Poetry in Yemen

Because more people visit the abode in late December and early January, one tends to tidy up. Tidying up has resulted in more clear space on the top of the mission-style desk that hosts the laptop--and that now has room for . . . a globe. Since childhood, I've been enchanted by globes, and perhaps you have, too.

A recent spin of the globe reminded me that Yemen lies south of Saudi Arabia, possesses a long coast on the Gulf of Aden, and is east of Ethiopia and north of Somalia. It is also a land of poets, as described by (among others) Steven C. Caton, who writes of poetry as a cultural [meaning everyday?] practice in a Yemeni tribe:


Book on Yemeni Poetry

Greetings to Yemeni poets.

Before Katrina

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Before Katrina

What size, what color, how many?
said the New Orleans T-shirt merchant.

Say, buddy, jus' a minute, jus'
a minute, said the inebriated man
on Canal Street, his life misplaced
behind his eyes somewhere. Talk to you
for a minute? he said.

Now I'm back behind gauze
of hotel drapery looking
at charcoal silhouettes of
financial towers. I gave
the boozy man some money,
and to the street-vendor,
I said big, blue, and one.


Copyright 2009 Hans Ostrom

Food Poetry

Here is a link to a site featuring poems about food, including "To A Goose," by Robert Southey. The goose, deducing that it was being viewed as food, probably had mixed feelings about the "tribute." Southey's not much read now, even though he was Poet Laureate of England. He is among the British Romantic generation, of course, that includes Byron and Wordsworth. Southey's best known now as the creator of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears," which is also partly about food.

Food Poems

Poet Laureate of Alabama

Sue Walker is the Poet Laureate of Alabama, serving her second term. She's a fine poet, and she's an editor and the publisher at Negative Capability Press in Mobile, Alabama:

NC Press

In the interests of full disclosure, I should add that Sue published an essay I wrote about Karl Shapiro--in a special collection of essays about him. John Updike contributed to the volume, among many others.

Orson Welles' Favorite Poet?

According to this source, at least, Robert Graves was Orson Welles' favorite poet.

New Chilean Poets

When North Americans and Europeans think of Chilean poets, they probably still think largely of Pablo Neruda and/or Gabriela Mistral. (Interestingly, both "Pablo Neruda" and "Gabriela Mistral" were pseudonyms.) Here is a link to a collection of four more recent Chilean poets; the collection was published at Arizona State University Press:

Chilean poets

Chocolate, O Chocolate

Today I saw someone who seemed deeply satisfied with a piece of chocolate, so I thought it might be time to post the poem, "Chocolate," again--first posted a year ago.

Chocolate

1

After the moon has set but before sunrise,
sweet breezes issue from dark brown corridors
of a warm, fronded forest. This is the hour of
chocolate, when the mind is weary of merely
thinking and wants to dance with ancient
instincts, to self-induce a swoon by
indulging in lore from forbidden precincts.

2

Inside cacao beans lies a secret
that survives translations of growth
and harvest, roast and grind, concoction
and confectionery concatenation. After
tasting chocolate, tongues transmit
the news by nerve-line, enzyme,
and bloodstream to mahogany-lined private
clubs in the brain. There receptors
luxuriate on divans and thrill
at the arrival of tropical gossip.
After the messages from chocolate
arrive, brown damask draperies vibrate,
and pleased devotees purr pleasurably.

3

My darling, I wouldn't choose
between chocolates and flowers,
so I brought both. Let me put
the latter in a vase as you open
and taste the former. Yes, I agree:
chocolate is film noir watched
by taste buds in the mouth's
art-house theater. Barbarously

suave, chocolate is an unabashedly
debauched foodstuff--cad and coquette
of cacao. Darling, you're making
those noises you make when you eat
chocolate--the secret language of
satisfaction, the patter of pleasure,
your mumbled homage to this,
the moment of chocolate.


Copyright 2008 Hans Ostrom

Canadian Federation of Poets

Here is a link to the site of the Canadian Federation of Poets:

Canadian Poets

Looking For A Good Cafe In Tacoma?

If you live in, are passing through, or plan to visit Tacoma, and if you're looking for good independent cafes, then look no further than a recent post by A Scribble or a Sonnet:

Coffee In Tacoma

Translation of a Poem by Erik Gustaf Geijer

Erik Gustaf Geijer (1783-1847) was a Swedish writer, historian, and professor. He grew up in Varmland and attended Uppsala University. Here is a link to more information about him:

Geijer

A while ago I took a shot at translating one of his lyric poems.

Salongen och Skogen

By Erik Gustaf Geijer

Stojande verld, du mig plågar!
Hvar fines stillhet? Dit vill jag vandra.
På allt havad hjertat frågar
Ej får du svar af dig sjelf, ej af andra.

Hellre I skogen jag vankar.
Aftonens flägt genom kronorna susar
Men mina stilla tankar
Hör jag ändå, fastän skogen brusar.



Polite Society Versus The Woods

(translated by Hans Ostrom)

Noisy world, you plague me!
Where is there stillness? I’ll go there.
An old heart must not ask
Hard questions of itself or of another.

I’d much rather wander in woods
Than watch days get devoured by official fervor.
My languorous thoughts long
For a forest, listen for its steady murmur.


(translation Copyright 2009 Hans Ostrom)

Napoleon Read Poetry

If a busy general and dictator like Napoleon could find time to read poetry, surely we can, too. True, most of the information concerning the Napmeister's reading focuses on his time in exile, sans army. Maybe when he was posing for some of those portraits, he was reaching for a wee chapbook of poems stuck in his jacket. Anyway, here is a link to more information about what he was looking for in the way of poetry:

Napoleon

Learning Curve Records

A link to Learning Curve Records, Minneapolis:

LCR

Now I have to find out exactly what kind of music "post-Punk" is. I'm pretty sure it involves electric guitars, but that's about as far as I've gotten.

Rip Rap and Cold Mountain

It is one of those relatively rare days in the Puget Sound region when the sunlight is extremely bright and temperature almost extremely low. We started at 21 degrees this morning, but if you're sitting inside looking out, you might be tricked into thinking the view is from late Spring.

In honor of the crisp imagery and low temperatures, as well as the Pacific Northwest, I'll mention one of my favorite books by Gary Snyder: Rip Rap and Cold Mountain Poems. Snyder is a native of the Pacific Northwest, of course, and attended Reed College, as well as serving as a fire-lookout in the Cascades. The Cold Mountain Poems are translations of work by the Chinese poet Han Shan. Snyder studied Asian Languages and Literature at U.C. Berkeley.

A link to the book:

Rip Rap