…this morning I’m thinking that I miss my writing groups, so I began to think that there might be a need for some sort of online writing group that provides critique and vital feedback for poets. Is anyone interested? I have no details yet, but would be willing to play along. Well, I have one thought, WordPress, I believe, has a blog that can only be accessed by those on the list, although I’m not sure exactly how private it is. That might something to look at.
Update: I did a little checking and yes, this is what WordPress says: “your blog can be totally private, where it can only be seen by other WordPress.com users that you specifically enable to have access to your blog”.
…afternoon I was able to watch one of my favorite classics: Breakfast at Tiffany’s. This was rather timely, given Ken’s blog post awhile ago which caused me to take out an old copy of the novel and place it on my reading list. Yesterday afternoon, with the movie fresh in my mind, and the commentators statements about Capote’s reeling over casting and ending alterations, I re-read the novel (it doesn’t take long). I still like them both–the novel still surprises me, as it is a good read ( I don’t know if it’s familiarity of pulling on Capote’s language like an old quilt, or the shortness/quickness of the novel, but it works).
I think the ending of the movie suits the banal romantic endings that Hollywood believes the audience wants to see, but I think that by casting Audrey Hepburn they removed the blatant sexual nature to Holly, and portrayed her as objectified girl/woman in need of care. In the movie, the men are in love with her more than they want to have sex with her; however, the part of the movie that didn’t sit well with me (and Capote doesn’t write this dialogue in the novel) is when Paul/Fred states to Holly that he “owns her” because he loves her—well, how absurd.
… is something I always think about–even sometimes to the point of dreaming about it. Last night was such a night. I dreamed about images within a poem and about writing my way through the images. I’ve been reading about expressionist poetry, what makes it, who made/makes it, and how it is made.
An example from the early poetry of Bertolt Brecht:
I, Bertolt Brecht…make friends with peo-
ple. And I wear
A derby on my head as others do.
I say: they’re strangely stinking animals.
And I say: no matter, I am, too.
Selden Rodman states: “For his style, Brecht drew upon the richly formalized folk balladry of Germany, upon the understatement of Chinese lyricism, upon the Bible and Protestant liturgical writings, above all on the undecorated directness of Greek drama”.
Brecht searched beyond his world to find his world.
The search for faith appears as something integral to expressionist poetry. Is artistic passion a reflection of our faith, whether we see it or not, or merely a reaction against the faith of others?
(Stay tuned for the next installment of “Poets in Space” )
…to do something about this unorganized mess of books. I have them stacked on each shelf, in no general order (I often push madly through trying to find something and end up creating more chaos). New bookshelves must be a thought. I would love to have a library room, but don’t really have the space. As I was unusually busy in the fall, I never had to time to do anything with the 50 or so books that I bought/received over the past 6 months. These pictures are not an accurate depiction either of the amount of books, as there are still about 100 more floating about the house, and there are two full boxes of paperbacks and old literary magazines that I’ve been trying to sell in garage sales (I did manage to sell some a few years ago). I’ve been avoiding this job for too long and must get at it.
Most of the poetry books are on the bottom 2 shelves, with the exception of the 2 dozen that I have scattered throughout the house.
(Most of the books behind the books on these two shelves are textbooks of some sort or other–some are collectibles, but they aren’t in the shot (the shelves in this shot continue for another foot or so on either side)). As you can see, I have my work cut out.
…alright, here’s one more for you to chew on:
A Found Spamtoum
Her unusual artistic quilts. Website in human
rights north. Search updates read
readers more recent client. Encoded.
Backend this, nonprofit that. Listing past
rights north. Search updates, read.
Click here: crisp, clear, easy,
backend this, nonprofit that. Listing past
upon first glance. Launch large with need?
Click here crisp, clear easy.
Text matter rather complex over world they also got.
Upon first glance launch large with need.
Subsequent state of the roads might be several days.
Text matter rather complex over world they also got
coming to possible scandal. They clung to it.
Subsequent state of the roads might be several days
obliged to remain hard for considerable periods.
Coming to possible scandal, they clung to it—
readers more recent client, encoded.
Obliged to remain hard for considerable periods,
her unusual artistic quilts website, in-human.
…this time I decided a sonnet was in order. As with the other one, I’ll be randomly editing this one, and as always comments or suggestions are welcome, and in fact, encouraged.
Author’s Generally Found Sonnet
Art for example, Kincaid’s painting, dawns.
Increase market conditions stipulate
what was last modified: January.
All text forgot like alternate endings!
Face explains. Text available, terms rights
details. Follow directions— note intent
membership once a month. Signature I
pod. Applicable: lack of newspapers.
Decorum broke. Already, uploaded—
able humbled beginners, complete, guide
everything could was last modified in
January: all text. Removal all
feeds, sites, maps, topics, player and Cohen.
No sharing individual colleagues.
…of you already know, after 6 1/2 years, I’ve finished my honours BA in English, and while I contemplate applying for an MA with a creative writing option (something that must get done shortly), I’m also furiously (if that’s possible) working on 2 manuscripts. My posting will be more sporatic than ever, and in the months of February and April, probably non-existent as I write and research my work.
For those who want to hear some poetry being read, you can listen along to Zach Wells and myself at 39 Dover St. The time is a 7 hour difference if you have a short wave radio. I do, but don’t know where it is. This link will allow you to hear it regardless.
…Indeed. A line from John Ashbery’s “Pyrography”.
I’ve added some new writing links. I’m really fascinated with the Poetry Foundation.
For anyone following this blog regularly, I’m continually editing the “found poem” in the New Year’s post. Comments are always welcome.
For those still curious about the present by the rockstar–follow this link . My sack is already starting to get nice and soft! (I thought I’d never say that in my life!)
Here’s a found poem (the influx of spam in my mail box lately inspired me) I wrote for the occasion:
Body Click Here To Found Poem
Where lived, said she, does live here:
wife entered control.
External links contain errors.
Sacromento James takes classes.
Beverly Hills script hand directed
spotted, Central America, Asia, Africa.
Alone despite birth—snake.
Infancy now killed me.
Undressing pantyfree. Booed.
Beverly Hills script hand directed
Owner’s details imagine
fat disheveled? Game that beau.
Unless otherwise noted
usually try give visual content.
Las Vegas pure page pages.
Credit featured site unless otherwise noted.
External links contain errors if known.
No control, external links
contain errors. But stop.
Traveling Brad Pitt spotted.
Caught, video visage
inspired mass booing crowd.
Vogue sorry partying without sluts.
Terms all people smart.
Fabulous– we ate clam credit.
Featured site unless otherwise noted.
Playboy being shunned. Circles sun.
Say upset, become close.