Posts Tagged ‘what do you mean you haven’t posted yet?’

on your bed, a Helena Rubinstein smile.

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013

In case any of you were wondering, here’s what Helena Rubinstein’s “smile” looks like

disclaimer: I don’t understand technology so a link will have to do…and honestly, I’m not sure if the link will even work.

 

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.

THURSDAY POEMS? THURSDAY POEMS.

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.

 

 

 

The Naughty List: February 3 Edition

Sunday, February 3rd, 2013

Allison

Chris

Eric

Gigi

Karina

Nico

Ty

man I’m feelin’ the beats right meow.

Friday, February 1st, 2013

Here’s Ginsberg with his cat.

Here’s Kerouac with his kitty cat.

Here‘s some more if you’re interested. My personal favorite is our main Modernist William Carlos Williams. Did you really think I was going to let Julia be the only person to post poets with cats?

links on links links / lines on lines on lines

Thursday, January 24th, 2013

“Shall I Encode Thee in DNA? Sonnets Stored On Double Helix”

DNA storage for sonnets; what poet wouldn’t want that? Nevermind the potential irrelevancy of sharing this article but man, my wildest science fiction fantasies are a-comin’ true.

Don’t have the money to research this? No problem, there’s nothing like memorizing a poem the old fashioned way. And what’s this? Two of our contemporary poets are on here since their poems are “particularly rewarding to memorize”? Plus, NPR’s little description about Bishop’s “The Fish” is that it leads towards “a euphoric release.” Let’s just say I’m feeling some serious heart palpitations while reading this lady.

Now I’m off my NPR kick, here‘s one of David Biespiel’s Poetry Wire columns from forever ago that yes, mentions Bishop. Main discussion revolves around this essay by her that was published posthumously under the pseudo name “Mr. Margolies” (which makes sense if and when you read the essay). Biespiel summarizes the essay pretty well and it resonates well with the previous essays we read in class and Bishop’s biography:

“Bishop’s idea about learning is that you must live to become a writer, not just be a completer of writing assignments, even if those assignments are composed as poems. That you must you must be alert to living not to lessons.”

Here’s one of my favorites from the essay:

Screen shot 2013-01-24 at 9.30.04 AM

 

I have nothing else to add. Happy reading!

 

Elizabeth Bishop’s “At the Fishhouses”

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013

I can’t help but feel let down to the ending of “At the Fishhouses” by Bishop.  I was completely immersed in her images; I was feeling the tone, the descriptions, the seal, just everything until I reach the last page and find:  “It is like what we imagine knowledge to be:/dark, salt, clear, moving, utterly free…”.
For me, this hit-me-over-the-head summary of “see? look what analogy I was making all along!” was highly disappointing.  Of course, I do feel silly criticizing her work considering I’m just a student, however, I wonder why she chose to end what was an otherwise compelling, already rich poem in this way?  Am I giving to much weight to these final lines?  She could have ended this so much more subtly, with another simple image of her friend’s grandfather or, (why not?), even more fish, and I feel as if the reader would have benefitted more because they would be able to draw their own conclusions as to whether this poem really was “about” knowledge, or if it was about solitude, isolation, life cycles, or anything else instead.  Maybe I’m reading this wrong, maybe not, but I would love to understand why she chose this ending.

Courtney Cherico

Reports

Saturday, January 19th, 2013

Groups, dates, topics now uploaded under the Assignments tab.

Just as seasonal depression started to kick in…

Friday, January 18th, 2013

Here’s some more Mary Oliver to celebrate the sunshine. And thank goodness.

The Sun

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone–
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly
oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

Evening Putterings

Thursday, January 17th, 2013

I was perusing through some Emily Dickinson and came across this poem, which used to be my favorite back in high school. I still have a soft spot for it and thought it would make  a good nostalgic read for the evening.

It’s all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the bees
Which in the Clover dwell.