Posts Tagged ‘stop fussing and learn to love it’

Eve’s Apple Bottom

Tuesday, March 5th, 2013

Eye Candy?

No, not for my precious cavities!

My holes made whole by nine foot knolls that

know me too well. My green escape from

Hell when there’s no one to tell of this special


spelt wrong in this book.


Like two foot gnomes who possess old cold pain

but never complain in the rain.

Their bodies were stained by pain-


or the pinschers that piss. Me off

wearing the weaved green on my sleeve.


Lips are chipped and chapped from

the Kiss that can kill. So, cold I know

when you are naked in snow and The

wind will blow.



Brooks essay

Friday, March 1st, 2013

Prompt posted.  Due date moved back to March 15.

Incidentally, if you were going home early tomorrow…

Thursday, February 28th, 2013

…what kind of sweet smackerel would you miss partaking in the MOST,cookies or brownies?

With that, see you ALL tomorrow! 😉

PS- This is a sacrifice, you realize: using an oven while studying Plath seems vaguely barbaric to me…

Where was this circa Beat Generation?

Tuesday, February 26th, 2013

So raise up squire, adjust your attire
We have no time to wallow in the mire
If you’re on a foreign path, then let me do the lead
Join in the essence of the cool-out breed



The Mother Audio

Wednesday, February 20th, 2013

I have to say, I was a little surprised at the way Brooks read this. I had imagined it with more emotion, since I read it with such emotion. Maybe the lack of emotion is the emotion?

Beautiful people write beautiful poetry

This makes me happy

Happy Tuesday, CoPo

Tuesday, February 19th, 2013

Here’s another picture of Ginsberg with his kitty.

He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a cat   
Tawny, reluctant, royal. He is fat
And fine this morning. Definite. Reimbursed.

“The Sundays of Satin-Legs Smith” by Brooks, and only in this post because it mentions a cat.

Here’s Sylvia Plath with her brother, Warren and her confessional kitty.

There’s too much text going on and I needed some cat pictures.


Wednesday, February 13th, 2013

Contemporary Poetry has the opportunity to do a reading for Thursday Poems.

We have Thursday, April 4 at 5:00 p.m. as our slot.  Note: April is National Poetry Month! Also note that the Holi Festival of Colors on Ball Circle is on April 5.

Here’s where you come in!

1. Let me know if you want to participate in the comments below.

2. Who would you want to read? You can choose from Bishop, Ginsberg, Brooks, Lowell, Sexton, Rich, Plath (if Catherine is doing Thursday Poems, she will receive IDS privilege and gets to read this), Hejinan, Palmer,  Vollmer, Koumanyakkaa, Hacker, Merrill, Wilbur, or Walcott. Don’t know who to pick? Check our syllabus here.

We do not have to read all of these authors, but what we do need is enough people to participate and read a poem (or two!) to fill up a half hour slot. Who doesn’t love poetry enough to read aloud?

In other news, Happy Galentine’s Day! See you on Friday and please, please let me know if you’re interested! Poetry with you folks is simply the best.




Interpretive Performances Begin Friday

Sunday, February 10th, 2013

This Friday:

Eric, Karina, Mason, Hanna, Tricia, Mario, Andy, Chris

Full schedule will be posted under Assignments tab.

Making up for absences!

Saturday, February 9th, 2013

This is the only time I’ve been able to sneak away to blog since internet at the Hilton in DC cost $13 a day! Excuse me, I’m a broke college student, I don’t have that kind of money floating around. Anyway-to Howl!

I tried reading all the way through a couple times, but I could never focus enough to get through the whole thing. Instead, I looked up the poem online and found a site where Ginsberg read his poem. ( This was great because I actually listened to the whole thing (both parts!). I did get tired of the repetition of “who” at the beginning of each line, but Ginsberg discusses a lot of controversial and to me, shocking concepts. I even had to look up a few of the words, like pederasty. I thought it was interesting how Ginsberg interpreted the punctuation and pauses in his poem. I definitely read a lot of the line breaks and lack of punctuation in places differently than he did, especially with all the exclamation points at the end of the second part. I hate exclamation points. You never know the intonation with which they were meant to be read and they just make me think of when I was a kid and I would add a hundred exclamation points to letters or papers when I was super excited about something. But I think in the second part of Howl Ginsberg does a good job of using exclamation points to give his poem a sense of madness that wouldn’t be achieved otherwise. Although I’m still debating if I like that he used exclamation points for the entirety of the second part. He could have used less. Maybe.

Ginsberg had some EXCELLENT lines–I’m going to list my top favorites (Oh and these are the lines I picked out because of the way Ginsberg read them, I don’t know if I would have picked different lines if I hadn’t heard the poem read aloud….):

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels
staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, 

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward
lonesome farms in grandfather night, 

because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

the lava and ash of poetry scattered in
fireplace Chicago,

and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow
of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love
into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered
the cities down to the last radio

^^^^The last one was hands-down my favorite^^^^

Best Ginsberg Poem.

Monday, February 4th, 2013

A Desolation

Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build: wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image—shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.


I absolutely love this poem. The idea that we want things we shouldn’t, that we can be lonely and still be at home, going against the grain. I love the idea of wilderness, I always tie that image into my own longings and desires, like the wilderness is a reflection of my own heart, or it is synonymous of my heart. It makes me less afraid, less tied to what I should do and more inclined to follow myself. And I think that is one of the definitions of poetry, that it encourages you to be less afraid of being who you are. Ugh, I have so many feelings about this poem. I love Ginsberg’s poetry. The only question I have about this poem is the part about the bear-what does Ginsberg mean? But I kind of don’t want to know… I like the ambiguity. But I want to know what you guys think!