Thursday, November 1, 2018

November 1, 2018

Poets’ Roundtable


Welcome

As we read and speak today, let us remember to listen attentively. We, in our enthusiasm, at times talk over one another and this causes us to lose time and insight. It also does violence to the poem which is meant to be the center of our focus.  



News and Jabber

This link will take you to a New Yorker article about Donald Hall's writing life after age 80. The many links will take you to further samples, info, etc. about that remarkable period in Hall's life.

One of his later poems, linked to in the article is nine stanzas of nine lines of nine syllables.  Rather than that, let's just write poems of any length with nine-syllapble lines and nine-line stanzas of any number. Please make it more than one stanza long.

Additionally, here is a link to another New Yorker article, this one about Tony Hoagland, whose death I noted recently noted in an email. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/11/05/peaceful-transition

The Current Assignment

I found it manifesting itself in various ways and wrote three contenders for the assignment. I'll present the one I think best exemplifies transfiguring language.

The Next Assignment


Write a  poem of at least two nine-line, nine-syllable stanzas.

The Next Meeting


The next meeting will be on Thursday, November 15, 2018.

Other Jabber

I am re-reading The Bow and the Lyre by Octavio Paz. It is one of my bibles. When we looked at prose poems a couple of months ago I spoke about poetic language as an outstanding feature of the prose poems. Poetic language has more to do with the making of the poem than almost any other feature. Paz, in this book, spends a lot of time speaking of the language poets use. I like his assertion that poetic language that is transfigured. If the language is transfigured, then we find that ideas rhyme. It is not unlike magic. So, look into your own poems to find where language is transfigured. If it is not something more than ordinary language, try to make it so. Language moves from representing something to phrasing that declares something unnameable. Read from pages 28 and 29.

If time permits, discuss the encounter with Elizabeth Bishop.


Between Going And Coming - Poem by Octavio Paz

Between going and staying
the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can’t be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause. 

7 comments:

  1. The walk home,

    Between visiting
    With my close
    Friend

    And my
    Return walk
    To my own home,

    I stopped at a pub
    For pint
    Of beer.


    Later,
    After some
    Reminiscing,

    My eyes
    in the bar’s bottled
    mirror,

    Spied me sipping
    Beer
    From a tumbler.


    Call me a fool,
    I signed,
    An other.

    Drank it down
    With a sob
    And chaser.

    Barman
    Called me a cab,
    Sent me home.

    ©gcoulombe 92 11-02-18

    ReplyDelete
  2. Morning has risen…

    I started
    This brief trope
    Mesmerized.

    As I walk
    With my head bowed
    To see

    Where my thoughts
    are headed
    This morning.


    The hour
    Before
    Noon is slow ticking.

    I have to decide.
    The mind
    Is dull.

    Age dampens
    My thinking--
    Irks my soul.

    © gcoulombe92, 11-05-18

    ReplyDelete
  3. A feeling for and ending.

    The yard is leafed,
    Some trees bare
    This noon.

    The sun has hid.
    The sky is grey.
    Fey.

    ’tis time
    For contrition,
    Penitence.



    On this long voyage
    Home
    Life struggled.

    Faith has not been strong.
    Failures, long.
    Gone.

    The heart
    Fibrillates.
    It’s muscles shake.

    © gcoulomhe92 11-05-18

    ReplyDelete
  4. An old friend

    Found him
    In the shower,
    A dead man.

    Meaning,
    That I did not:
    A cop did.

    He was my
    Friend—
    Not literally.



    Although,
    We say, “He was!”
    Stuff like that,

    Some friends
    lie about friends.
    When they want.

    Say just what’s
    Necessary
    To say.

    ©gcoulombe92@mail.com
    11-1-18

    ReplyDelete
  5. This away and that away walls

    Coming from Maine
    I would not
    have thought

    To use potatoes
    To build.
    A wall.

    We were driving
    Down a highway
    East…


    A sudden turn
    Up a
    country road

    With this away
    And that away
    Fields

    Took us up hills
    And flowing
    Fields,



    Bordered by
    Connecticut “tato”
    Stone.

    Miles of them,
    Stacked so high,
    for stone walls

    To enclose large
    Farms or tall
    Green crops.
    {Ct. Potatoes are round shaped stones no smaller than a baseball but no larger than a softball…an educated guess. G.}
    ©gcoulombe92. 11-04-2018

    ReplyDelete
  6. Untitled
    “Rancor is rarely simple…”
    Amy Clampitt in “Cloudberry Summer”

    Eighty-one syllables from now, I
    will have riffed on the ease of rancor
    well enough to convince you that it
    may not be simple but is easy.
    Amy was speaking of something bi-
    ological as swamp gas and mos-
    quitoes in a poem torquing its
    way toward an end that says “illu-
    sory van of pleasure had moved on.”

    Well, Amy, it always does and that’s
    the fact that drove John to walk in his
    pajamas along the ocean floor
    until he drowned beneath the boat the
    authorities believe he jumped from.
    For him, rancor was simple. Simple
    as the bullet that tore his father’s
    brains out in Atlanta on the porch.
    One finds rancor easy after that.

    (November 2018)

    Unpublished work Copyright 2018 Emerson Gilmore

    ReplyDelete