OK, who's ready?? April is National Poetry Month, but it's also National Jazz Appreciation Month!!! It's like the gods have spoken and declared April to be the month of AWESOME. I know, tax day is in there, too, but that's just to balance out April Fool's Day, and keep the attention where it belongs: on Poetry and Jazz.
So, I've had almost no suggestions as to what people want to have me write about, so you're all going to be left with whatever I can come up with. I'm not claiming it's going to be GOOD, just that it will be. But just to get us in the spirit, I'm going to share with you one of my favorites.
In the spring of 1999, I had a wonderful opportunity to hear a lecture given by then Poet Laureate of the U.S. Robert Pinsky. Mr. Pinsky illustrated poetry for me in a way I'd never heard, and ever since, I have found myself with a new appreciation for the art. He simply stated that poems are about sound. Even if you're reading to yourself, the voice you read with is letting a poem's sound ring in your ear. Each letter, syllable, punctuation mark and meter are heard internally, projected by the Voice. I never understood that principle until - oddly enough - hearing it said. And it made sense to me.
So, here is a work of Mr. Pinsky's that I hope you all enjoy. For those in the business of analyzing literature, I'm sure you'll find a lot in here to think on.
The Want Bone
The tongue of the waves tolled in the earth's bell.
Blue rippled and soaked in the fire of blue.
The dried mouthbones of a shark in the hot swale
Gaped on nothing but sand on either side.
The bone tasted of nothing and smelled of nothing,
A scalded toothless harp, uncrushed, unstrung.
The joined arcs made the shape of birth and craving
And the welded‑open shape kept mouthing O.
Ossified cords held the corners together
In groined spirals pleated like a summer dress.
But where was the limber grin, the gash of pleasure?
Infinitesimal mouths bore it away,
The beach scrubbed and etched and pickled it clean.
But O I love you it sings, my little my country
My food my parent my child I want you my own
My flower my fin my life my lightness my O.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
"Nature's First Green is Gold..."
Ha! That line should have gotten all of my lit-geek friends' attention!! OK, so I wrote at the beginning of the month that I was gearing up for national Poetry Month and the "Poem-a-Day" challenge. Well, since April is just around the bend, I think it's time to lay down the rules of the Challenge.
1) Submit an original poem per day for the month of April.
2) Comments are appreciated, but not necessary.
3) If you HAVE to leave a comment, please don't let it be a "YAY!", or a smiley, or anything like that. If you like it, great, if you don't, fine...but if you're going to say that you do or don't like it, please tell me where/what it is that clicks or doesn't click with you. I know what I think of each work and why. Let's keep in mind, this is an exercise for ME. Sorry, but it's my blog, and I get to be a little selfish here.
4) If you feel so inclined to post something you've written, by all means, feel free to do so. If you want an opinion, tell me, and I'll be glad to furnish you with one (along with whys or why-nots) but you will otherwise probably just get a "hey, thanks for posting." Just, please, keep it PG-13...it's art, but this is a family show for the most part, ok? Remember, I have deleting power here. Oh - submitting once or twice does NOT require you to take up the same challenge. So don't feel like you're obligated. I am, but you're not. YES - it's that simple.
5) Topics are largely unlimited, but, as I said before, keep it reasonably clean. For all I care, you can write about a can of tomato soup - or just the label - or some verdant pasture somewhere...it matters not to me. There are no grades here, and no points off for spelling. Free verse, rhyme scheme, iambic pentameter (if you must)...that stuff doesn't matter.
6) This is supposed to be fun. It's poetry, and we're playing with sound and words here. So if somebody (me or someone else) decides to write something and it offends you, keep in mind that you're 1) probably not the target and 2) on my blog, so my paranoid/narcissistic tendencies always win here. If you want yours to win, you will just have to get your own blog. Its free and easy.
OK, with the rules stated fully, the timeframe set, you may consider yourself invited to come with me on this little venture. Participate as you will. Above all, I hope you enjoy the trip. I am excited and looking forward to it. I do not know what it will yield - perhaps something great, perhaps the knowledge that I should never try to make a living as a poet (assuming there are poets who make a good living simply by being poets) - I don't know. That's the point of the experiment.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.
The Fat Kid.
1) Submit an original poem per day for the month of April.
2) Comments are appreciated, but not necessary.
3) If you HAVE to leave a comment, please don't let it be a "YAY!", or a smiley, or anything like that. If you like it, great, if you don't, fine...but if you're going to say that you do or don't like it, please tell me where/what it is that clicks or doesn't click with you. I know what I think of each work and why. Let's keep in mind, this is an exercise for ME. Sorry, but it's my blog, and I get to be a little selfish here.
4) If you feel so inclined to post something you've written, by all means, feel free to do so. If you want an opinion, tell me, and I'll be glad to furnish you with one (along with whys or why-nots) but you will otherwise probably just get a "hey, thanks for posting." Just, please, keep it PG-13...it's art, but this is a family show for the most part, ok? Remember, I have deleting power here. Oh - submitting once or twice does NOT require you to take up the same challenge. So don't feel like you're obligated. I am, but you're not. YES - it's that simple.
5) Topics are largely unlimited, but, as I said before, keep it reasonably clean. For all I care, you can write about a can of tomato soup - or just the label - or some verdant pasture somewhere...it matters not to me. There are no grades here, and no points off for spelling. Free verse, rhyme scheme, iambic pentameter (if you must)...that stuff doesn't matter.
6) This is supposed to be fun. It's poetry, and we're playing with sound and words here. So if somebody (me or someone else) decides to write something and it offends you, keep in mind that you're 1) probably not the target and 2) on my blog, so my paranoid/narcissistic tendencies always win here. If you want yours to win, you will just have to get your own blog. Its free and easy.
OK, with the rules stated fully, the timeframe set, you may consider yourself invited to come with me on this little venture. Participate as you will. Above all, I hope you enjoy the trip. I am excited and looking forward to it. I do not know what it will yield - perhaps something great, perhaps the knowledge that I should never try to make a living as a poet (assuming there are poets who make a good living simply by being poets) - I don't know. That's the point of the experiment.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.
The Fat Kid.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Upcoming Project: National Poetry Month
OK, so the Fat Kid considers himself to be just slightly gifted with words. Not overly gifted, but slightly. With that note, there's an idea that came into my sphere not that long ago that I'd like to share with the estimated 4 readers that I might have. April is National Poetry Month. The folks at Writer's Digest - even though it appears they didn't think my submission to their pop culture fiction competition worth a winning nod (bastards) - have a cool poetry guy who does this challenge thingy - a poem a day for a month. The idea intrigues me. Of course, it's not just picking a poem you like, it's writing a poem each day.
Now, I don't consider my poetry to be my best arena. Oh, it's there, and there are one or two I like, but it's not my strongest suit. Why? I honestly don't know. If I had to guess, it's because I'm a sensual poet - meaning that I write by what my senses guide me to: smell, touch, taste, sight, sound. The poems that I believe are my best center around the senses. So, this project will be interesting. Thirty days and thirty poems. What kind of poems? I dunno...probably whatever strikes me at the time, and I may go back and use some old stuff if I get in a jam. but I'll leave it to anyone who reads this...what do you want to read/hear?
Now, I don't consider my poetry to be my best arena. Oh, it's there, and there are one or two I like, but it's not my strongest suit. Why? I honestly don't know. If I had to guess, it's because I'm a sensual poet - meaning that I write by what my senses guide me to: smell, touch, taste, sight, sound. The poems that I believe are my best center around the senses. So, this project will be interesting. Thirty days and thirty poems. What kind of poems? I dunno...probably whatever strikes me at the time, and I may go back and use some old stuff if I get in a jam. but I'll leave it to anyone who reads this...what do you want to read/hear?
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