discovered myself thinking over breakfast--about success in the arts, and how it relates to loving the creative process: The secret to success is longevity The secret to longevity is consistency The secret to consistency is discipline The secret to discipline is love

  • Now Podcasting

    Last night, I recorded audio versions of the sample poems on my website. You can easily download these tracks (currently six) into iTunes® or another podcast reader using one of these options: Click here to subscribe using iTunes or, copy and paste this URL into your favorite podcast reader: http://feeds.robertpeake.com/PeakePodcast By subscribing now, ...

  • Sample Poems Available Online

    Due to frequent requests, I have made a small selection of sample poems available on this website to read online, download, or print. Having mentioned on public radio how much I prefer to have my work appear in a reader's lap, in a mindset more conducive to reading a poem ...

  • Poppin’ Johnny by George Wallace

    "what's a good american / boy to do after he's been / bitten by pandas?" -George Wallace, "Bitten by Pandas" Fellow Pacific MFA alumnus George Wallace recently sent me an autographed copy of his new book, Poppin' Johnny. It's terrific. These poems are anything but quiet. Like the cartoon call-outs when Batman hit ...

  • “Climb the Pine” to Remember the Bear

    I am not the only one for whom the bear seems to have left an indelible imprint. Each morning this week, when I step outside my door to go to to work, I see the silhouette of a bear in the pine tree just across the street. It looks just ...
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    E D I B L E    D E T R I T U S

  • Florence

    My favorite city in the world is Florence And not just any Florence but the tiny one On a shelf in a photograph from which I laugh At myself seated in a chair at a desk In an office that lacks Florence For an address, so that people when they come In to say hi or with a work-related question Sometimes wonder [...]

  • All Hallows

    Softly cursing in the graveyard on 4th Behind the church, an old man picks up detritus, The Halloween revelers vanished Like the years, overnight. He harvests more Than sticks, cupped leaves that creep along the brick walk Like hands, but wrappers, cans. Let screaming teens Have their carefree terror. With luck, ignorance Will last longer than they want, the truth Not haunt them [...]

  • Christina’s World

                                                                    After Wyeth Formulaic, her arms like sticks, she’s everybody’s Though I can’t like an object when I’m not painting Rectitude. This lady invites me Because she could be somebody else. I don’t really have studios. Women…

  • Le Juif En Vert

    “I had the impression that the old man was green; perhaps a shadow from my heart fell upon him.”                                                                 —Chagall The tender darkness grotesques him, bilious, alien, One eye wide, the other squinting [...]

  • Early Sunday Morning

                                                          After Hopper Brick apartments with a shade or cloned pair Of blank curtains, the middle dark between them Above a short row of storefronts, no perspective, Everything near, and the empty street nearer— Only the light that touches them appears At all unique, sidelong and full of…
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