IBPC: Poetry and Poets in Rags

4/29/2008

News at Eleven

A lecture on poetry translation will be the final time Charles Simic speaks as U.S. poet laureate, the Library of Congress said.

"I've thoroughly enjoyed this past year," Simic said in a news release.

from United Press International: Simic stepping aside as U.S. poet laureate

Two poems by Mark Doty

Apparition (Favorite Poem)

The old words are dying,

from Cape Cod Times: In 'Fire to Fire,' Doty gathers poems that reflect recurring themes

[Lawrence] Ferlinghetti, who now is 89, looks to the past, present and future. In the middle of the 20th century, he made literature enliven and reshape our lives; in the 21st century, he calls attention to literary history and dedicates his energies to peace and "a rebirth of wonder."

from The Capital Times: Ferlinghetti's 'Coney Island' poems celebrated at 50

[Skerko] Bekas was not only threatened by Saddam's tyranny. In 1970, the master poet undertook a pioneering role in a new literary movement in northern Iraq. The motto of that movement was, "Anyone who holds a pen, unite for women's rights!" This motto led to Bekas being included on yet another death list. "Radical Islamist organizations called for my head because I defended the rights of women. They hung fatwas on the walls of mosques," said Bekas.

from Turkish Daily News: Kurdish poet owes his life to his verses

Pulled up short though we are by that mundane last line, upon turning the page to "Embodies," we get hammered again with the enormity of our ecological errors: "Deep autumn & the mistake occurs, the plum tree blossoms," and the understatement of "mistake" emanates horror. If they elicit visceral reactions to the ruin of this planet, these poems have done more for Earth than most polemical tirades.

By contrast, "Guantanamo" expresses muted, stilted outrage at political cruelty.

from San Feancisco Chronicle: Poetry review: Jorie Graham's 'Sea Change'

"We have the genes for a tail, you know," she [Gillian Ferguson] says cheerfully, just one of the many things she learned in the past five years while writing a book of poetry about the human genome project. "For all the things I found out, it was the closeness of the connection to the rest of the natural world that really blew me away. Do you know, we share 75 per cent of the same genes as a pumpkin?"

from The Scotsman: No timorous beastie

If the poem starts somewhere, the chances of it going somewhere else seem to be increased. If the poem kind of starts in the middle of some psychic nightmare, it usually is just gonna remain there. So the reason I begin my poems clearly is that I want to get away from that clarity and use the beginning of the poem as a kind of springboard into more ambiguous, more demanding (territory). [--Billy Collins]

from The Wire: the 'convivial' poet

But his works were as musical and meaningful as more conventional poetry, too, and a lot more amusing. The minimal poems were eye openers, ear openers and mind openers, and no one else was doing anything much like them at the time, and no one has since.

Granted--as [Aram] Saroyan has--he was smoking a lot of grass at the time.

from The New York Times: Lighght Verse

It makes one think of songs by Schumann, more than anything in English poetry, and in fact Mr. [Adam] Zagajewski often invokes music to achieve his effects. In "Music Heard With You," he mentions "Grave Brahms and elegiac Schubert,/a few songs, Chopin's fourth ballad. . . ." Here, one of the risks of being a civilized poet comes into view: the temptation to simply refer to emotions already captured in other artworks, rather than capture them anew.

But in his best poems, Mr. Zagajewski does capture them.

from The New York Sun: David Yezzi and Adam Zagajewski: Songs of Innocence and Experience

[Frances Wilson] makes us feel the constraints of the living conditions at Dove Cottage: she counts the number of bedrooms and works out who slept where, with whom, and why. She describes the immense walks that Dorothy [Wordsworth] took, "with mud-encrusted skirts banging against her sturdy legs, her flimsy shoes, her neck and face often wet and cold, her eyes and ears alert to the beauty of every sight" and the disapproving reactions of family and landladies to this bohemian mode of travel.

from The Times Literary Supplement: Poor Dorothy Wordsworth

Great Regulars

Time for a sonnet, the final poem for April, National Poetry Month.

This is one of my favorites. It's proof that the sound of language is what makes a poem.

What's so special about what's said here?

from Fleda Brown: Traverse City Record Eagle: On Poetry: Why Shakespeare lasts

And I felt him coming.

And I said to myself, "This is it. Everybody told me that I was going to get in a fight or get jumped if I lived in this neighborhood. And now it's going to happen."

So I steeled myself, and he rode up next to me, and he looked at me and he said, "You're the poet, right?" [--Terrance Hayes]

from Jeffrey Brown: PBS: Newshour: For Hayes, Pittsburgh and Poetry Are No Strangers

In Their Dotage

By Philip Miller

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Animal logic

Another poem from Maryfrances Wagner's new book, How Light Subtracts Itself
The African Catfish
Expires

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: By popular demand

Gift

by James Coffman

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Gift'

The Last Shot
By Maryfrances Wagner
From her new book, How Light Subtracts Itself

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'The Last Shot'

Maybe

By Timothy Pettet

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Maybe'

Solicitation

By Jon Herbert Arkham

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Solicitation'

Solutions

By Greg Field

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Solutions'

The operas were dead. "Occasional attempts at revival, although revealing untold glories to musicians of sober and patient tastes, have only shown that there is no hope of ever restoring these works to a stage which no longer resorts to extravagant sumptuousness of production for its own sake, nor has any use for the stiff formality of endless successions of da capo arias."

Handel's fortune really was at its nadir when his supporters, not his detractors, spoke in this way.

from James Fenton: The Guardian: Past notes

Many poems feature dogs doing things more common to people--caring, giving empathy--and people doing dog things--sleeping in parks, visiting dog runs, sticking their nose into the weather.

Cutesy as some of these inversions can seem at first, it's hard to blame [Philip] Schultz for making them: "We all like a little self-rhapsody," he writes, speaking for us and the four-legged.

from John Freeman: The News & Observer: Poems mark hard paths

Then the speaker becomes fully aware that the students are not only listening to his poems, but they are also reacting to them. They are no longer "frozen fish"; they are "fish in an aquarium." At this point, he understands that "though I had/tried to drown them/with my words/that they had only opened up/like gills for them/and let me in."

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: D. C. Berry's Fishy Metaphor

Then the speaker makes a disheartening pronouncement, immediately followed by an uplifting one. It is quite possible that the soul will fail in its heavenly pursuit; unity with God might remain "ungained," because of "a Life's low Venture," or following an unwholesome path through life.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Dickinson's 'Each Life Converges'

The final stanza celebrates the young soldiers and glorifies further their mission with an extended comparison to "the stars": "As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,/Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;/As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,/To the end, to the end, they remain."

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Laurence Binyon's 'For the Fallen'

With no international observers, journalists or even tourists allowed to Tibet, I am deeply worried about the fate of the Tibetans. Many of those injured in the crackdown, especially in the remote areas, are too terrified to seek medical treatment for fear of arrest. According to some reliable sources, people are fleeing to the mountains where they have no access to food and shelter. Those who remained behind are living in a constant state of fear of being the next to be arrested.

from Tenzin Gyatso: The Office of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama: An Appeal To All Chinese Spiritual Brothers And Sisters

One more strategy from [Eric Jerome] Dickey:

Spend the first week of your book's release doing events in bookstores that report their sales to the New York Times best-seller list.

Interesting move, one that points up the fact that best-seller figures can be manipulated.

from Bob Hoover: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Literary notes from the road

The body becomes an open cavern into which light pours as various internal organs are examined; when the heart, the defunct motor that ran the machine of the body, is severed from the cords that once bound it to the blood supply it finalises any usefulness of the man, it is an admission of his transformation from human being to inanimate organic object.

from Frieda Hughes: The Times: Monday Poem:

Nobel Laureate Derek Walcott is one of the great mongrels of American poetry, serving as a singular melting pot for a variety of traditions--from Shakespeare's English to the patois of his grandmothers, who descended from slaves.

I'm just a red nigger who love the sea,

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice

Poem: "Posthumous" by Jean Nordhaus, from Innocence.

from Garrison Keillor: The Writer's Almanac: For the week of April 28, 2008

I may be a little sappy, but I think that almost everyone is doing the best he or she can, despite all sorts of obstacles. This poem by Jonathan Holden introduces us to a young car salesman, who is trying hard, perhaps too hard. Holden is the past poet laureate of Kansas and poet in residence at Kansas State University in Manhattan.

Car Showroom

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 161

If one were forced to select a single word to exemplify [Elizabeth] Bishop's peculiar charm and power, it might well be "No," which keeps resurfacing at key moments. This was hardly a cry against life's challenges and opportunities. Rather it was a self-reprimand, or a self-exhortation: an internal urging to cast off first impressions, to look deeper and see things afresh. Time and again, an initial image gives way to a truer image: "Are they birds?/They flash again. No. They are vibrations of the tuning fork you hold and strike."

from Brad Leithauser: The Wall Street Journal: The Poet as Survivor

Whenever it comes to the era known as the 60s, I go wobbly in the knees. Perspective disappears, and reason evaporates. For me, this tumultuous decade--which in spirit runs from about 1960, with the election of John F. Kennedy, through the end of the Vietnam War in 1975--has a charm and promise all its own, which I associate with a feeling of freedom from old pieties and a sense of fresh possibilities.

from Jay Parini: The Chronicle Review: Sizing Up the 60s

As English dilutes into a world-language, becoming considerably more dull and watery than Elinour's noisome brew, we should be grateful to have poets with the courage of their identity, reminding us that English English may be a mishmash but still has a good strong flavour of its own.

[by Jane Holland]

Night Blue Fruit at the Tin Angel

from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Poem of the week

One of the first pieces I wrote for what would eventually become "Bill's Formal Complaint" is a prose poem titled "Bill." In it, the name "Bill" appears 24 times, the repetition, in and of itself, insisting on the character's existence, if only in the world of the poem. I wasn't convinced until about six months and 15 Bill poems later that he wasn't going away. I couldn't stop following him. [--Dan Kaplan]

from B.T. Shaw: The Oregonian: Since Bill is not going away, poet might as well write through him

Michael Neff is the founder and director of WebdelSol.Com and it's affiliated literary organizations including the Algonkian Writer Workshops. He is an artist, photographer, also chief editor of Del Sol Review, as well as publisher of the several literary journals including In Posse Review, The Potomac, Perihelion, 5_Trope, and La Petite Zine.

from Belinda Subraman Presents: Michael Neff: writer, editor, publisher and director of WebdelSol.Com

Purana (Sanskrit: purana), meaning "belonging to ancient or olden times", is the name of an ancient Indian genre (or a group of related genres) of Hindu or Jain literature (as distinct from oral tradition). They primarily are post-Vedic texts containing a narrative of the history of the Universe, from creation to destruction, genealogies of the kings, heroes and demigods, and descriptions of Hindu cosmology, philosophy and geography.

from V Sundaram: News Today: Puranas, the source of ancient Indian history--I

The Puranas consist largely of the Royal Genealogies and Kshtriyas Ballads and Tales. Dynastic accounts and heroic tales were the principal subjects of the Kshtriya record. These state the succession of Kings, and in that way are historical.

from V Sundaram: News Today: Puranas, the source of ancient Indian history--II

It may seem lightweight, but it is also remarkably tensile, an unbreakable thread holding his often startling imagery tightly together. So we can see how "the fluorescent tubing burns like a bobby-soxer's ankles" and recognize immediately "the flushed effulgence of a sky Tiepolo/and Turner had compiled in vistavision."

The style derives, it would seem, from the method of composition: "I don't have to make elaborately sounded structures," [Frank] O'Hara wrote. "I don't even like rhythm, assonance, all that stuff. You just go on your nerve."

from Frank Wilson: Philadelphia Inquirer: Poet of Pepsis and burgers

How does anyone become a poet? And why?" The radio announcer asked. I stared at him blankly. "Come on," he goaded me. "Canâ€™t you at least give me an insight? A metaphor?"

"How does anyone have an orgasm?" I thought of answering. But I thought that might have been rude.

from Good Times Weekly: Poetry Corner: How Does Anyone Become A Poet?

Jhoota Kunda Ballads: The Ghosts of Cranford Park by Daljit Nagra

from The Guardian: The Saturday poem: Jhoota Kunda Ballads: The Ghosts of Cranford Park by Daljit Nagra

The God of Loneliness
by Philip Schultz

from The New Yorker: Poetry: The God of Loneliness

Grief
by Matthew Dickman

from The New Yorker: Poetry: Grief

[by Geri Woodworth]
Reflections (from the other side)

from Portsmouth Herald News: Poem: Reflections (from the other side)

People are endlessly fascinated in how a poem is made; here Pamela Beasant neatly dispels any misconception that it is an art that could be quickly learned or lightly practised in her precise portrait of Norman MacCaig. From Running with a SnowLeopard (Two Ravens Press, 2008).

How long does it take to write a poem?

from The Scotsman: Poem of the Week

"Abundance"
By James Longenbach

from Slate: "Abundance" --By James Longenbach

Poetic Obituaries

[Bryan Antoine] Adams [Jr.] overcame his shyness through writing and performing rap songs, his mother said. Mangana encouraged her son to take a poetry writing class at Howard County Community College and his father encouraged him to take theater classes, Adams Sr. said.

Adams was still working through the grief of losing his toddler son by writing rap songs about the boy, Mangana said, adding that she believes that the young father and son are now united in heaven.

from Columbia Flyer: Hundreds mourn man slain in Wilde Lake

[Anne Chapman] was widowed in 1985 and spent her later years writing stories, poems and books.

Her last work was a collaboration with Glasgow University about midwifery in the city's Rottenrow Hospital during the war.

from Hamilton Advertiser: Well-known district midwife dies aged 91

The IRA planned to shoot him but the officer charged with the task called when Betjeman was "out of Dublin for a spell". This allowed time for the man to read some of his poems. He came to the conclusion that the author of the lines . . .

Miss J Hunter Dunn, Miss J Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun

. . . could not possibly be a spy, and he was spared.

When he died she attended his memorial service in 1984. She told her son, Ed, she had never had an affair with him. "I was in love with Dad," she added.

from Independent.ie: The poem that saved a terribly English spy from death in Dublin

[Hazel E. Ehresman] enjoyed giving readings, writing poems, and stories from "Elizabeth's Pen," as well as gardening, flowers, pastel painting, sewing and arts and crafts.

from Post-Bulletin: Hazel E. Ehresman--Racine

[Lois Marguerite Eshman] was a member of the local Artisans' Guild, the Marion Area Fine Arts Society, and a 60-year member of Epworth United Methodist Church. She was honored by various organizations in recent years and was recognized as the Marion Poet of the Year and the Artist of the Year. She deeply held the convictions of the Democratic Party and longed for an end to violence.

from Lancaster Eagle Gazette: Lois Marguerite Eshman

[Jamie Heard] also had a passion for reading, playing the piano, and writing poetry. According to friends, Heard was known as "Mr. Have You Read That Book?" because of his penchant for reading everything he could get his hands on. Khan said the last book his friend had been reading was the Quran.

from The Retriever Weekly: Student found dead in Erickson Hall

[Nadia Kajouji's] mother, Deborah Chevalier read some of her daughter's poetry during the one-hour service, including a poem written three months before the teen graduated high school.

"I am comfortable in my own skin and I know who I am for the first time," she read to mourners, who filled the hallways and overflow rooms. "For the first time I am at peace," the poem said.

from The Ottawa Citizen: Hundreds mourn 'beautiful angel'

[Terry "Jody" Rader] Learn was an avid poet and artist, Laurent said, with eyes so dark her mother called her "my black-eyed beauty."

"When someone takes drugs, they take a risk and it makes everything go wrong," Laurent said tearfully. "She was a wonderful girl. No one can take that away from me."

from Belleville News-Democrat: Mother mourns death of daughter; dancer's death called an overdose

[Edward] Archie Markham adopted his alter egos to explore different experiences and avoid the sort of stereotypes which he felt dominated too much of the discourse of the 1970s and 1980s concerning black writing. While he refused to be shackled by his West Indian origins, his adoption of pseudonymous identities drew on the Caribbean tradition of using masks to speak in voices in dialogue and allow contradiction with themselves.

from Telegraph: EA Markham

As a combatant in the Republicans' struggle of 1936-39 against the Fascist forces of General Franco, Rosario SÃ¡nchez Mora became an expert in the use of explosives.

She acquired from her comrades the nickname "la Dinamitera" (The Dynamite Girl), and was immortalised in a poem by the Left-wing writer Miguel Hernandez.

from Telegraph: Rosario SÃ¡nchez Mora

[Audrey M. O'Connor] then was employed by the Pentagon for 2 years in the Military Intelligence Division. Mrs. O'Connor was employed for several years at the Hattie Larlham Foundation as an aid, as a bus driver for Happy Day School and from 1987 until her retirement in 2003 as a teacher at the Garrettsville Christian School. Audrey had a gift for writing poems and for recycling anything and everything.

from Ravenna Record Courier: Audrey M. O'Connor

[Rustam Sani's] writings covered a wide range of topics including politics, socio-economics, history, culture, statistics and literature.

His anthology of poems, Riak-Riak Kecil, composed in 1977, was published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka. Rustam won the National Literature Award for 1988/89.

from The Star: Rustam Sani dies, aged 64

Philip Sargeant was not like any other architect of his era. By the age of 18 he had established a reputation as an actor, painter and poet and his aim in life went far beyond the creation of a few admired buildings, clever newspaper articles, paintings, poems and badly recorded stage appearances.

Sargeant, who has died of cancer, aged 75, was born and lived in Surrey Hills with his family in comfortable circumstances.

from The Age: A life of many talents lived to the full

But it was after leaving the legal world that he [Douglas Teesdale] managed to indulge in another of his passions. He became a prominent seller of antique books and had several books published, including an anthology of poems. Most of all though he savoured the time he spent with his six grandchildren.

from Edinburgh Evening News: Skilled advocate for whom family always came first

Some practitioners encourage patients to write stories, letters, essays or poems and to recall actual events in which they vanquished a concern or responded to a family member with cathartic satisfaction.

A practitioner of narrative therapy, Dr. Gene Combs, an associate professor of psychiatry and family medicine at Loyola University in Chicago, said Mr. [Michael] White emphasized the need to "elevate the person you're working with, instead of elevating the therapist," so that discussions with patients, alone or in family groups, can ensure that individuals are not viewed as "generic carriers of problems, or only as pathologies and not people."

from The New York Times: Michael White, 59, Dies; Used Stories as Therapy

Larry [Yeoman] had a passion for life. His sense of humor was the most resonating part of his personality. He loved golf, good food, Las Vegas, writing silly poems, St. Patrick's Day and being Santa Claus to countless children over the years.

from Oneida Dispatch: Lawrence H. Yeoman

4/22/2008

News at Eleven

[by Mary Oliver]

Self-Portrait

I wish I was twenty and in love with life

from The Washington Post: Absence, Opera, Beans, Dreams

Poetry is a vocation. It is not a career but a calling. For as long as I can remember, I have associated that calling, my life's work, with walking. I love the leisurely amplitude, the spaciousness, of taking a walk, of heading somewhere, anywhere, on foot. I love the sheer adventure of it, setting out and taking off.

from The Washington Post: Walking With His Muse, a Poet Becomes His Own Destination.
also The Washington Post: The Poet of Feeling

These forms are suited to his moods of languor and meandering, open-ended speculation. ("But I digress," [John] Ashbery apologizes at one point, as if he ever did anything else!) Yet his work is permeated by a sense of urgency. He writes to outpace his last thought, refusing to rest in it, proceeding at a rate that is not hurried but dogged, in it for the long haul.

What keeps him going?

from The New York Times: 'But I Digress'

It is a poem overcome by its own modesty in such matters: what exactly is "love pressed too far"? And isn't "love pressed too far" exactly the territory of many of the greatest lyrics? [Bernard] O'Donoghue is a medievalist and has stated that his favourite poets are the troubadours and MinnesÃ¤nger of the early 13th century, for whom Love--writ large--is the ultimate, the only, spur and ideal.

from The Guardian: Going back

When Mr. [Philip] Schultz's youngest son, August, raced up to him at the dog park near their home in East Hampton and breathlessly insisted that he guess this year's Pulitzer poet, he guessed Mr. [Robert] Hass. A win-win.

It requires a 30-year flashback to review what happened the last time that Mr. Schultz--Buffalo-born poet/teacher, clueless Pulitzer nominee (it was a secret) and jubilant winner this month of a $10,000 prize--had a close encounter with a major literary award.

from The New York Times: Refuting Fitzgerald With a Literary Comeback

"Sab taj uchhalay jayeinge, sab takht giraye jayein gehum dekhenge" reads a Faiz couplet on a new line of "T-shirts against injustice" by "Daku".

The black and white image has a man kicking a throne and raising a red flag.

from Express India: Pak resisting through Faiz's poetry

I kind of work from the ground up with the language, then the idea, and then somewhere along the way I think, "Well, this potato is interesting, but could it be more interesting to recast it as something else?" And again, what makes you rethink patriotism can also make you rethink potatoes. Poetry, I think, should make you re-see things you take for granted all the time--whether it's a potato or the word "patriot."

from phillyBurbs.com: An interview with poet Mark Yakich

She cooked [Celia] Robertson a cake made of margarine and chocolate in a frying pan and then they headed for the pub, Joan in nightie, fishnet tights, cardboard shoes, shocking-pink lipstick and a paper bow on top of her straw-bleached hair.

Yet this tragic, drink-sodden, cackling old crone had once been Joan Adeney Easdale, acclaimed young poet.

from Daily Mail: Bag lady, poet--and my granny

[George Barker] quarrelled bitterly and sometimes violently with friends as well as lovers and once threw one of his works on the fire--because, he said, his then partner had read it with a sneer. When a visitor tried to rescue it, he hit him over the head with a shovel. The same partner threw an ashtray at him and broke his teeth.

from The Guardian: Truly, madly, deeply

No trade publisher wanted to bring out his books. (Little wonder: Two months after publication, Barely and widely had sold only 26 copies.) After all, [Louis] Zukofsky was in many ways the last of the real modernists, ambitious on a grand scale, producing appealing but still demanding short work, while giving his greatest efforts to a mammoth 24-section epic titled "A."

from The Washington Post: A biography of a poet whose work demanded attention.

As for the Beat Generation. Let's all stop. Right now. This has turned into a Madison Avenue gimmick. When the fall book lists come out, it will be as dead as Davy Crockett caps. It is a pity that as fine an artist as Jack Kerouac got hooked by this label. Of course it happened because of Jack's naivete--the innocence of his heart which is his special virtue.

from Village Voice: Runnin' Scared: Clip Job: Kenneth Rexroth on the Beat Generation

Great Regulars

Life and death are located in the same room and, most profoundly, in the same body. They need each other. Even the speaker needs to be both dead and alive, to speak the [Emily Dickinson] poem.

[I heard a fly buzz]

from Fleda Brown: Traverse City Record Eagle: On Poetry: A matter of life and death

Angela Leighton's language is surprisingly meaty. Her eye is drawn to the boundaries between states, but while she's alive to their metaphorical potential, she also recognises them for what they are: transitional zones, hectic and populous. Her descriptions, consequently, are husky with nouns; a harbour is cluttered with "saints' wrack, livings, rot, planking, buoys,/rounding guts of rope" as well as "luck,/light, weather, balance, ebb, flow ..."

from Sarah Crown: The Guardian: Fertile lines

'At Cape Girardeau'
By Timothy Pettet

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'At Cape Girardeau'

'Bullethole'

By Jon Herbert Arkham

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: At the James home, St. Joseph, Missouri

Not a Cat

By Peg Nichols

Olathe, Kansas

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Feline . . . friend?

Shawnee Pasture

By Pat Daneman

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Shawnee Pasture

Author Anonymous
By Carl Rhoden

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Sometimes the bear eats YOU

Thermodynamics

By Shawn Pavey

--for my grandfather

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Thermodynamics'

Roman Dreams
By Silvia Kofler

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: When in Rome

John, Your passionate argument for the revision process was rooted in the worthy pursuit of craft. This quatrain from W.B. Yeats suggests that there may be more involved than mechanics. Tim

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Yeats or nay

The king ordered an enormous silver-gilt bath from Crespin, for one of these high-born nuns with low morals--it weighed 6,030 ounces, for which Crespin was paid a guinea an ounce. On one side was depicted Actaeon surprising Diana at her bath, implying that the king hoped to surprise his nun in the same way.

It all ended in tears.

from James Fenton: The Guardian: Basement treasures

One of my favourites is the short line, often used in the "skinny poem", as a friend of mine calls it--a poem which falls down the page in a narrow rivulet. You can see great examples of it in William Carlos Williams's This is Just to Say, or his famous poem, The Great Figure.

What's amazing about this poem is how Williams can take something that happens laterally--watching a firetruck move through a city street--and transform it into a vertical poetic event.

from John Freeman: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Skinny poetry's greater breadth

Joseph-Beth Booksellers on the South Side welcomes a steady flow of authors to its store, from porno-film actors such as Ron Jeremy to prize-winning novelists such as Michael Chabon, but it imposed a different set of rules for Pittsburgh poet Jan Beatty.

After the store initially rejected a reading because it found her poetry too "erotic" for its family-friendly store atmosphere, it then offered compromises to permit her to visit.

from Bob Hoover: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Bookstore and poet in war of words over reading

"Don't look at that woman over there, she's the one I'm talking about"--so, of course, we look.

Lot, his wife and their two daughters were led from the town of Sodom by two angels who could not find ten righteous men in order to spare it, and the neighbouring town of Gomorrah, from total destruction.

from Frieda Hughes: The Times: Monday Poem: A look back and anger

A colleague of his at Sheffield Hallam University, where they taught the highly successful Creative Writing course, Sean O'Brien, has described [E.A.] Markham as "tireless in his resistance to orthodoxy, whether artistic, cultural or political".

"The Widow's Eulogy", published in the TLS in December 2006, exemplifies the rapid dramatic sketching of his later poems.

The Widow's Eulogy

from Mick Imlah: The Times Literary Supplement: Poem of the Week: The Widow's Eulogy

And yet, when a girlfriend of mine watched her husband of 30 years drive off in a fancy sports car to "find himself," she took comfort in those words of [C.P.] Cavafy's set down more than a century ago. They fit perfectly on a postcard, which she mailed off to aforementioned husband--which proves the usefulness of poetry, if not its higher-mindedness.

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice

Poem: "House" by Billy Collins, from The Trouble with Poetry: And Other Poems.

from Garrison Keillor: The Writer's Almanac: For the week of April 21, 2008

I've mentioned how important close observation is in composing a vivid poem. In this scene by Arizona poet, Steve Orlen, the details not only help us to see the girls clearly, but the last detail is loaded with suggestion. The poem closes with the car door shutting, and we readers are shut out of what will happen, though we can guess.

Three Teenage Girls: 1956

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 160

When I was an English professor we had many fine poets read at the various universities where I taught. Precious few of them were any good at reading aloud. And no matter how prestigious the poet's name or how acclaimed the work, invariably students had to be corralled and herded in during their classes or coerced by some other means to attend.

from Anthony Maulucci: Norwich Bulletin: Should poets read their own work to others?

[Peter Mark] Roget (1779-1869) was an obsessive list maker and classifier, and in this new biography, "The Man Who Made Lists: Love, Death, Madness and the Creation of 'Roget's Thesaurus,' " Joshua Kendall suggests--with something like obsessive frequency--that the habit was a kind of bulwark shoring him up against depression and mental instability.

Madness ran in the family, at least on his mother's side.

from Charles McGrath: The New York Times: The Keeper (See: Steward, Caretaker) of Synonyms

8. Aren't a lot of contemporary song lyrics the real poetry of our time?

Read them aloud in your own voice, without the music, and see how they hold up compared with this:

Robert Hayden, "Those Winter Sundays"

from Robert Pinsky: Why Don't Modern Poems Rhyme, Etc

Peter Krok is the editor of the Schuylkill Valley Journal and serves as the humanities/poetry director of the Manayunk Art Center where he has coordinated a literary series since 1990.

from Belinda Subraman Presents: Peter Krok: poet, editor and director of Manayunk Art Center

[AimÃ©] CÃ©saire also did much to develop cultural activities from his mayorâ€™s officeâ€”encouraging theatre, music and handicrafts.

AimÃ© CÃ©saireâ€™s wider fame was due to his poetry and his plays â€” all with political implications, but heavily influenced by images from the subconscious. Thus it was that AndrÃ© Breton (1896-1966) writer and ideologue of the Surrealists saw in CÃ©saire a kindred soul and became a champion of CÃ©saireâ€™s writing.

from RenÃ© Wadlow's The Flutes of Dionysus: Newropeans Magazine: AimÃ© CÃ©saire: A Black Orpheus Puts Away His Lyre

By JC Sanders

with trials and frustration fraught--

from The Daily Texan: Poetry: A Student's Frustration

Elegies for Virginia Tech by Fred D'Aguiar

from The Guardian: Original Poetry: Elegies for Virginia Tech by Fred D'Aguiar

From Villa Stellar by George Barker

from The Guardian: Original Poetry: From Villa Stellar by George Barker

by Amy Hegarty
Our Father

from Guernica: Poetry: Two Poems

By Bui Thanh Tuan
I stretch my arm--raining

from The Kansas City Star: Between the Lines: 'A Belief'

Here Name Your
by Dora Malech

from The New Yorker: Poetry: Here Name Your

The World of the Senses
by Franz Wright

from The New Yorker: Poetry: The World of the Senses

by Adam Zagajewski
[Translated by Clare Cavanagh]
"The Church of Corpus Christi"

from Nextbook: Three Poems

[Lisa M. Steinman's] third book about poetry, "An Invitation to Poetry," was published in January (Wiley-Blackwell, $24.95, 256 pages). Since 1983 she has co-edited Hubbub, a nationally distributed poetry journal, with Jim Shugrue. "Free-Floating Anticipation" appears in the latest volume of The Grove Review.

from The Oregonian: Poetry

We think about Emily Dickinson and many of her poems could be elegy. Her famous poem, "After great pain formal feeling comes."

You need to know something about that state to write words like that. And I began to see something I was doing as well. I was distracting myself by doing what I do -- write poems and found it as a way of escaping this state of exquisite suffering.

The Role of Elegy

from PBS: Newshour: Mary Jo Bang Examines Grief's Poetic Form, the Elegy

By Temi Obaisi
Moorestown Friends School

Magical world

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Temi Obaisi]

By Ariel Scott
Camden Academy Charter High School

When You See Me, I Will Not Be the Same

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Ariel Scott]

By Hediya Sizar

My Love

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Hediya Sizar]

By Estelle Zhu

181

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Estelle Zhu]

[by John J. Witherspoon]
A Current Question

from Portsmouth Herald News: Poem: A Current Question

[Floyd] Skloot excels at capturing the fragments that make up a time, a place, a state of mind. Fully imagined and lustrous, they serve to bring to vivid and glaring life all of the richly textured and multi-layered facets of their subjects' realities.

Another variation on these historical and literary poems are those that bring the likes of Vladimir Nabokov or the last tsar of all the Russias, to him, to the poet himself, in his hilltop home in rural Oregon.

from Powells: Review-A-Day: Selected Poems: 1970-2005 by Floyd Skloot

"Harmless Poem"
By Stuart Dischell

from Slate: "Harmless Poem" --By Stuart Dischell

Poetic Obituaries

AimÃ© CÃ©saire, born in Basse-Pointe in Martinique on 25 June 1913, published the book-length poem Cahier d'un retour au pays natal (Notes on a Return To A Native Land) in 1939 as a reaction to French assimilatory cultural tendencies which tended to negate the very existence of Africans.

Placed on an evolutionary scale, the African could rise from a primitive, unlettered state to become an Ã©voluÃ© (evolved person), i.e. a Frenchman.

from Sunday Nation: AimÃ© Fernand CÃ©saire: Tribute to a literary monument

[Dr. Kwai Sing Chang's] spiritual quest took him from Buddhism, the religion of his Chinese ancestors, to Christianity. His studies took him from his native Hawaii to Princeton Theological Seminary, to Cambridge University in England and to the University of Edinburgh in Scotland for his doctorate. His career took him from pulpits in Hawaii to classrooms at Agnes Scott in 1956.

from The Atlanta Journal-Constitution: Kwai Sing Chang, 86, 'an exciting teacher'

Le Dat, who had joined the anti-French resistance as a boy, ran foul of the ruling Communist Party after Vietnam's independence in 1954 for his work centred around the critical literary magazines Nhan Van and Giai Pham.

During North Vietnam's brief period of artistic openness, Le Dat and fellow writers Hoang Cam, Phung Quan and Tran Dan called for free expression and criticised policies including harsh communist land reforms.

from The Daily Telegraph: Dissident poet dies after fall

In March 2004, Char [Charlene Dewbre] won second prize in the Interboard Poetry Contest (IBPC) for her poem "Empty Bowl" and I believe this poem represents a fitting way to remember a longtime friend, servant, and supporter of Desert Moon Review.

Dearest Charlene, love, you will be missed.

Empty Bowl
Charlene Dewbre

from Desert Moon Review: Charlene Dewbre, RIP

Joan Jackson, who died on April 11 aged 92, was in her earlier life Joan Hunter Dunn, the inspiration for Sir John Betjeman's most popular poem, A Subaltern's Love-song, which hymned her red-headed beauty as "furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun".

from Telegraph: Joan Jackson
also The Sunday Times: John Betjeman's muse: so you are the one, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn

The thing they remembered most was his love for music.

At the age of 12, [Daniel Dustin] Fite learned how to play guitar by listening to Jimi Hendrix. He always found a way to express how he felt through poetry and music, his family said.

from Gaston Gazette: Man killed in wreck made promise of being 'best father' to unborn child

As artists and poets come together this week in a collaborative project, the life of Manukau poet Bernard Gadd, who died aged 72 in December last year, sits in the back of their minds.

When late last year Cockle Bay poet and writer Siobhan Harvey began organising the Vision and Verse project, which sees local artists chose a local poet as inspiration, Bernard Gadd was one of the poets involved.

from Howick and Pakuranga Times: Poet remembered in vision and verse

Mrs. [Virginia G.] Haft enjoyed gardening, home decorating and traveling. She had written poetry since childhood and recently published a volume of her verse.

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Virginia G. Haft: Musician, poet, 83

Attracted by the Leftist outlook, he [Shantarasa Hemberalu] established a forum of writers in 1948 and published a literary magazine "Musuku There," a collection of poems, essays and social commentaries.

The work is said to be a milestone in the history of Kannada literature produced in the Hyderabad Karnataka region. He authored four anthologies of poems, five short story collections, four plays, four research volumes, five biographies, a novel and a number of articles on various issues.

from The Hindu: Shantarasa laid to rest

As a poet at open mics throughout San Francisco, he [Michael Kassel] embraced irony, current events and colorful language. In one memorable poem, he spoke of the frustration of coming across a padlocked outhouse in a moment of need.

"Welcome to America," he wrote, "where they lock up the s-."

Mr. Kassel was a guitarist, a pianist and percussionist, and he was the author of several books of poetry, including "Graveyard Golf" and "Going for the Low Blow." He was the author of a much-beloved poem titled "Your Love is Like a Red, Red Nose."

from San Francisco Chronicle: Michael Kassel dies--poet, blues musician

[Nader] Khalili also invented the Geltaftan Earth-and-Fire system. Most adobe houses are unable to withstand earthquakes and strong winds, so Kahlili imagined a fired-adobe structure--dubbed the "ceramic house"--that could resist these elements.

Born in Tehran as one of nine children, Khalili studied Persian literature and poetry at the University of Teheran.

from Architectural Record: Nader Khalili, Noted Earth Architect, Dies at 72

[Micky Lee King's] yard was the hangout where he and his friends would enjoy his fire pit and just being together. He had just found that he had a talent for writing cowboy poetry, and enjoyed reading it to family and friends.

from AzJournal.com: Micky Lee King

[Jean D. Sutton] had a wonderful sense of humor and many talents, from writing to painting and music. She won public recognition when a poem she wrote for her children was published in the 1950s, and that led to several articles in Readers Digest. When her children grew up, she went back to school, earned a master's degree at Montclair State College and became an English teacher at Montclair High School.

from Times-News: Jean D. Sutton, 90

Mikhail Isaevich Tanich was born in 1923 in Taganrog. He was at front during the Great Patriotic War. In 1950 Tanich started writing verses and publishing them in Moscow editions. His first song, namely Textile Town carried the poet forward.

from Russia-InfoCentre: Famous Poet Mikhail Tanich Passes Away

"He was one of those people who didn't like the limelight, didn't want the credit," [Jim] Allen said. "We'll miss him. He was a big part of our school."

In his spare time, [Daniel] Toney wrote poetry, some of which was recently published in a book titled "The Observer."

from The Herald-Dispatch: Longtime Barboursville teacher loses cancer battle

If poetry is a sound, Jonathan [Williams] made it. For years, he drove across America in a battered Volkswagen, its trunk full of boxes of books, and spread poetry--"our Johnny Appleseed," Buckminster Fuller called him. When he stood up to read--tall, imposing, masking shyness with a forbidding sternness--the poems became sound, rolling out with the rich savor of whisky and cigar smoke that colored his voice, and gradually sweeping away the reservations of listeners who, braced for Great Thoughts, found instead humor and homespun truths and even gleeful obscenity. You never knew what was coming.

from The Washington Post: Jonathan Williams, 1929-2008

Yu [Zhou] won a following among young Chinese for his mellow folk ballads. His group, Xiao Juan and Residents from the Valley, released two successful CDs and appeared on the Phoenix television channel.

Yu was a graduate of Beijing University. He married Xu Na, 40, a poet and painter who was imprisoned between 2001 and 2006 for her association with Falun Gong. The group said she was also arrested on January 26 and remains in custody.

from The Sunday Times: Yu Zhou dies as China launches pre-Olympic purge of Falun Gong

4/15/2008

News at Eleven

[Maxine Kumin is] focused on the poems she's writing--about nature, the war in Iraq, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge--and on the necessity of remaining vigilant as a writer. "I've reached a point in life where it would be easy to let down my guard and write simple imagistic poems. But I don't want to write poems that aren't necessary. I want to write poems that matter, that have an interesting point of view."

from Christian Science Monitor: For Maxine Kumin, 'Writing is my salvation'

The best, and best-loved, contemporary poets do more than feel the pulse of the times or capture verbal snapshots. They also reveal something about the nature of poetry--what it is and why it resonates--that readers crave but don't find elsewhere.

Mary Oliver and Mark Doty do just that, though in vastly different ways.

from Christian Science Monitor: New work from two poetry pros satisfies both ear and mind

[Peter Thabit] Jones is thrilled for Aeronwy [Thomas], he said, and for people to get an opportunity to listen to her "poetic concerns" and to see the quality of her poetry. She has had to work hard "under the enormous shadow of a great and very famous poet."

In a 1953 interview in The New York Times, Dylan Thomas said that poetry is "statements made on the way to the grave."

from The East Hampton Star: Welsh Poetry With a Touch of Thomas

Death can also seem pretty absurd to the living, and [Grace] Paley does not deny the reader an occasional dark chortle, as when she admits to being proud of seeing her diagnosis reported on in the New York Times. The same untitled poem continues with a list of precautions she took, "I have eaten the freshest most/organic and colorful fruits and/vegetables." She thinks, "obviously I have done something wrong," then apologizes: "I am/already old and therefore a little ashamed/to have written this poem full/of complaints against mortality."

from San Francisco Chronicle: Paley's 'Fidelity,' posthumous poems

[Ted Kooser:] You know, I don't get on the Internet and look for that, but I hear . . . that this is a big deal. How there are so many poetry Web sites and poetry blogs and people sharing their work online. I notice with my graduate students -- they'll mention having a poem published, and it turns out that it will be online. I think . . . there are . . . many more young people writing poetry today who have ambitions to be recognized as poets. I don't know if more people are writing, but more have this ambition.

from Erie Times-News: Present Poet

The campaign is being spearheaded by Michael George Gibson, who said it was 'disgraceful' that the Poetry Society had failed to respond properly to his demands for a definition. 'For centuries word-things, called poems, have been made according to primary and defining craft principles of, first, measure and, second, alliteration and rhyme,' said Gibson. 'Word-things not made according to those principles are not poems.' True poems, he said, gave the reader or listener a 'special pleasure'.

from The Guardian: Poetry guardians reject modern verse

Though he is keen on the exotic--and the poem is packed with wonderfully vivid and elaborate descriptions, sometimes reminiscent of Byron, sometimes of Borges, of fabulous beasts and landscapes and great Eastern warlords and potentates--[Matthew] Francis's Mandeville is obsessed by how the world keeps changing shape and texture, how his descriptions of things teach him strange lessons.

from The Guardian: Simply fantastic

Almost certainly the correct answer is Isaac Rosenberg, who was born into a family of Yiddish-speaking Lithuanian Jewish immigrants in 1890. His father was a pedlar; his mother took in washing and sold fancy needlework. The first London home they found for themselves and their five children was a single room behind a rag-and-bone shop in Tower Hamlets.

from The Sunday Times: Isaac Rosenberg: The Making of a Great War Poet: A New Life by Jean Moorcroft Wilson

PEN American Center today named Chinese dissident writer Yang Tongyan, who is currently serving a 12-year prison sentence, as recipient of its 2008 PEN/Barbara Goldsmith Freedom to Write Award.

The award, which honors international literary figures who have been persecuted or imprisoned for exercising or defending the right to freedom of expression, will be presented at PENâ€™s Annual Gala on April 28, 2008 at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. Distinguished writer, historian, and PEN Trustee Barbara Goldsmith underwrites the award.

Yang Tongyan is a dissident writer and member of the Independent Chinese PEN Center (ICPC). He is known for his critical writings published on web sites such as Boxun.com and EpochTimes.com. His online publications include poems, essays, novels, short stories and memos, many of which were written while in prison.

from PEN American Center: Yang Tongyan to Receive 2008 PEN/Barbara Goldsmith Freedom to Write Award

Reporters Without Borders "firmly condemns" the four-year prison sentence which a Damascus state security court passed this week on writer and poet Firas Saad for disseminating allegedly false information online. Currently held in Saydnaya prison north of the capital, he was accused of undermining the "integrity of the state" and "national sentiment."

"This sentence is unjust because all Saad did was criticise the government," the press freedom organisation said.

from Reporters Without Borders: Call for release of writer and poet sentenced to four years in prison for criticising government online

Speaking by telephone from undisclosed locations in connection with that hearing, [Yusuf] Juma's fugitive wife and a third son told RFE/RL's Uzbek Service that their jailed family members have been "tortured," including being forced to watch the other sibling being beaten.

Juma, his son Bobur, and other family members conducted a "picket on wheels" in their hometown of Bukhara ahead of the December presidential election to call for a boycott and the resignation of Karimov, who won a controversial new term that appears to violate a constitutional ban on third terms.

from Radio Free Europe: Radio Liberty: Uzbekistan: Family Says Jailed Poet, Sons Are Being Tortured

Great Regulars

[Ken] Arnold and his wife [Connie Kirk] came to Portland with a plan for a publishing company, one that would break away from the traditional model of printing a set number of books, shipping them to stores through a wholesaler, and accepting returns of those that don't sell. They have entered the topsy-turvy world of print on demand, in which a book is stored digitally and printed only when a customer orders it.

from Jeff Baker: The Oregonian: Bookmarks: Local publisher saves trees

It presents the woman not just as a woman but as a composite for the ways that women suffer the debilitation of wartime. She represents the domestic, yes, but in a larger context she becomes the state itself, awaiting news about the fate of the nation.

Women [by Yannis Ritsos]

from David Biespiel: The Oregonian: Poetry

Baby, You Can't Drive My Car
By John Mark Eberhart

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Dreamgirl

Geography
By Daniel Michael Ford

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Geography'

John Adams

By Jon Herbert Arkham

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'John Adams'

Soft Lips Opening
By Greg Field

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Soft Lips . . .'

Unseasonably Warm

By Pat Daneman

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: 'Unseasonably Warm'

You can imagine people thinking: poor old Goethe, yet another victim of Coleridge's internal chaos.

One scholar who took a different view was Paul M Zall, who in 1971 began to put together a case that Coleridge had indeed translated Faust, and published his work in 1821, but had done so anonymously. The version is not complete.

from James Fenton: The Guardian: Faust lost in translation?

For this reason, the books I wish made it onto lists of essential Iraq reading more frequently are Anthony Shadid's Night Draws Near and Patrick Cockburn's The Occupation. Both writers speak Arabic, and don't have to rely on guides and translators. Both spend time all over Iraq, not just in Baghdad or safer regions. Cockburn has been writing about the country since 1978. It's possible no other reporter in the world knows as much about the country as he does.

from John Freeman: theblogbooks: Where did the Iraqis get to in books about Iraq?

About [Etheridge] Knight's haiku skill, critic Joyce Ann Joyce writes: "Using this brief form that demanded precision to hone his skill, Knight produced poetry that was humorous, urbane or sophisticated, colloquial, historical, political, musical, rhythmical, and spiritual."

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: April Poet--Etheridge Knight

[Lawrence] Ferlinghetti's work is quite distinct from the Beats. A perceptive critic has remarked, "I hope I won't seem politically incorrect for saying this, but after immersing myself in the writings of the guilt-obsessed asexual Jack Kerouac, the ridiculously horny Allen Ginsberg and the just plain sordid William S. Burroughs . . . it's nice to read a few poems by a guy who can get excited about a little penny candy store under the El or a pretty woman letting a stocking drop to the floor."

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: March Poet-- Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Polanco's "Identity" is an Internet favorite. It is the kind of verse that satisfies readers whose interest in poetry remains one-dimensional.

The speaker of the poem declares that unlike other misguided souls who choose a disciplined life, he prefers to be a rowdy rebel.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Polanco's 'Identity'

Celebrations are "solemn" and "seldom," just as the jewels that decorate a necklace or tiara are "thinly placed."

The speaker is celebrating and emphasizing the fact that pleasure is best when mildly and infrequently indulged. It is a human predilection to desire overindulgence in those things, people, and events found favorable.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Shakespeare Sonnet 52

The traveler suffers from "[t]he wordless worry of his heart." This longing is very difficult to name; many individuals suffer for decades before they become aware that what they are really seeking is God.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Yogananda's 'The Cup of Eternity'

There's something about a poem that speaks to the unique nature in all of us, and one American poet--Walt Whitman--stands alone in establishing that power.

The voice America heard singing in 1855 was so distinct and new that it eventually turned the country, and its comfort with the genteel poems of the day, on its ear. A citizenry expecting poetry to celebrate a national hero or patriotic event instead heard, "I celebrate myself."

from Bob Hoover: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Whitman helped end poetry 'lite'
also from PBS: American Experience: Walt Whitman

While it devalues us if the person we love/share our bed/life/children with will not listen to our reasonable efforts to "make friends before one of us dies", here, the husband is locked in a war against death, which he will ultimately lose; his level of frustration must surely be exacerbated by his fear of this, and all he must go through in his efforts to live.

from Frieda Hughes: The Times: Monday Poem: Marriage: the ecstasy and agony

Not all poetry aims for beauty. Chilean Nicanor Parra's antipoetry assaults capital-P Prettiness as frou-frou leftover from an antique age. His language is blunt as a diner waitress's--non-symbolic, non-lyrical. The antipoem's burlesque charm hits like a nightstick.

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice

Poem: "Waiting for Icarus" by Muriel Rukeyser, from The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukeyser.

from Garrison Keillor: The Writer's Almanac: For the week of April 14, 2008

Bad news all too often arrives with a ringing telephone, all too early in the morning. But sometimes it comes with less emphasis, by regular mail. Here Allan Peterson of Florida gets at the feelings of receiving bad news by letter, not by directly stating how he feels but by suddenly noticing the world that surrounds the moment when that news arrives.

The Inevitable

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 159

Black British writers have unveiled and critiqued Britainâ€™s creaking welfare state, educational system, foster care practices, and neighborhood mores. Their novels and short stories explore all aspects of life: home, love, sex, marriage, children, work; and they do so with wit, passionate intelligence, and great good humor. Their poems, too, sound out many of the same themes, imbuing the language with the verve and originality that come from artistic legacies inherited from nearly every corner of the old British Empire. [--R. Victoria Arana]

from E. Ethelbert Miller: Foreign Policy in Focus: Fiesta!: Interview with R. Victoria Arana

In this poem, Browning portrays himself looking up, squinting at a distant star that fascinates, enchants, and inspires him. . . But this is more than a mere star; it's a symbol for something that gives his life some light and some truth. But what could it be?

from Christopher Nield: The Epoch Times: The Antidote-- Classic Poetry for Modern Life:

[Alfred] Tennyson began to work on In Memoriam immediately. It was finally published in 1850. "The sections were written at many different places, and as the phases of our intercourse came to my memory and suggested them," he explained. "I did not write them with any view of weaving them into a whole, or for publication, until I found that I had written so many. The different moods of sorrow as in a drama are dramatically given . . . It is rather the cry of the whole human race than mine."

from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Poem of the week

[by Maria Miranda-Maloney]
Spring comes

from Donna Snyder: Newspaper Tree: Tumblewords Poetry: Maria Miranda-Maloney

Maurya Simon is the author of The Enchanted Room and Days of Awe (Copper Canyon Press, 1986, 1989), Speaking in Tongues (Gibbs Smith, 1990), which was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, and The Golden Labyrinth (University of Missouri Press, 1995).

from Belinda Subraman Presents: Maurya Simon, poet and nominee for a Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award

The moment of recall triggered by the later poem gives you the actual experience of remembrance that is what this book is largely about. And it is vital to know how [Frank] Bidart's poems work in order to fully appreciate what he is trying to get across in them.

Together, the poems provide a kind of spectrographic analysis of the crystal that is the self, and if the "Ulanova" poem is the centerpiece of the collection, the poem that seems best to encapsulate it is "Seduction."

from Frank Wilson: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: Remembering, reconnecting, Bidart reveals himself

by C. Dale Young

The Moss Garden

from The Atlantic Monthly: Poetry: The Moss Garden

[by Ken Weisner]

Spring Writing Retreat
Logos, Camaldoli Hermitage, Lucia CA.

For three days, you look down on ocean and fog

from Good Times Weekly: Poetry Corner: Poetry by Ken Weisner

What's Black and White and Red all Over? by Patience Agbabi

from The Guardian: The Saturday poem: What's Black and White and Red all Over? by Patience Agbabi

Each of the gifts will be an experience for one of their five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. I emphasise an experience, not an object--you can't give them a bar of chocolate, but you can give them the taste of chocolate, or even, if you prefer, its smell.

from The Guardian: Poetry workshop: Matthew Francis's workshop

By Sophia Myers
[Regret]

from The Kansas City Star: Between the Lines: 'Regret,' by Sophia Myers

In Italy
by Derek Walcott

from The New Yorker: Poetry: In Italy

New Year
by Rachel Hadas

from The New Yorker: Poetry: New Year

By Jessica Cammarota

Pleasant Valley School

Flowers

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Jessica Cammarota]

By Laura Ferruggia

Eastern Regional High School

Porcelain

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Laura Ferruggia]

By Tyeler Jones

What is Cool

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Tyeler Jones]

By Kevin Liu

An Accident

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Kevin Liu]

"[The line between heaven and earth]"
By Michael McGriff

from Slate: "[The line between heaven and earth]" --By Michael McGriff

Poetic Obituaries

There, in 1936, came her [Ludu Daw Amar's] role in the student strike. She also began to get published. In 1938 she translated the British civil servant Maurice Collis's critical assessment, Trials in Burma. In 1939 she married the journalist U Hla, who in 1933 had established the leftist Ludu Kyi-bwa-yay (Progress) magazine in Rangoon. Together they set up the Kyi-bwa-yay press in Mandalay.

from The Guardian: Ludu Daw Amar

[Carol Burdick] enjoyed the company of writers and was an accomplished writer herself. Her poetry appeared in literary journals, and she published several articles in The New York Times, Readers Digest and The Boston Globe. Along with "Haps and Mishaps," a compilation of columns she wrote for The Alfred Sun, her books included "Stop Calling Me Mr. Darling!" and "Woman Alone; a Farmhouse Journal."

"She had an uncanny knack for words," [Alan] Littell said. "She had a very easy style."

from The Evening Tribune: Carol Burdick, beloved Alfred University faculty member, passes away Saturday

[John R. Day] is the author of two books, as well as a book of poetry. His last book, My Bahama Islands, was published in 2006 and has been endorsed by the editor of the Yachtsman's Guide to the Bahamas and the Bahamian Tourist Board as a book of importance. It details vignettes for 30 years of sailing in the Bahamas.

from Times-News: John R. Day

[Parvin] Dowlatabadi, who dedicated most of her life to cultural activities and writing for children, was one of the founders of Iran's Children's Book Council.

'Fire and Water', 'The Stone City', 'The Silvery Crescent', 'Sailing on Clouds' and 'Sparrow and the Toad' are among Dowlatabadi's memorable books.

from Pavland News: Iranian author Parvin Dowlatabadi dies at 84

An arranged match with a dignified suitor did not respond to a headstrong woman's craving for greater tasks outside the limited framework of stifling marital life.

Her [Mariam Firuz's] first bold step was to establish a literary salon, attended by some of the most talented Iranian minds of the time-- poets, litterateurs, erudite scholars-- at least two of whom were infatuated with her combination of beauty, personality and high intellect.

from Payvand News: Persian, Pasionaria and Princess: In Memory of Mariam Firuz (1913-2008)

He lived in London for many years, working in journalism and adult education, and co-edited the 'Faber Book of Contemporary Poetry' in 1949 with Valerie Iremonger at the request of T.S Eliot, before returning to Dublin where he lived until his death.

Robert Greacen won the Irish Times Literature Prize For Poetry for his 'Collected Poems 1944-1994' in 1995, after which he commented: "As a younger man I was a wordy spinner. My later work is less wordy, more compressed."

from RTÃ‰: Poet Robert Greacen dies aged 87

The first part of the ceremony was devoted to memories of [Charlton] Heston. His daughter, Holly Heston Rochell, recalled her father's love of poetry and recited the words of Shakespeare and Tennyson.

from WSAW: Politicians, actors and relatives gather for funeral of Hollywood icon Charlton Heston

[Marion] Hilberry, a former English instructor and the wife of poet and former Kalamazoo College professor Conrad Hilberry, died Tuesday at 84.

Marion Hilberry taught English at DePauw University in Greencastle, Ind., Nazareth College, Kalamazoo College and Western Michigan University.

"She was really a remarkable woman," said Kalamazoo poet Marie Bahlke, who has known the Hilberrys since the early 1960s.

from Kalamazoo Gazette: Wife of poet had 'wise eye and wise ear'

Archie [Markham] joined Sheffield City Polytechnic in 1991 to spearhead its MA Writing course which is now regarded as one of the top creative-writing degrees in the country.

from The Star: Popular writer Archie has died in Paris

Other academic interests included the work of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath, on which she [Marianne Nault Jennings] made contributions to BBC2's The Late Show and Radio 4's Women's Hour .

She and Mr [John] Jennings, who lived at Shelfield near Stratford-upon-Avon, were members of the Stratford Playwrights group, under whose banner two more of her plays were produced. She also wrote poetry, some of which was published in literary magzines including Stand.

from The Birmingham Post: Marianne Nault dies aged 65

"Abe always believed that you fight for what you believe to be right. Always," said [Howard] Gale. "If you did that, you were expressing something that's deepest and best in human nature."

In 1984, [Abe] Osheroff was one of the key protagonists in a documentary, "The Good Fight," about Americans in Spain during the 1930s. In 2000, he made another film, "Art in the Struggle for Freedom," about the poetry and poster art of the Spanish Civil War.

from Seattle Times: Abe Osheroff had a life right out of a movie

[Jean Carol (Matt) Pitz] was a very talented writer which included poetry, Christmas programs, and skits. Jean was always ready to share her creative expertise with her family, which included handcrafting a unique Christmas gift for each of them every year.

from Sheboygan Press: Jean Carol (Matt) Pitz

He wrote poems and screenplays and was conversant in philosophy. But something in his makeup would not allow him to entirely abandon the idea behind our profession. Rick Rescorla eventually became the director of security for Morgan Stanley in their offices at the World Trade Center.

He had not, however, forgotten his origins as a warrior poet.

from Media Matters: Rick Rescorla

The art form rendered famous by [Kedamangalam] Sadanandan and his late contemporary Sambasivan is called 'Kathaprasangam' or story-telling. It is a kind of solo performance on stage wherein the narrator, without make-up, to some accompaniment of music dramatises a story.

Its earthy narration is interspersed with dialogue punctuated by wit and emotion. A veteran of over sell-out 15,000 shows, Sadanandan introduced classic medieval works of Shelley and Victor Hugo to Malayalam audiences.

from Zee News: Sadanandan, storyteller par-excellence, dies

Kashmir's leading artist, poet and broadcaster Shuja Sultan, 63, who made a mark in the world of art with his acrylic and oil abstract nature paintings, is no more! He created some great art works which earned him accolades from art lovers across the globe.

from Greater Kashmir: Artist Shuja Sultan is no more

[Mahinarangi] Tocker and her guitar were frequent and popular additions to LGBT fundraisers and events like Auckland's Big Gay Out, and she has also performed at Sydney's Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. She also gave lectures around New Zealand about the use of music and creativity to boost learning and self-esteem, and was an adult literacy tutor, writer and poet.

from GayNZ.com: Singer/songwriter Mahinarangi Tocker dies

Dan Toney was a teacher at the Cabell County school for 36 years. He's carried the titles of coach, teacher, father, husband and son.

Last year on Father's day, his children surprised him with a published book of his poetry.

from WOWK-TV: Beloved Teacher Passes Away

Last October, [Cpl. Cody] Wanken told the Des Moines Register how he wrote a poem about war to push people to realize that "war isn't fun and games."

The poem was distributed at his funeral. It talks of a young Marine who "throws up and cries for Jesus."

"They say war isn't a game, or is it?" he wrote. "People watch t.v. or play video games and want it. But they don't know what nightmares are and what dead bodies smell like."

from The Des Moines Register: Iowa man's funeral: 'He dreamed of doing his part . . . as a Marine'

[John Wheeler] strolled Princeton streets with Albert Einstein, debating the meaning of quantum theory. With Bryce DeWitt he dared to apply the strangeness of the quantum world to the universe as a whole, founding the field of quantum cosmology and writing down the infamous Wheeler-DeWitt equation - the "wavefunction of the universe" - or as DeWitt calls it, "that damned equation". With his flair for poetry, Wheeler coined the terms "black hole" and "wormhole", words that captured the imaginations of physicists and the public alike.

from New Scientist: Quantum pioneer John Wheeler dies

In the 1960s, she [Marjorie Ziprick] wrote a book, "The Influence of the D'Este Family on the Rise of National Music in Italy," and in 1979 she wrote an article on composer Arthur Farwell, one of her former teachers, for the California Music Teachers magazine.

She also composed music and was commissioned to set to music the winning poem of the 1972 California Poetry Competition sponsored by the California Federation of Chaparral Poets.

from Redlands Daily Facts: Prominent musician, civic leader dies

4/08/2008

News at Eleven

In their announcement, the Pulitzer judges noted the familiar landscapes of [Robert] Hass's winning poetry--San Francisco, the Northern California coast, the Sierra high country--"in addition to some of his oft-explored themes: art; the natural world; the nature of desire; the violence of history; the power and limits of language; and, as in his other books, domestic life and the conversation between men and women. New themes emerge as well, perhaps: the essence of memory and of time."

from UC Berkeley News: English professor Robert Hass wins Pulitzer Prize for poetry for "Time and Materials"

The word man is reading. Who knows if this will be his last time?

It's a Sunday afternoon at Politics and Prose in Northwest Washington, and a goodly crowd has gathered to celebrate Reed Whittemore's "Against the Grain: The Literary Life of a Poet," which was published last fall. Whittemore is the author of 20 books and a former poetry consultant to the Library of Congress, a job since renamed, more grandly, Poet Laureate.

He is also 88 years old, with a memory that has betrayed him.

from The Washington Post: Reed Whittemore, Handyman to the Muse

There is a sameness to the hundreds of shorter poems [Philip] Whalen wrote mainly in America ("takes," he called them). A speaker addresses an absent reader in tones both plaintive and jocular, taking pleasure in beauty, fretting about day-to-day getting by, observing the inevitability of death and decay, leaving the reader with a cheerful non sequitur and flash of insight. As he self-deprecatingly put it in a poem from 1959,

I've run so far in one circle I'm
visible now
only from the chest upwards
Any poet who's really any good
Dances a complicated maze on top
of the ground
scarcely wearing out the grass

from The Nation: One Sun Roaring

[Nguyen Chi Thien:] I was put in leg shackles in a dark cell for eight years, and I was given a tiny portion of rotten rice with salt water once a day. In those terrible conditions, it was meditation that helped me to survive the madness all around. It helped me to reach a tranquility of mind.

Also, I had great passion for poetry, so lying shackled in leg fetters, I had been concentrating all my efforts, all the power of my mind, creating poetry. It kept me alive, and helped me not to become insane. I've learned to take advantage of every adversity, every misery, so I could extract something beautiful, something useful.

from The Epoch Times: Exclusive Interview with Nguyen Chi Thien (Part II)
also The Epoch Times: Exclusive Interview with Nguyen Chi Thien (Part I)

[Galway] Kinnell once commented that poetry might be the "canary in the mine-shaft."

"Of course I was thinking that one of the places and one of the ways of keeping the lovely and precious from dying out would be poetry," he says today. "I think you could extend that to: A whole culture of a country could be kept alive through poetry. So many, many people write in this country that it's quite astonishing."

from Bookslut: An Interview with Galway Kinnell

"More and more of my poems have presented themselves as sites for exploring aspects of the world that I'd like to understand more fully," [Tracy K.] Smith said.

For example, the poem "Into the Moonless Night" is based on a story she read in The New York Times Magazine about four Ugandan high school girls who were abducted by rebel soldiers and forced to act as their wives, bear them children and also commit crimes. Ultimately, the women returned to their communities and had to find ways to fit in again.

from News at Princeton: Seeking the magic of poetry

And now the heavy lifting starts: it's time to go through the poem a third time, carefully, and test our theory by looking at evidence from the text and any of the techniques or "moves" used by the poet.

Okay, in reality you canâ€™t always read a poem three times. Still, the approach--to develop a first impression, generate a theory, and demonstrate your theory through close analysis--models purposeful reading habits and stresses the idea that a poem's meaning, as well as its beauty, doesnâ€™t always emerge the first time through.

from PBS Teachers: Taking the Pain Out of Poetry

Those odd blank gaps within lines, a frequent choice in [Grace] Paley's verse, and her paucity of capitalization and punctuation, create a somewhat E. E. Cummings effect; but then Cummings owed much to Emily Dickinson. Where Dickinson used capitals and dashes to create unexpected pauses, and thus to heighten meaning, Paley uses lowercase letters and white space. It's hard not to hear Dickinson's "I'm Nobody! Who are you?/Are you--Nobody--too?" behind Paley's untitled poem that begins "before I was nobody/I was me after/I was nobody I/was me."

from The New York Times: At the Last Minute

Like a golden monster it seized his flesh, and then it sought the bone,
Ha! Ha!
And then it sought the bone.

Like "the living fleece" of her protagonist's golden hair, Helen Adam's grue is animated by primordial femaleness. Even when monstrous acts are committed by the men in her verses, they are driven by and against the femme fatale's generative power. The collages she made (some of which are reproduced in the Reader and the DVD) show coiffed models from advertising pages juxtaposed with insects and rodents--the teeming life of the earth.

from The Nation: A Nurse of Enchantment

Based on court documents as well as interviews with [Paul] Bailey and five of the abused women, the collection of 81 poems explores the experiences of [Charles] Sylvestre's victims.

"I want it to be a unique voice for the women," says [Mary Ann] Mulhern. "Court documents are very factual, dry. I'm hoping the imagery of the poetry will have a heavy impact on the reader."

from The Windsor Star: 'Angels are weeping'

After the plane landed, a young woman sitting behind her got on her cell phone, then exclaimed, "Oh, my God, there's been a shooting at Virginia Tech."

"And she said, 'Oh, my God, 21 people!' " [Nikki] Giovanni recalls. "And we all turned, you know, and to the person we all said, 'Oh, no, that must be, it must mean one or two, and somebody got two and one mixed up.' "

Inside the terminal, televisions confirmed the news. Only it was worse.

from The Virginian-Pilot: Tech professor reflects on tragedy

Great Regulars

The Camps
By Shirley Rickett

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: The Camps

Life Everlasting

By J. Richard Callahan

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Life and everything after

I'd appreciate feedback, as we did for H.C. Palmer recently. Couple of things: This poem may figure into a new book concept I'm developing called "Some Kind of Superman." It's about aging disgracefully, I guess. Also, this is a sonnet, and as many of you know, I mostly stick to free verse.--JME

Channeling Clark Kent
By John Mark Eberhart

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Poetry Lab II

A Birthday
By Michelle Boisseau

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Say, it's Boisseau

Sonnet for Tatiana
By Timothy Pettet

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: SpringTim

Controlled Burn
By Kathleen Johnson

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: A Woodley fire

A garden is not a jungle, even though we like to use the word to indicate a wild tangle of neglect. In a jungle there is a continual process of growth and destruction: dead wood keeps falling from the canopy, and one is well advised, during any high wind in the rain-forest, to make for open ground, to seek safety on the river bank. There is continual destruction and continual renewal.

from James Fenton: The Guardian: Come into the garden

He colorfully expresses that idea, by describing the "petal" as wafting through the air "till it settles/On [her] hair."

The image of a petal on hair paints a delicate picture that his love will have created, that is, if she does, indeed, find one of them "fair." He makes no account for the possibility that none of them will connect with her, so he must feel confident in his creations as well as his wife's taste.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Oscar Wilde's 'To My Wife'

The selfish hippy-sixties that brought moral equivalency and degeneracy to an entire generation began with Ginsberg's "Howl." This speaker delivers a moral judgment that attempts to mitigate that debauchery, even if it cannot obliterate it.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Sedam's 'Desafinado'

This speaker is happiest when he is thinking of love; he is most content when he is creating his sonnet worlds that hold his love, precious letters from his soul. The impediment of the beast of burden, horse-like body, cannot hold sway over the immortal soul.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Shakespeare Sonnet 51

11. I want to urge my fellow Tibetans who live in freedom outside Tibet to be extra vigilant as they voice their feelings on the developments in Tibet. We should not engage in any action that could be even remotely interpreted as violent. Even under the most provocative of situations we must not allow our most precious and deeply held values to be compromised. I firmly believe that we will achieve success through our non-violent path. We must be wise to understand where the unprecedented affection and support for our cause stems from.

12. As Tibet is currently virtually closed and no international media is allowed there, I doubt my message will reach the Tibetans in Tibet. But I hope through media and by word of mouth, it will be passed on to the majority of you.

from Tenzin Gyatso: The Office of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama: Statement of His Holiness the Dalai Lama to All Tibetans

"Katyusha Rockets" is the title of a handful of powerful, image-searing works that [Brian] Turner read at the International Poetry Forum's season finale.

The poem follows the rocket's trail from Iraq to the United States, a symbol of how the fear of death remains in the veteran's mind after coming home:

Rockets often fall
in the night sky of the skull, down long avenues
of the brain's myelin sheathing, over synapses
and the rough structures of thought . . .

from Bob Hoover: Post-Gazette: Brian Turner reading launches Poetry Month

As an audiophile he is a man who enjoys the reproduction of sound. His tractor, the weather and the noises of the birds and insects are the improvised music that he listens to, mixed in the field that is his own sound studio.

I have often wanted to bug our three dogs with a camera and mike.

from Frieda Hughes: The Times: Monday Poem: The farmer has his day--twice

by Mick Imlah
I'm not suggesting he was Oscar Wilde . . .
(Archibald Primrose, 1847â€“)

from Mick Imlah: The Times Literary Supplement: Poem of the Week: Rosebery: A new poem by Mick Imlah

At the end, "what cannot stay small forever" becomes not just the size of Spokane, but the pin dot of light that a near-death survivor swims toward.

[Heather] McHugh's new elegy begins at the graveside, where she has added three spades of earth, rather than the two everyone else hefts.

Not to Be Dwelled On

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice

Poem: "We Bring Democracy To The Fish" by Donald Hall, from White Apples and the Taste of Stone.

from Garrison Keillor: The Writer's Almanac: For the week of April 7, 2008

Putting bed pillows onto the grass to freshen, it's a pretty humble subject for a poem, but look how Kentucky poet, Frank Steele, deftly uses a sun-warmed pillow to bring back the comfort and security of childhood.

Part of a Legacy

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 158

Then comes the true action of the poem: penance. The narrator counts his "sins" and hopes for forgiveness. He sees his yard as a "stony patch of garden" not too distant from Eden. He stresses his audit of "pleasures," including the volunteer weeds.

Klieg Lights

from Denise Low: Ad Astra Poetry Project: Thomas Zvi Wilson (1931 - )

Why do we wish to attribute this phenomenon to skill, talent or attendance at the Iowa Writers Workshop when it's something much bigger than that and defies all rational explanation?

I can confirm that when I was writing some of my best and most inspired work I felt as if I was under the influence of some greater power. It was indeed like "taking dictation."

from Anthony Maulucci: Norwich Bulletin: Semantic line exists between insanity, inspiration

Following months of increasing financial troubles for the Mount, Edith Wharton's home in Lenox, Mass., the president of the organization that owns and maintains the property has resigned rather than accept a new position in a restructured management, trustees said. Under the president, Stephanie Copeland, the Mount was restored to much the way it was when Wharton built it in 1902, and it won several awards for preservation.

from Charles McGrath: The New York Times: Leader Quits at the Mount, Former Home of Wharton

[SinÃ©ad Morrissey] has collected an impressive array of awards for her work and is considered to be one of a gifted new generation of Northern Irish poets under 40.

Through the Square Window

from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Poem of the week

[Deborah Bogen's] work has been featured twice on Poetry Daily and twice on Verse Daily. One of her poems has been chosen by Poetry Daily for inclusion in their new hardcopy anthology. Her chapbook, Living by the Children's Cemetery, was chosen by Edward Hirsch as the winner of the 2002 ByLine Press Competition and her full-length collection, Landscape with Silos, was a National Poetry Series finalist in 2004 and won the 2005 X.J. Kennedy Poetry Prize (judged by Betty Adcock). Landscape with Silos, was released by Texas Review Press in August 2006

from Belinda Subraman Presents: Deborah Bogen: author of Landscape with Silos

[Fleda Brown] has read and lectured in secondary schools, retirement communities, libraries, bookstores, a prison for delinquent adolescents, Rotary Clubs, AAUWs, and many universities and colleges, from Oxford University, London, to small liberal arts colleges. She has slept in a bunkhouse and has read with cowboy poets in North Dakota, and she has read for the Governor of Delaware and for the Delaware Legislature.

from Belinda Subraman Presents: Fleda Brown: Delaware Poet Laureate 2001-2007

One reads fiction and poetry, one attends plays--Bill [William J. Lynch Sr.] was big on theater--in order to learn how to observe life better in order to live it well. He taught the course in Chaucer and I can still remember him pointing out that we've all met the Wife of Bath--and so we have; in fact, I believe she was my grandmother.

from Frank Wilson: Books Inq.: The Epilogue: In memoriam . . .

by Dana Ward

Le Cupcake

from The Brooklyn Rail: Poetry: "Le Cupcake," "Castaway"

by Hoa Nguyen

Fraying

from The Brooklyn Rail: Poetry: Three Poems

Untitled Soap Bubble
by Rod Smith

from The Brooklyn Rail: Poetry: Untitled Soap Bubble

Translation by Gillian Clarke

from The Guardian: The Saturday poem: Translation by Gillian Clarke

Auld Lang Syne
by Emily Moore

from The New Yorker: Poetry: Auld Lang Syne

In the New York Public Library
by Michael Longley

from The New Yorker: Poetry: In the New York Public Library

Listen to Carly Sachs read her poems
Clarification
Postcard from Cristina
Winter

from Nextbook: Three Poems

--Lucille Clifton, St. Mary's City, Md.
[homage to my hips]

from The Oregonian: Poetry

By Brendan DeVoue

Dream

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Brendan DeVoue]

[by Theresa Mayo]
My Husband, Sweetheart, Best Friend, He's Amazing

from Portsmouth Herald News: Poem: My Husband, Sweetheart, Best Friend, He's Amazing

"Triumph"
By Alan Shapiro

from Slate: "Triumph"--By Alan Shapiro

Poetic Obituaries

Meykhana (rhymed poetry recited to a distinct rhythmic pattern) singer Agasalim Childag died at the age of 78 this morning.

from Azeri-Press Agency: Azerbaijani meykhana singer Agasalim Childag dies

Jennifer Clark described her brother [Joshua Clark] as spontaneous and often ready to leave for a family fishing trip to a nearby pond. She also called her brother a very musical person who enjoyed writing poems and song lyrics along with playing the tunes from the late Kurt Cobain, the lead singer of the band Nirvana.

"Music was his life," Jennifer Clark said. "If he had a guitar in his hand he was happy."

from The Dothan Eagle: Stabbing victim's relatives remember good times

[Ellen] Craswell also enjoyed visiting with friends, spending time with family and writing poetry, a hobby she learned as a young girl from her grandmother.

She also kept a close eye on the politics that once filled her life.

from Kitsap Sun: Longtime Legislator Ellen Craswell Dies at 75

[Betty G. "Liz" Evans] had a great appreciation for literature. She was an avid reader and could always be found with a book by Agatha Christie, Lillian Braun, Dick Francis or James Herriot. She enjoyed poetry, both reading and writing. She often created various crafts or decoupage projects associated with her poetry.

from The News-Herald: Betty G. "Liz" Evans

Hazel Haley, the Lakeland High School English teacher thought to have been the longest-serving teacher in the country, died at her home Monday, friends said. She was 91. Haley retired in May 2006 after a 69-year career as an English teacher, 67 of those at Lakeland High.

from The Ledger: Hazel Haley, Polk Teacher of 69 Years, Dies at 91

[Blair] Holt was shot to death last May on a CTA bus. He wrote poetry and rap music and even recorded some of his songs.

from abc7chicago.com: Shooting victim remembered

After earning a master's degree in English literature from Boston College, he [William J. Lynch Sr.] taught at Roman Catholic High School in Philadelphia and North Penn High School in Lansdale. He then taught at St. Joseph's College while earning a doctorate in English literature at the University of Pennsylvania.

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: William J. Lynch Sr.: English professor, 77

At Kent State University, where he taught English from 1954 to 1979, Dr. [Edgar] McCormick made many friends throughout the years.

"When I came here 35 years ago, I was delighted to find a poet so eloquent," said Harold Walker, a former pastor at the Kent Presbyterian Church, where McCormick and his wife Cora Lee attended before she died last year. "He could speak about sadness, and at the same time about brightness--he could remind us that life was not simple."

from Bedford Times Register: Dr. Edgar McCormick had passion for poetry

The VPR Poem of the Week is Rochelle Ratner's "Fish Tank," a prose poem which appeared in the Fall/Winter 2004-2005 issue (Volume VI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review.

Rochelle Ratner, who passed away March 31st at the age of 59, was the author of sixteen collections of poetry, including Practicing to Be a Woman: New and Selected Poems (Scarecrow Press, 1982), Someday Songs (BkMk Press, 1992), House and Home (Marsh Hawk Press, 2003), and Balancing Acts (Marsh Hawk Press, 2006), which was a finalist for the Milt Kessler Book Award.

from One Poet's Notes: Remembering Rochelle Ratner: "Fish Tank"

Reading the poem, I can picture the kind, smiling face of the child's mother, who must be rather plump.

Takumi Nishiyama, who wrote the poem, was murdered Tuesday at his home in Hachinohe, Aomori Prefecture. He was 9. His mother, 30, who admitted to strangling him with an electric cord, was arrested.

from The Asahi Shimbun: Why would a parent want to kill their child?

Well versed and talented in watercolor painting, photography, poetry and playwriting, Anna [V. Salerno] was published in the London Book of Anthology, published the book titled, "Love is in the Wind," wrote a book of poems titled "Me, Myself Alone," which was comprised of her poetry from 1955 to 2000, wrote the poem, "Shape of a Question," for which she received an award and wrote the poem for the 1974 Chittenango High School commencement. She received personal correspondence from the late Richard M. Nixon for her poem on his peacemaking journey to China and was active as a Girl Scout troop leader and literacy volunteer.

from The Oneida Daily Dispatch: Anna V. Salerno

[Anwar] Solangi also published a book under his name called 'Wateyoo Veh Gadroo' ('Dishes of Poison'), which includes his collection of articles which were published in various newspapers, his poetry and his essays based on his personal life.

An interesting, yet tragic point in his life came, when he was removed from his regular job as a staff artiste from Radio Pakistan, when Z.A Bhutto was hanged to death and at the same time, he played sad songs.

from The International News: 'Makhno' passes away

Sylvia [Thompson] quickly introduced me into new age therapies such as Reiki and ancient wisdom written by long hard to pronounce names. Soon after meeting we recorded our poetry together, did podcasts about poetry and life. She published a book, In The Garden of Illness, did a book signing at Barnes and Nobles. I enlisted an artist friend to write a book review which appeared in the El Paso Times. She taught a writing workshop for Tumblewords. I made a web site for her. Ironically, she said she had to be dying to feel this alive!

from Belinda Subraman: The Gift of Sylvia

4/01/2008

News at Eleven

Gillian Clarke, a familiar name to GCSE and A Level students and teachers alike, is Wales' third national poet.

Clarke succeeds Professor Gwyn Thomas in the role whose first incumbent was Gwyneth Lewis, the writer of the words on the Wales Millennium Centre.

from BBC News: Clarke named Wales national poet

B&W [The Blue and White]: Are you ever treated like a celebrity?

MS [Mark Strand]: Yes. Not here so much, but in Italy, and Spain. Other countries. Because they're smaller countries and here I've been around a long time so I'm sort of old hat, but there, in the last 10 years or so, so much of my stuff has been translated and published I'm sort of a new item. So I'm treated very much like a celebrity. Especially in Italy. They've even made a movie of me. It's an hour-long documentary. It's going to be done in May.

from The Bwog: The Writer of Words

No one can prove that [John] Ashbery's poems mean anything. But no one can prove that your life means anything, either: on a good day, you feel able to keep on living it, as John Ashbery has kept on writing, following a plan where a plan seems to fit, but otherwise making it up as you go.

from The Times Literary Supplement: John Ashbery, a poet for our times

My love for it has never been so directed. I can take nothing for granted. Creation astonishes me where it used to "just" delight me. In many ways this book is an attempt to describe to a future people what is was like to have water, to have seasons, to know what blossoming was and a daybreak where one did not fear the sun, or a heavy wind where one did not fear its' going "too far," beyond normal. What is normal, I have kept wondering. Where is the tipping point? [--Jorie Graham]

from phillyburbs.com: An interview with poet Jorie Graham

If you write ninety poems in the course of a few months, you probably mean something different by the word "poem" from what most people mean. O'Hara didn't introspect or recollect much. His poems lacked the formal appliqué of rhyme and meter, and, where most poets deposited words with an eyedropper, O'Hara sprayed them through a fire hose.

from The New Yorker: Fast Company

In 1926, in a letter to the editor of Poetry, Harriet Monroe, replying to her complaints about obscurity in his poem "At Melville's Tomb," [Hart] Crane set down his defense of his poetry and offered one of his most detailed and useful explanations of what his lines actually meant, while making it clear that their meaning, while concrete and direct, was a dull business indeed compared to what we might call their force. The first stanza reads:

Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge
The dice of drowned men's bones he saw bequeath
An embassy. Their numbers as he watched,
Beat on the dusty shore and were obscured.

"Take me for a hard-boiled unimaginative unpoetic reader, and tell me how dice can bequeath an embassy (or anything else)," Monroe wrote.

from The New York Review of Books: A Great American Visionary

Shi Tao's case will be one of several highlighted in Glasgow next week when the Scottish centre of PEN hosts a conference that will discuss the plight of writers who are languishing in prison cells all over the world. Delegates from four continents will be attending. The sessions will be private, apart from one public session that will be aimed at informing young people about the importance of freedom of expression and the threats to it worldwide.

from The Herald: If only all writers could speak out like MacDiarmid

"They say art transcends all borders," Ms. Son [Ho-yun] wrote when some of her poetry was translated into Korean in 2002. "But I was mired in despondency because the path I chose was blocked by a border.

"Almost every day, I have lived with doubt, wondering, should I continue?"

Once, a Korean editor who was invited to speak at one of her book parties humiliated Ms. Son by reproaching her for writing Japanese poetry.

from The New York Times: Japanese Poetry Persists in Korea, Despite Disapproval

Poetry, she [Patricia Smith] writes, became Nicole's "scream," a way to "build her mother again" with words. She challenges all poets, all people, to remember the Nicoles of this world, to remember that they are empty vessels "waiting to be filled."

from Star Tribune: Patricia Smith: A slam poet with punch
also Insight News: Powerhouse poet Patricia Smith's gift is genius

The only person to record his response to this was the book's unwilling dedicatee, Robert Frost, who wrote privately to Louis Untermeyer of his disgust and perplexity:

You won't take it as an infringement of the liberty of the press if I ask you not to connect me with the book any more than you have to in your reviewing and lecturing. Don't you find the contemplation of their kind of collusion emasculating? I am chilled to the marrow, as in the actual presence of some foul form of death where none of me can function, not even my habitual interest in versification.

from The Guardian: Lightning from skies

Through the narrative of his ailing dogs' last days, [Mark] Doty explores the different textures of hope and denial, despair and depression. "Despair is, in a way, an appropriate response to the world," he reflects. "Life without an element of despair would seem an empty enterprise, a shallow little song-and-dance on the surface of experience." Without it, he wonders, "might we just float away?"

from The Guardian: A man's best friends

Great Regulars

It happened at about about 8:50 in the morning, so powerful and frightening, that no one had ever witnessed anything like it before. Our houses were destroyed and most of our dear relatives died. Some were buried under their own roofs, while some were crushed by the crumbling mountains. We were waiting for death to come and catch us. We were certain we would not survive, the earthquake was so intense.

from Fatima Bhutto: CNN: TalkAsia: Waiting for Death
also Fatima Bhutto: CNN: TalkAsia: The Bhutto Assassination
also Fatima Bhutto: CNN: TalkAsia: To Keep Surviving

By the time we reach the final page, Mandeville's weariness and the weight of his experiences have transformed what began as a didactic assertion into an exhausted exhalation, almost a plea. Meaning and words are linked but not fused, as our poet [Matthew Francis] knows but his subject does not; poetry lives in the gaps between them, and truth does too, even if Mandeville himself doesn't realise it.

from Sarah Crown: The Guardian: The banana of God

Gathering titles for this story, though, I kept coming across interesting offerings from the smaller outfits (Minnesota's Milkweed Editions and Graywolf Press, university publishers and Missouri's own Unbridled Press, whose editorial offices are in Columbia), the kind of presses who get it all done with perhaps a dozen people instead of hundreds.

So here are some spring titles from independents and the New York giants. Unless indicated, titles are available now.

from John Mark Eberhart: The Kansas City Star: Smaller companies are flowering with new voices, new books

Poem in October
After Dylan Thomas
By Andrea Hollander Budy

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Andrea Hollander Budy

Whispered Into a Statue's Ear
By Sarah E. Colona

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Listen

Out like a lion
. . . in the wind

By Larry Schilb

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Out like a lion

An Etymology of Soft
By Timothy Allen Pettet

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Softly, softly . . .

A Sonnet for Simon
By Evan Fleischer

from John Mark Eberhart: Parachute: Unrhymin' Simon

[Patricia Lochridge Hartwell] saw the liberation of Dachau in 1945. It must have been soon after this that she was offered by the American forces one of the paintings they had found in various Nazi caches. She chose the Cranach and was able to take it home with her to the States.

When this story was published in 2006, it was guessed that the painting could have come from Hermann Goering's collection.

from James Fenton: The Guardian: Purloined pictures

Occasionally, a barrage of reviews of a new book just makes me weary--oh, you again, I think. Surely this is partly why writers like John Updike and Philip Roth or Joyce Carol Oates, who publish frequently on such a high level and get many reviews, land in bookstores with such comet tails of chattering class irritation. They deny us the opportunity to talk about something--or someone--new.

from John Freeman: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Has reading about books replaced the real thing?:

For example, the Pandus represent spiritual qualities, and the Kurus represent evil qualities.

Within each human being, the good and evil qualities battle for ascendance. The purpose of holy scripture is to offer the human being a method for learning to enhance the good and eliminate the bad, in order to regain the paradise of the soul.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Paramahansa Yogananda's Gita

The artist/poet must still acknowledge that his body or animal carries that burden that results from the soul's duty to itself. While the body becomes "tired with [ ] woe," the soul spurs it on, and the individual who is the result of this composite soul and body must balance the weight of each: the physical weight that weakens and ages and the spiritual weight (more accurately "presence") that does neither.

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Shakespeare Sonnet 50

About the poem, Wordsworth has explained: "The last stanza--'The Cocks did crow to-whoo, to-whoo, And the sun did shine so cold'--was the foundation of the whole. The words were reported to me by my dear friend, Thomas Poole; but I have since heard the same repeated of other Idiots. Let me add that this long poem was composed in the groves of Alfoxden, almost extempore; not a word, I believe, being corrected, though one stanza was omitted. I mention this in gratitude to those happy moments, for, in truth, I never wrote anything with so much glee."

from Linda Sue Grimes: Suite101.com: Wordsworth's 'The Idiot Boy'

The state media's portrayal of the recent events in Tibet, using deceit and distorted images, could sow the seeds of racial tension with unpredictable long-term consequences. This is of grave concern to me. Similarly, despite my repeated support for the Beijing Olympics, the Chinese authorities, with the intention of creating a rift between the Chinese people and myself, the Chinese authorities assert that I am trying to sabotage the games.

from Tenzin Gyatso: The Office of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama: An Appeal to the Chinese People

Death may be an inevitable passing of what we were while alive, but it doesn't mean that death can govern us when we are dead.

The universality of our physical existence is the emphasis when the poet says "Dead men naked they shall be one"--we are returned to our block humanity once we have eschewed our individuality through lack of a heartbeat.

from Frieda Hughes: The Times: Monday Poem: Peace everlasting

How small this poem is, for [Louise] Gluck never wastes the reader's time. In Proofs and Theories, her book of essays on poetry, she explains, "I do not think that more information always makes a richer poem. I am attracted to ellipsis, to the unsaid, to suggestion. . . ." The way mere ruins of the Coliseum evoke lost grandeur more than a newly articulated structure, or the way a few strokes from Picasso conjure a whole guitar, so Gluck's plain speech makes maximum impact in smallest space.

from Mary Karr: The Washington Post: Poet's Choice: Louise Gluck--Exacting Beauty

Poem: "Assignment #1: Write a poem about Baseball and God" by Philip E. Burnham, Jr. from Housekeeping: Poems Out of the Ordinary.

from Garrison Keillor: The Writer's Almanac: For the week of March 31st, 2008

From your school days you may remember A. E. Housman's poem that begins, "Loveliest of trees, the cherry now/ Is hung with bloom along the bough." Here's a look at a blossoming cherry, done 120 years later, on site among the famous cherry trees of Washington, by D.C. poet Judith Harris.

In Your Absence

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 157

[Robert Fagles] is one of very few translators to have taken on all three of the great classical epics--something that not even Pope attempted--and all three have sold millions of copies, both in print and in audio versions narrated by Derek Jacobi, Ian McKellen and Simon Callow.

Their success was due largely to Mr. Fagles's gifts as a writer.

from Charles McGrath: The New York Times: Robert Fagles, Translator of the Classics, Dies at 74

I believe that the philosopher's stone will be revealed to those who are sincere.

All the central government has to do is sit down with the Dalai Lama and talk to him; to show a little wisdom, and with vision and determination, the Lhasa incident can be resolved in an appropriate manner.

from Luisetta Mudie: Radio Free Asia: Bao Tong: Talk To The Dalai Lama

The poet [Mary Jo Bang] doubts the redemptive power of her own gift while simultaneously using it to find a tone that--in the final line--wavers perfectly between her contempt for consolation and her desire for it. The achievement of art shows the limitation of art, and vice versa. This is the great strength of "Elegy." No one will ever bring back the dead by writing poetry; indeed, the only certain result of writing a poem is the poem itself.

from David Orr: The New York Times: In Memoriam

The poet, who died in 1894, was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 1809, thus sharing a birth-year with Alfred Tennyson and Edgar Allen Poe. He was a descendant of Anne Bradstreet, the first published American woman poet, and Dorothy Q. was his great grandmother, Dorothy Quincy. He was one of the so-called "Fireside Poets", a group that included Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, John Greenleaf Whittier and James Russell Lowell (do those tripartite names indicate a shared tendency to serious ancestry?)

from Carol Rumens: The Guardian: theblogbooks: Poem of the week

[Professor K Swaminathan] loathed lapses from men's standards. He was impatient with any lack of perfection, whether the lack was in his own self or the world.

I am giving below some samples of his translations which speak for themselves with sublime beauty, passion and power:

from V Sundaram: News Today: An apostle of Tamil scientific writings-II

Still, there is nothing in these pages anywhere near as implausible as what occurs routinely in works of magical realism. What is hard to deal with--though necessary to depict--is the sheer gruesomeness of many episodes.

For Josip, poetry is tantamount to prayer and his practice of it a kind of sainthood--in Eliot's phrase, "A condition of complete simplicity/(Costing not less than everything)."

from Frank Wilson: Philadelphia Inquirer: One man's faith survives brutal trials

The opening poem in the book, "Transcendental Hunger" [by David Allen Sullivan] marks a theme throughout the collection. A line from the poem, "Signatures of the invisible," is a phrase that urges us to respond to those simple, forgettable beauties that we see each day and tend to them until we learn what’s happening and find the deeper lesson within life. Here is "Transcendental Hunger" in full:

from Good Times Weekly: Poetry Corner: Poetic Justice

Editor's note: This week's Poetry Corner features the work of Ric Masten. He has been called a stand-up poet, a serious humorist, an after-dinner philosopher and a motivational lyricist. He has made numerous presentations of his poetry and songs to groups including the White House Conference on Children, the NEA, the Rotary Club of Denver, and the Department of Justice Bureau of Prisons. He has been battling prostate cancer for nearly 10 years and recently brain tumors were discovered.

from Good Times Weekly: Poetry Corner: Poetry by Ric Masten

Subject to Limitation by Stephen Romer

from The Guardian: The Saturday poem: Subject to Limitation by Stephen Romer

by Monica Youn
Ignatz Oasis

from Guernica: Poetry: Three Poems

The Diener
by Martha Serpas

from The New Yorker: Poetry: The Diener

Integer
by Rae Armantrout

from The New Yorker: Poetry: Integer

By John P. Baxter

True Friends

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by John P. Baxter]

By Amy Eichling
Ode to Sunny Saturdays

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Your Poem: [by Amy Eichling]

[by Janice B. Mulcahey]
Clear

from Portsmouth Herald News: Poem: Clear

In Slate, Sea and Sky (Luath, £15), Norman Bissell takes us on a meditative journey from Glasgow to the Isle of Luing. The evocative sense of place in his poems is beautifully complemented by stunning photographs by Oscar Marzaroli.

Sounds

from The Scotsman: Poem of the Week: Norman Bissell

"Oh Blessed Season"
By Chris Forhan

from Slate: "Oh Blessed Season" --By Chris Forhan

by Boris Karloff
Mastermind

from Zeek: Yiddish Poems by Boris Karloff

Poetic Obituaries

[Hugo Claus] aimed to shock, writing explicitly about incest, homosexuality and masturbation, and featuring nudity on stage. On one occasion a Belgian law court found one of his theatrical productions injurious to public morals and sentenced him to four months in prison.

from Telegraph: Hugo Claus

[Paul Allen "Al"] was a published poet and columnist, his poetry most recently published in The Comstock Review. His column "The Old Curmudgeon" was read in The Courier and Hurricane Breeze newspapers.

He also was the main writer, editor and publisher of "Gnomenclature," a privately published magazine that reflected his eclectic style and views of life, all written with his piercing and pointed wit.

from The Ypsilanti Courier: Former columnist for Courier dies at 58

Former New Zealand Poetry Society president Nelson Wattie said on [Ruth] Dallas' appointment as a society patron in 2000, that she was "one of the finest poets in this country" but one "whose modesty and concentration on her immediate locality sometimes leads to her being overlooked".

from TV3: Southern poet Ruth Dallas one of New Zealand's most prolific regional writers

For a time, he [Jules Dassin] wrote plays and poems, finally landing a low-budget project based on an August le Breton thriller. "Rififi" was a sensation in Europe and was popular in the U.S., where it was released by the United Motion Picture Organization in 1956. The film's 35-minute wordless robbery sequence became a classic.

from Variety: Director Jules Dassin dies at 96

C.K. Williams, lecturer with the rank of professor in creative writing and the Lewis Center for the Arts, added, "Robert Fagles was the most widely read and widely celebrated poet translator of his time, indeed of any time. He was also the kindest, most generous, most loving person I've ever met, and I don't believe these facts are unrelated. His work is radiant with a love of poetry, of language, of people, of the entire human experience. There was no one like him."

from News at Princeton: Robert Fagles, celebrated translator of ancient epics, dies at age 74

Bert [Hogman] was happiest when he was surrounded by family and friends and enjoyed telling stories and reciting poetry. He entertained many around a campfire with The Cremation of Sam McGee or The Shooting of Dan McGrew.

from Williams Lake Tribune: Bert Hogman remembered by loving family

Kadammanitta shot into prominence with his style of reciting his own poems in a powerful manner, endearing himself to many progressives.

His childhood experiences, especially the Patayani songs, influenced his literary works strongly. With his thought provoking poems, he became one of the voices of rebellion in modern Malayalam literature.

from Thaindian News: Malayalam poet Kadammanitta passes away

For many years--decades--she [Maureen Kenny] was an essential part of Kenny's Bookshop, sitting behind her desk and dealing with the customers, always eager to talk about books with anyone who came by.

I remember going into Kenny's to buy John O'Donoghue's first collection of poems Echoes Of Memory in 1994. I went to the counter and as soon as Mrs Kenny saw it she exclaimed "A treat in store! A treat in store!"

from Galway Advertiser: Maureen Kenny--the doyenne of Galway booksellers passes away

[Sophie Lancaster] was aiming to achieve an English degree and fulfil her dreams of working with children or a career in journalism.

"Sophie wrote poems from being very young. She used to write books and would also spend hours on her computer writing," Ms Lancaster said.

from Manchester Evening News: Sophie--always individual

Mr. [John A.] Moberly grew roses, was a Philadelphia sports fan, and wrote short stories and poems. He also acted in community theater.

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: John Albert Moberly: Chemical engineer, 89

"In happier times he [Stephen Pinker] wrote this poem for me and it sums up how we felt about each other: I dreamt of being happy, content and never blue. And now my dreams are real and it's all because of you.'

from Oxford Mail: Fiancee's tribute to stabbing victim

Throughout his career, [Hal] Riney maintained a prickly, curmudgeonly presence that to some seemed at odds with his celebrations of American openness and innocence. But in his private life, he was a doting father who wrote and illustrated hundreds of unabashedly sentimental letters to his children. One of these included a poem explaining that the Easter Bunny was actually a lawyer for a special interest group who, once a year, assuaged his guilt by distributing candy.

from Adweek: Ad Legend Hal Riney Dies at 75

Besides writing plays and assisting her husband, she [Joy H. Rose] published four books of poetry; cofounded Temenos, a Media theater company; ran unsuccessfully for Media Borough Council; and led the opposition to a local mercantile tax.

She frequently contributed to newspaper letters-to-the-editor columns and marched in protests against wars from Vietnam to Iraq, her daughter Linda Hallowell said.

from The Philadelphia Inquirer: Joy Hurshman Rose: Playwright, 80

[John] Slatin worked with the University in some capacity for nearly 30 years. He started his career in 1979 as a poetry professor.

He was the founder and director of the Accessibility Institute at UT, which helped the University make 45 percent of its top 407 Web pages disability friendly, according to the institute's Web site. After he was diagnosed with the hereditary condition retinitis pigmentosa, he became fully blind by the late 1970s.

from The Daily Texan: Slatin made Web pages accessible

Students have posted poems and pictures of Keith [Traudt] on their lockers at Heartland High.

Teachers say he was a fun student and enjoyed writing cowboy poetry.

from KHAS-TV: Community mourns loss of Henderson teen

Despite numerous awards and honorary degrees including a Guggenheim, numerous National Endowment Fellowships, and a Longview Foundation Grant, [Jonathan] Williams was never sufficiently acknowledged for his achievements as a poet or prose stylist by the writing establishment, nor for his press's generosity toward artists from all walks of life.

from Smoky Mountain News: Jonathan Williams: 1929-2008

[Joan V. Wyrauch-Kelly] was a strong-willed and spiritual woman who was kind and loving and enjoyed dancing, singing, old music, telling stories of her youth, cooking and baking and arts and crafts. She also was a good adviser, a prankster, wrote poetry and collected angels, lighthouses and anything Irish.

from Bucks County Courier Times: Joan V. Wyrauch-Kelly, was one of 21 children

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