Poetry Placement (a response)

Thursday, July 31, 2008

I was happy to read Kirsten Ogden's Poetry Placement on The Kenyon Review blog on Wednesday. I think she's on to something: using "poetry placement" like companies use "product placement" to promote their merchandise. I missed the episode of AMC's Mad Men that she is referring to; well - ok, I haven't seen a single episode. It looks like a smart, entertaining show, but 10 pm on a work night?...well, yes, it's past my bedtime. I think it's time to include it on my FiOs DVR. But I digress.

Mad Men is popular, and mentioning a sophisticated collection of poetry by one of the key poets of our modern age in the context of the show surely caught the attention of a lot of people...people who probably never heard of Frank O'Hara or his book...people who are now interested in reading it to see what all the hype is about. I didn't even see the episode, and I'm interested! That's pretty good.

Now, I'm not saying that if poetry is prominently mentioned on TV or in a movie, etc., the audience would necessarily feel the urge to go to their local Barnes & Noble to snatch it up. I mean, when you think about movies - each time you see a can of Coke or a FedEx box (Cast Away, anyone?) or such - that doesn't mean that you will go out and become a preferred Coke drinker after years of drinking Pepsi (just an example). But it will get your attention. And stay in your mind...Maybe make you curious... And poetry is much better for you than Coke. It's the real thing.

Spoke'N'Word

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

When most people think of "bikers", images of the scruffy/grizzly, tattooed, leather-clad warriors of the road who cuss worse than a sailor and have a maniacal look in their eyes come to mind. I suppose some are, but truthfully - most aren't. I'm not a biker, but in the past few years, I have come to know many and have been surprised by how much they dispell the stereotype. Even if they have that rough'n'tumble look about them, bikers are intelligent, often hold a white-collar job, live well, and would seem more at-home on the golf course than on a steel horse.

Why do I mention this? In two words: Road Poet (and its sibling Road Poet-NY). I recently learned that August is National Biker Poetry Month (NBPM). Bikers and poetry? That combination seems as likely as Britney Spears opening for Metallica. But it's true - and why not? OK - yes, I'm a skirt and have never been on a bike. From what I hear, though, there is such a sense of freedom, a sense that all is right with the world, verging almost on the philosophical and spiritual, that it must be inspiring.

I'm going to explore this Road Poet a little more, but in case you're interested in NBPM, there is a schedule for those of you in the Northeast on Road-Poet NY. Check it out.

"I spent $20,000 for that??"

Monday, July 21, 2008

I have to start this blog entry with a DISCLAIMER:
First, I believe a college education is a valuable asset to have in today's world - because, let's face it, a high school diploma doesn't get you too far anymore - and support those willing to challenge themselves to grow and learn and develop into responsible human beings, no matter what field they go into. Second, I wish I had listened to myself a little more closely in those crazy college days and had a little more confidence to pursue the field that I now know would have been a perfect fit for me. Not that I'm complaining about the route I eventually followed, but there's always the "what if". I find myself trying to bury that ever-present twinge of jealousy toward those I know who have become journalists, writers, English teachers, publishers and even editors. That could have been me.

I remember being a senior in high school, when my father asked "what will be your major?" I paused and thought about it; I think I even considered "journalism" but quickly decided "psychology" - a major as elusive now as it was then, I suppose. Granted, I enjoyed psychology - graduating with honors - and although I didn't go into the clinical field, I did learn much that I have applied directly in my career. Still, I always snuck those non-essential creative writing courses into my course schedule...just...because...and probably remember the advise of those professors more than my psych profs.

So, why should it be a surprise that someone, Columbia College Chicago, finally decided to make "Poetry" an official undergraduate major? Maybe because poetry is already covered under the umbrella of "English" or "Literature" or one of the existing majors. Maybe because, and let's be honest here, it's just not one of those lucrative career fields. I don't know. In the same breath, I think it's great that there would be such a demand and interest in poetry that it would warrant a college to allot enough funds to create a new major - especially when it seems most colleges are cutting back and sticking to the basics.

All I know is that if I told my father those many moons ago that I wanted to major in "Poetry", he would probably have disowned me, and certainly would not have paid his hard-earned money to put me through school to study something that may or may not have produced any marketable skills in his daughter. Then again, would I have had the confidence to have demanded this be my chosen field?

What do you think about "Poetry" as a major? Good idea, bad idea, just don't care?

For those of you who are considering this major, check out the CCC poetry blog.

Self-Help Books

Friday, July 18, 2008

All the positive energy and smiley words -
so precious. so, so precious.
like a little lamb that bounces into the woods,
chasing out the darkness.
And who knows the root of this evil?
It's not evil, just misguided
perceptions that happen standing still.
The pages, all the pages that confided
it's not me. It's them. It's you.
But is it true? APA just might agree:
Bad relationships - chapter 1-2
Dependency - chapter 3
Social Anxiety - chapter 4
Depression - chapter 5
and more! There's much, much more
wrong with me. Can I survive?
Yes, if we just think positively
the ickies will go away. {Whew}
I suppose this skewed reality
is why I avoid these books too.

Can't Sleep? Take One of These...

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Having trouble sleeping? Listen to someone reading a poem.

Ok, not quite - but that's the idea behind the world's longest movie, "The Cure for Insomnia." Created in 1987, it runs (depending on the source you read) anywhere from 85-87 hours, with Lee Groban reading his nearly 5,000 page poem of the same name, interspersed with heavy metal and X-rated video. Have I seen it? In a word, no. Even when I have trouble sleeping, I think I can manage just fine without staying up for 3 and a half days watching. Have you seen it? I'm curious if it lives up to the hype and if it's the psychedelic trip that it sounds to be. I don't even know if, in today's digitalized world, it still exists and can be viewed by anyone anymore.

I just thought this was funny. I mean, people have trouble staying awake when listening to a short poem, let alone a 5,000 pager. It's my impression that when most people even hear the word "poem" that it makes them feel cramped and like they are living this 3 and a half day diatribe.

Was it done for art? Shock value? Drugs? Not sure. This video from a few years ago is of Lee Groban himself (seemingly an upstanding kind of guy) explaining, in part, the project:

In the News...

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Found an interesting blog, the Poetry Hut, that links online articles of poetry in the news. Short, sweet, to the point - and a good reminder that poetry is still out there, folks, working its magic in the real world, one way or another.

Ron Silliman occassionally does something similar, but his is more of a rolling list (that sometimes is unnecessarily long) than a condensed top 10 stories of the day. Either way, check them out.

Implications of Rain

Monday, July 14, 2008

Maybe it's the way the light casts down and bends
around the evergreens; the clouds descend
and infiltrate the undergrowth; the shadows crawl
along the forest floor, into membrane walls.
The gloominess exasperates
that it's Monday; and so it takes
that much more blood to climb from bed.
My heart crawls where shadows tread.

Sound is imprisoned like each day before -
the lonely drop that signals hundreds more,
all of which are indifferent to my prayers for sun,
and soon my prayers dwindle down to none.
The perfidy exacerbates
that's it's Sunday now; the levee quakes
with water moaning for God to take -
to take the bruise-colored clouds that shake -

Clouds, squeezed almost dry, remain aloft -
impervious darkness, trailing off,
(or blending, really) into the damp night shade
and horizons met where the distinction fades.
These are the days that ghosts stumble upon;
my eyes adjust to see before they're gone.
Silence hasn't changed in all these tired days
except the ringing echo that always stays
and seems to grow louder in intensity
and I wonder if the sun will ever shine on me...

...Then I wake...and it's still Monday morning;
insignificant hills shrug off the storming.
Time for me to crawl along and do the same;
such are the implications of rain.

A Smile

Thursday, July 10, 2008

A smile in simplicity
is as rare as emerald stones
without fracture or resistance
or obligations to reflect.
And though its luster is foreign
against the worn surfaces shown,
its brevity of being haunts
with pure joy that it projects.

Modern Poets (a response)

Thursday, July 3, 2008

I was moved the other day by Nic Haralambous and his blog posting on July 1 when he acknowledges that there are many fine poets from the past who brought us the quintessential poems we have learned or heard or quoted over time; however, he also asks the poignant question, who are the poets of his (our) era?

His question is the crux of another key question: does poetry still matter? If poetry is still significant in these modern times, who are our leaders in the fight to keep it so? The conclusion came, as many of us have recognized, that modern songwriters are filling in that gap now and claiming the crown as the poets of our time. I agree, absolutely. Afterall, why do you think I post my "favorite lyrics" on here? Why are we inspired, enchanted, empowered, or reminded when we hear the words to a song? Because it's poetry.

I responded to his posting that I believe poetry still has a place in our society. And it does. It should never be discounted. On a small scale, think about how many times you quote something that has become almost trite, only to remember that it was derived from a poem. But, to his original point, who's creating these words now? Who are the modern poets?

I search for them. There are writers, for certain. But most are minor and like me, just trying to get the message out there, whether successfully or not. There are very few "greats" that future generations will quote in fondness. Maya Angelou? Ok, there's one. What about Charles Simic (US poet laureate)? Ever hear of him? There have got to be more. Are there?

In the meantime, I'll let the gap be filled by mr. ipod...

Poetic Justice, Indeed

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Middlebury College professor and writer Jay Parini's essay on A Case of Poetic Justice first appeared in the Washington Post on June 22, 2008. To summarize: a few kids in Vermont vandalized Robert Frost's summer home back in December (i.e. - broke in and threw a blowout) , were caught and part of their "sentence" (community service) was to discuss Frost's poetry with Parini. As he points out in his essay - that's hardly "punishment" and as it turned out, it was a revealing lesson to those kids.

Parini recently wrote a book on "Why Poetry Matters" (do you sense a theme on my blog here?), and his essay is brilliant in demonstrating that, yes, it does matter. To those kids, he was able to get through to them the challenge of choice and following the "road not taken."

Poetry is not punishment and its magic is when you can apply it to your own life (or even take you out of your own life for a while).

I won't rehash his entire essay - it's best if you read it for yourself. If you've never read Frost or the quintessential "The Road Not Taken" - do yourself a favor. You can thank me later.
 
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