Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Benefits of Igorance

The Benefits of Ignorance


If ignorance is bliss, Father said
shouldn't you be looking blissful?
You should check to see if you have
the right kind of ignorance. If you're
not getting the benefits that most people
get from acting stupid, then you should
go back to what you always were --
being too smart for your own good.

Hal Shirowitz

I'm feeling a bit on the whimsical side about poetry as I'm currently reading Good Poems for Hard Times, an anthology by Garrison Keillor. His poems are by both the well known and the barely known poets, mostly Americans. It's a wonderful collection.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I LOVE New York


Kass commented on the previous blog that I kind of miss New York. Oh, yes! I have moved to a different world. This world is good too but it doesn't cancel all I loved about New York. My morning has started wonderfully with an acceptance by a poetry online journal of a set of poems I wrote called "7th and 8:00". Several poems describe the few minutes I spent day after day, week after week, walking from the subway at 7th Avenue and 23rd Street, two blocks south to 21st Street where I worked. In less than five minutes a day I observed a rich and varied street life the like of which I suspect exists nowhere else in the US. Here is one of the poems about an experience I had nearly every morning.

The New Seller

Invisible Oriental incense surrounds a new aluminum kiosk,
a miasma of Dehli reds, Jodpur pinks,
temple bronze, Himalayan mauves.
The Indian news seller purifies and blesses
his tiny domain to gain his share
of the dream of American prosperity,
invoking daily the hopes
that brought him across the sea.

I pass by and rarely stop, rarely buy
but breathe the complex scent
and feel my day is blessed
by his belief.
My cynicism curls and crumbles
like the ash of his incense sticks.

Monday, February 23, 2009

The Poetry Home Repair Manual, Ted Kooser


I had never heard of Ted Kooser when he was named Poet Laureate in 2004, but my Nebraskan friend, Gary, assured me he was a wonderful poet. Kooser is a Nebraskan and we on the East Coast have our provincial ways. Mostly the Midwest seems a land of tornadoes and wheat and little else. I think of Lincoln, Nebraska and think of the quilt museum there and outstanding courses at the University on the quilt. Even this seems a little strange. Years ago when I visited Kansas City I went looking for quilt related shops and found that the tradition was very new there compared to the East Coast with it's rich New England, Pennsylvania Amish and Baltimore traditions. Yes, like most people here, Nebraska seems to me a great flat land where the most interesting thing is the annual congregation of sand hill cranes.

No more. Finally I've come upon Ted Kooser and was delighted and refreshed to read this book about writing poetry with generous examples -- but not enough of his own to allay my appetite for his work. Kooser emphasizes how to make poetry accessible to the reader while employing the various elements of the poet's craft. The Poetry Home Repair Manual is straight forward, useful to a beginner and to any poet who has not been hopelessly ruined by college professors expecting grand rhetoric and vast ambitions, admiring obscurity and acrobatic language.

The most recent NY Times Book Review had a long article asking if great poetry has died. Where, the writer moaned, are the grandly ambitious, far ranging poets? Who will take up where Ashberry has left off? Well, we've heard about the death of many kinds of art, verbal, visual, musical, etc. Poetry will survive and future critics will look back and find greatness, perhaps where contemporaries had disdain. I don't know if Kooser's poetry will be called "great". I find it accessible and enriching. There are several other poets about whom I feel the same way, and even more individual poems that I come across in chapbooks, in magazines, that people send me.

In those moments when I find I am writing a poem, usually with no intention of sharing it with anyone else, I will think of Kooser's advice, and perhaps return to this book to think about how to say what is on my mind in the clearest and most interesting and most poetic way. I think that's what Kooser's intention was for the book. Not to create "great" poets, but to help those who value poetry, some of whom, may becomes good, fine, or even great poets in the course of practicing the craft seriously for a lifetime, as Kooser has.

Friday, September 5, 2008

A Question


I have been reading a wonderful anthology that is part poetry and part personal statments by many educators who use poetry either as a teaching tool [aside from curicculum] or as a personal prop, challenge, meditation. The book is called . I've found several new-to-me poems and several familiar ones and read the words of many people dedicated to teaching despite the many hardships they face day by day. One teacher, Tony Wagner, wrote that s/he sometimes makes up aphorisms and gave this example:

Is life nothing more than a question and answer period, where the questions go unanswered, and the answers go unquestioned?

There are many beautiful poems, many exquisite phrases and images, many profound thoughts in this book and I'm keeping it to come back to now and then. But I will come back to this teacher's question also -- it is the last phrase that cuts most importantly. It is not enough to ask questions, when we are given answer we must examine it and see if there are other answers, conflicting answers, where does the answer come from?