Friday, October 12, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A favorite from Wislawa Szymborska
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Ekphrastic Rapture
Wanted to write a poem about the apocalypse (and as you all know I have a Sat. deadline). Came across this article about restoring a damaged old triptych. I guess when you paint the apocalypse you don't expect your work to have to last forever.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
One for the season
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
My 64 Poetic Go-To Words
This is a scan of the title page for my MFA thesis, a new collection of poems that is due in the next few weeks. After two years of generating new poems and a semester-long wrestling match with the overall shape of the manuscript (another post), it’s finally near completion. In a somewhat manic rush over the past week or two, the manuscript came together, including a few new poems that filled in gaps and some recasting of individual pieces, as well as much tuning and twisting and, I hope, sharpening up of line, sound, image, etc.
Then I consider the whole book, how this poem and the ones next to it work together. Does the repetition of “palm” or “light” or “small” show the development of a theme or vision or idea? Or is it just linguistic laziness? I would never use “small” nine times in a single poem, so why am I doing this in a single section of the book? If I replace it with “tiny” or “slight” or “thumb-sized” what levels of new pleasure or what barriers does that create for the poem’s readers?
At what point does micro-editing individual poems take away their own energy and stand-aloneness in favor of a larger whole? And what if, as I suspect, this list shows me what my real preoccupations might be. From the look of things, I am obsessed with body parts—especially hands, seeing, various beverages, wounds, dark and light, theological abstractions, art, music, eating and naming. Perhaps those very obsessions ARE what the work is about. Finding synonyms or replacements is perhaps too easy or unnecessary?
Here’s the real secret—this work of considering and reconsidering each poem in the light of the whole, of discovering the texture of my preoccupations and obsessions , or getting sick of my own words and hoping to find new ones that teach me something, of taking the poems seriously even if no one else ever does—this is the work I love to do, as both writer and reader. Fire up the coffee (that appeared a lot in the last collection) or pour me a whiskey (shows up a few too many times here) and let me discover what it is I had (and have) to say.
My 64 poetic “go-to” words
palm
light
digital
cup (v.)
shoulder
body/bodies
mouth
name(s)
scar/wound
still
just
come/coming
eye
“my own”
pale(d)
small
music/song
tender(ed)
several
flesh
skin
word
blue
wings & birds of all kinds
how
tongue
pinot
remember
hands
skype
herb(s)
love
name
time
Ambien
lemon
air
echo
empty
beer
hips
dark
belly
together
full
bless/blessed/blessing
balm
attend
porch
voice
throat
Bach
Rothko
God/god/gods/Jesus
bones
break
sweet
garden
loss
core
breath/breathe
forgive
confess(ion)
crush
scent