They're having a contest, so if you have a blog, and link to their blog, you could win a free set of issues.
FREE POETRY!!! WOO-WHOO!!!
Check them out!
Somehow this image just seems to go with having one's poetry thrown to the masses for critique.
We've got three poems in the cue now! Thanks for the submissions. One of these three will be randomly selected for your perusal tomorrow. The other two will remain in the pile 'till picked at a future date.
Sources do confirm that yes indeed -the man in the photo with his head in a catfish is, former poet laureat, Billy Collins.
i have been to many poetry festivals. usually lasting 2-4 days, they consist of constant readings and socializing among poets, who, as we all know can be socially challenged. but when ALL around are poets, there is noone there to throw a stone. the stimuli build, books fly off shelves as collected words suddenly seem important enough to part with cash for, friends are made and bodily clocks lose and gain minutes.
never did i expect that one day i would pay air-fare and make hotel reservations to go and read poetry for ten minutes, and listen to 16 hours of others reading! i’ll write about two stand-out fests i attended.
the 40 years since Berkeley 1968 reunion of John Oliver Simon, Richard Krech & Charles Potts (May 11-14, 2008) included readings by Richard Denner, Hugh Fox, Alta, David Bromige & myself. it took place in
another took place in
keep yer ears peeled, (and inboxes checked) for upcoming fests put on by C. Allen Rearick and Mark Kuhar this late Fall. (anyone got the scoop on either of these fine functions?) each have intimated to me much poetry will be had. consider taking days off from work, to enter into the big, intertwining world of small poetry. what i have learned from such gatherings is the family tree of small press has a branch or twig for any ovus who care to be ‘in the leaves’.
You have probably never heard of Alan Taylor, (in the photo at left, looking a bit like Steve Smith in a Tyrolean mountain climber's hat), but he is a poet who writes the World Class Poetry Blog, a very interesting little piece of work in which he comments, ruminates and opines about all topics poetic. Here is a bit of his wisdom:
"For much of the 20th century, poets have been fixated on experimentation and quite often in very odd ways. A reaction to this experimentation led to a movement in the past 20 years called New Formalism, where some poets tried to revitalize the old forms, but much of what has been done by them has been staid. I think it's time for a new movement. The 21st century is not just a new century. It is also a new millennium. This era is beset with new technologies, untold violence, and a topsy-turvy re-organization of old structures in religion (ordination of women and gay priests), politics (the spread of democracy and fall of authoritarian regimes), education (charter schools and home schooling), and morality (the rise of alternative lifestyles). We can argue about whether these developments are positive or negative, but what role should poetry play in that argument?"
And so I ask you, poets of Cleveland, in your opinion, what role should poetry play?
At night, crows enter rooms
of sexually molested daughters.
Make fathers eat them.
"Originally from Richmond, Virginia, Goode studied economics and finance at James Madison University in Virginia. His Southern-laced vernacular alludes to a rural upbringing. His bookish style -- starched short-sleeve button up with tie, wire-rimmed glasses and a straw boater hat -- is straight out of a Harper Lee novel. Friends liken him to "a civil rights leader that listens to rap music." Goode's spoken word performances are drawn from a collection of personal stories, most of which are true, he says. The seasoned wordsmith rose through the ranks to deliver his rhymes to the spoken-word mainstream. He's done writing stints and made appearances for Nike, Nickelodeon and CNN's "Black in America. But it was after an appearance on HBO's "Def Jam Poetry" that Goode really started to get noticed."
Check out the entire article here. It's always good when poetry gets a marquee position in the news.
My arms are folded
round the girl; the pillow’s
cool and simple to my cheek.
The ebb and warmth. Birds in
Insensibly, beyond the reach of tenderness,
withdraws, goes embering down the years
to where a schoolboy’s on
his way upstairs,
-- no school tomorrow, or the next day too! --
he is throwing off his clothes ecstatically to feel
of this special evening’s sheets,
the pillow’s linen meadow at his
and in the dark to be imagining as real
self-embracing arms a sleeping girl.
Sending Steve Steve
It’s a different thing getting to know someone thru letters, with stamps procured & envelopes licked. Script has got charm, (even if i type my own letters). Handwritings or margin sizes are as hairstyles, or trouser choices are to presenting oneself, in society. Stylish bits of the self are thus displayed. There’s almost no limit, with letters, on subject matter, because a decent one has only to fill the page. Few other rules apply. For quick messages, a postcard may be used. Some letter writers select papers based, i think, on how much they have to say; how much room they intend to fill. Perhaps only a handful of minutes are to be had for the letter, so a smallish stationary may be used. A special fold maybe, or margins are played with. Blank greeting cards for laudatory notes or special writings.
i got to know Steve Ferguson mainly thru letters. A sweet, brilliant man who never minced words, Steve floated his own boat. We met a few (brief) times at readings, but usually one of us was on our way to work just after the read, or some other thing prevented any real conversation. So what i know of Steve truly exists in his letters.
While i wrote him rambling, disjointed rants, poems, and dissections, what i pried open from
i never saved a copy of my letters, even though i drafted them on my PC, so i often wrote him the same things consecutively. Steve’s fine sentences were always new, and shifted from squirrels, to birds, to Beethoven & Bach, to his own piano playing, which involved all of the above. He often referred to his hero Steven Collins Foster. Several months before he died Steve hefted a piano into his home and acquired many Foster songs, to learn and play.
One poet told me, before Bill Clinton came around, Steve Ferguson was the Slickest Willy around. Thotful, sweetheart, wildcat, & from left field---all used by others to describe the man. i think the Steve i got was my own. Certainly, the ramblings i sent to Bridge varied from those i sent in post or email, to other friends. In a sense, he and i crafted ourselves and each other on mainly white, bleached papers for a handful of years.
Steve was a kind of private person. More than once he wrote, you better not tell anyone, but…. And so the idea of publishing,or giving the letters to some library special collection, say, causes me to pause. And consider. And go back. And consider, again. Like Steve, i am a too-thotful person.
Steve’s humility in general, and (chosen) anonymity make me hesitate even to speak of him after his death! O man, i’d like to scream it from the rooftops : STEVE
So what is the value of a writer’s wish?
i wish i knew what things i could print or say about Steve, and still be respecting.
Perhaps i jes' better read more well his letters.
Steve Ferguson published and promoted poetry around
There is also a ‘little book’ by Steve Green Panda Press originally published, as part of an anthology (Animals Without Backbones