Flirting With Permanence

The blogger http://daisylacy.blogspot.com/ invited a poem concerning the topic of her blog: flirting. So I flirted with the idea and came up with a poem, and you should, too, of course.

Flirting With Permanence

You may consider flirting to be like the whisper
of butterfly wings in a flower’s ear or the light
touch of infinite possibility when skin brushes
skin. I’ve been sent to remind you, when the

time comes, to flirt with your long-space
companion, your spouse, the main squizzle,
that one to whom you plighted all the troth
you could muster, lo these many groovitudinous

moons ago. After many a season,
the faithful swan still flirts. Sure, anybody
can play at romance with strangers and
newly-mets in an amateur’s hour

of quips and blinking, glances
and sinking sight-lines. More’s required
of those who would flirt with them whom
they know, with those what’s seen practically

every flirtational tactic--all the plays and their
variations under the bodacious sun. Yes:
how to make eyes and otherwise surprise
a long-loved lover? That’s the question,

and if you’re a crafty pro-amateur, you
know the answer and flirt all right already
with the belle or beau you first flirted with
longtemps ageau. To tease pleasingly

a person you permanently love summons
a certain sagacious whimsy from you—
when the time comes, as I say,
and after it's stayed.


Copyright Hans Ostrom 2009

Five Fine Functions

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Five Fine Functions

Photosynthesis.
Genetic coding.
Fidelity.
Generosity.
Mutual attraction.

Reflections From Mississippi

Patricia Neely-Dorsey writes from Mississippi to inform us that her book of poems, Reflections of Mississippi Magnolia-A Life in Poems, has been published. It is available from . . .


www.reeds.ms/books.asp

And the native of Tupelo also maintains the blog . . .



http://www.patricianeelydorsey.blogspot.com/

Poetry, Technology, and Florida's Poet Laureate

The position of Poet Laureate in Florida comes with bad news and good news. The bad news is that it is an unpaid position. The good news is that there is no limit to the term.

Dr. Edmund Skellings is the Poet Laureate of Florida, and his biography is rare. Teaching at different Florida universities, he has offered such traditional courses as those in Shakespeare and Understanding Poetry, but at the same time, he was genuinely a pioneer in technology and the arts & humanities. For some details,including titles of Skellings' works, please see the . . .

Skellings Link

"Poetry Man," by Phoebe Snow

A link to a Youtube video of Phoebe Snow performing "Poetry Man":


poetry man

Essay on Pakastani Literature

Here is a link to an interesting essay Jahane Rumi on contemporary Pakastani literature:

http://www.razarumi.com/2009/03/26/contemporary-pakistani-literature-in-the-%E2%80%98age-of-terror%E2%80%99/

Jamaican Writer Geoffrey Philp Wins Award

Fellow blogger Poéfrika has posted news about a prize going to Jamaican writer Geoffrey Philp:

http://poefrika.blogspot.com/2009/11/geoffrey-philp-wins-daily-news-prize.html

Poet Laureate of North Dakota

Larry Woiwode is the poet laureate of North Dakota. He is also a novelist. Here is a link to more information:

http://www.loc.gov/rr/main/poets/northdakota.html

Accra, Ghana; and Belo Horizonte, Brazil

According to data accompanying the "Vistors' Map" of the blog, computers in Accra, Ghana, and Belo Horizonte, Brazil, have passed by Poet's Musings.

Accra is on the coast of Ghana. Here is one photo from there--of Kwame Nkrumah Park:












And here is a photo of a place in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, which is situated in eastern Brazil and the metropolitan area of which includes approximately 6 million people:

Winter's Mixed Results

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Winter's Mixed Results


Snow to rain and back to snow
again. Then comes just cold,
which freezes slush and snow
and mud. At last we're slowed
down and up, our feet and wheels
and winged chariots set back
to sluggish paces, in some cases
even stopped by frozen slop
of slush and snow and mud.

This weather lurks beneath
the mean temperature. We're
put in a mercury-mood--heavy,
gray, not quite solid, depressed
by cold. After thaw, abrasive
rains scour streets. Hard wind
mutters under eaves, in
gaps between urban structures.
We escape again into feverish
bustling and maniacal toil, into
a flow of routine we hold, dear.


Copyright 2009 Hans Ostrom

On "Howl"

I still teach Allen Ginsberg's "Howl" (as opposed to someone else's "Howl?) in most poetry-writing and modern/contemporary American poetry courses I offer. It's a great example of a protest poem, and of "prophetic" poetic rhetoric going at least as far back as the Hebrew Bible. At the same time, it is squarely (not in the Beat sense of the term) in the tradition of Whitman and Jeffers, in the context of American poetry.

Not without its problems? Of course. As bad as Ginsberg and compatriots may have had it in the 1950s, others had it worse, so occasionally students, with good reason, ask, "Was it really all that bad?" Also, it is a dense poem. It asks patience. But that can be a good time.

I also like to teach the poem as one that gives the effect of a spontaneous "rant" but that is actually carefully crafted. And of course it is a crucial poem in the context of gay and lesbian literature.

I would cease teaching it if students seemed disengaged from it, but they still seem to find a purchase or two in the poem. They like to discuss it, critique it, and learn from it, at least on my campus.

In any event, here is a link to an interesting spectrum of views, from poets and others, on "Howl"

http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/g_l/ginsberg/howl.htm

New Scottish Poetry

A link to several links concerning New Scottish poetry, as commissioned by the British Council:

http://www.britishcouncil.org/scotland-arts-and-culture-poets.htm

November Poems by Hood and Plath

Here is a poem by 19th century British poet Thomas Hood about November and called "November." I found it in November--on a site called, not November, but scrapbook.com, of all places. In this poem, Hood seems to play Dr. No.


November

by Thomas Hood

No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon!
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--

No road--no street--
No "t'other side the way"--
No end to any Row--
No indications where the Crescents go--

No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
No courtesies for showing 'em--
No knowing 'em!

No mail--no post--
No news from any foreign coast--
No park--no ring--no afternoon gentility--
No company--no nobility--

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member--
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!

I feel as though I should go watch an episode of "Yes, Minister," now.

Then I found an odd video "of" Sylvia Plath reading "November Graveyard"; the video actually does that strange and clumsy thing of taking a still photo and making the mouth seem to move. A bit gauche and unsettling. The poem interests me in a way that most of Plath's poems interest me: for its use of sound. With reason, many readers focus on the less than cheerful subjects and outlooks in her poems, but I've always thought her to be masterful with sound, too. The link to the . . .

Video