Sunday, March 28, 2010
Louisiana's Poet Laureate
Louisiana's current Poet Laureate is Darrell Bourque. His books include Plainsongs, The Blue Boat, Burnt Water Suite (nice title), and Call and Response.
Friday, March 26, 2010
West Virginia's Poet Laureate
West Virginia's Poet Laureate is Irene McKinney.
Her books include Unthinkable: Selected Poems 1976-2004 and Six O'Clock Mine Report. She also edited a collection of West Virginian writing, Back Country.
Her books include Unthinkable: Selected Poems 1976-2004 and Six O'Clock Mine Report. She also edited a collection of West Virginian writing, Back Country.
Colorado's Poet Laureate
Mary Crow is Colorado's Poet Laureate, and here is a link to her site.
And here is a link to one of her books:
I Have Tasted the Apple (American Poets Continuum)
And here is a link to one of her books:
I Have Tasted the Apple (American Poets Continuum)
Good Weather Inside
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Good Weather Inside
I'm fond of interior fogs, thick mists
in which to disappear when the world
gets especially giddy, unambiguous,
and annoying. Invisible geese mutter
to themselves. A creek is to be heard
but not seen. The sun ceases to be
a celebrity. As Auden wrote, "Thank
you, fog." At other times, the good
weather inside invites. When muck
and slush of human interaction dispirits,
a walk in the mind's bright meadow beckons.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
Thank You, Fog: Last Poems.
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Good Weather Inside
I'm fond of interior fogs, thick mists
in which to disappear when the world
gets especially giddy, unambiguous,
and annoying. Invisible geese mutter
to themselves. A creek is to be heard
but not seen. The sun ceases to be
a celebrity. As Auden wrote, "Thank
you, fog." At other times, the good
weather inside invites. When muck
and slush of human interaction dispirits,
a walk in the mind's bright meadow beckons.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
Thank You, Fog: Last Poems.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Venues
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Venues
My residences are three--
the present, past, and me.
The past is vast, illusory.
Present's cramped, a tiny pill,
so its contents spill
into past. Still
there's Me, which is a what
that's a where and a who,
not so different from a You.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
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Venues
My residences are three--
the present, past, and me.
The past is vast, illusory.
Present's cramped, a tiny pill,
so its contents spill
into past. Still
there's Me, which is a what
that's a where and a who,
not so different from a You.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
Hey, Baby
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Hiram and His Hey-Baby Poem
"Hey, Baby, here's another Hey-Baby poem,
full of neon bats and radioactive butterflies,
false promises and outlandish proposals,
a Magical Realist's dream-yacht,
Dylan Thomas's unpaid bar bill, too
much cheese and not enough wine. In this
Hey-Baby poem, you get compared.
Yeah, Baby, you get compared to such
extravagant particulars that the poem
claims you'll sweat liquid marble and gargle
with nectar. Undeterred by the overpopulation
of Hey-Baby poems, this one wants to be known
as an elder adolescent and a crusty old
lust-addict both at once. Asleep on a stained
couch, this poem dreams it's Casanova on a Harley,
Byron on a skateboard, Christina Rossetti's
market-analyst, and an Arabian nighthawk riding
a golden pogo-stick. Hey, Baby, my heart's not in
this Hey-Baby poem. It's because I always thought
the genre was horse-shit and the women who fell
for it more to be pitied than played. Hey, Baby,
as you well know, you can do better than this
Hey-Baby poem or any other, so take this anti-
Hey-Baby poem, use it as a coupon, and redeem
it for the platinum version of your crap-detector,
just in case something or someone subtle
slides your way with a Hey-Baby poem in disguise."
Thus spake Hiram to his laptop in a glad cafe.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
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Hiram and His Hey-Baby Poem
"Hey, Baby, here's another Hey-Baby poem,
full of neon bats and radioactive butterflies,
false promises and outlandish proposals,
a Magical Realist's dream-yacht,
Dylan Thomas's unpaid bar bill, too
much cheese and not enough wine. In this
Hey-Baby poem, you get compared.
Yeah, Baby, you get compared to such
extravagant particulars that the poem
claims you'll sweat liquid marble and gargle
with nectar. Undeterred by the overpopulation
of Hey-Baby poems, this one wants to be known
as an elder adolescent and a crusty old
lust-addict both at once. Asleep on a stained
couch, this poem dreams it's Casanova on a Harley,
Byron on a skateboard, Christina Rossetti's
market-analyst, and an Arabian nighthawk riding
a golden pogo-stick. Hey, Baby, my heart's not in
this Hey-Baby poem. It's because I always thought
the genre was horse-shit and the women who fell
for it more to be pitied than played. Hey, Baby,
as you well know, you can do better than this
Hey-Baby poem or any other, so take this anti-
Hey-Baby poem, use it as a coupon, and redeem
it for the platinum version of your crap-detector,
just in case something or someone subtle
slides your way with a Hey-Baby poem in disguise."
Thus spake Hiram to his laptop in a glad cafe.
Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom
Bergman, The Knight, and Death
Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal (1957) is one of my favorite films--partly, I think, because of the imagery, but also because Bergman handles the grim allegory in an amusing way. I do acknowledge the film isn't for everyone, however. Here's a link to the scene in which Death first introduces himself, formally, to the Knight (in Swedish, no subtitles).
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Moyers' Favorite Poem Project
The site of the television program, Bill Moyers Journal, has a favorite-poem project going. Lots of interesting choices.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Timeline of Insurance
Only 610 years, approximately, after the concept of insurance arose (at least in a European context), the U.S. Congress seems poised--if that's the word--to get more people health insurance, or at least that's the claim, as it were. Here is a link to a time-line of insurance. Exciting reading.
South Dakota's Poet Laureate
As noted earlier, Larry Woiwode is North Dakota's Poet Laureate. Who is South Dakota's? I'm glad you asked. David Allen Evans, whose books include Bull Rider's Advice: New And Selected Poems (2003).
Anne Spencer
Here is a link to a page about a not-so-well known Harlem Renaissance poet, Anne Spencer.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
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