A Writer of Parables

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A Writer of Parables


Once there was a writer of parables
who aimed to treat his readers'
maladies with narrative caplets
of wisdom. Almost no one read
his parables, for almost no one
read, and those who did read
had many reading choices. The few
who read his parables didn't know
the parables were meant instructively
to heal. They liked the parables,
however, because they were short
and crisp like chopped stalks
of celery. There was the parable
of the blind fashion-photographer;
of the return of the responsible
daughter; of the man who would play
only a rented harp; and so on.
Finally the writer of parables wrote
himself into a parable. He dissolved
into a little bit of his own home-made
wisdom and entered the bloodstream
of culture, completely absorbed.


Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom

New Book By Robert Sheppard

Here is a link to a new book by British poet Robert Sheppard, Warrant Error.

New Book By Stephen Bess

Here's a link to a new book by Stephen Bess, Liquid Lunch: Blues-Inspired Poems; Bess lives in Washington D.C.

Barker's Sonnet to His Mother

When I began to study poetry as an undergraduate, one of the first poems I encountered was George Barker's sonnet, "To My Mother."  Here 'tis:


To My Mother

by George Barker

Most near, most dear, most loved, and most far,
Under the huge window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter,
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand,
Irresistible as Rabelais but most tender for
The lame dogs and hurt birds that surround her,—
She is a procession no one can follow after
But be like a little dog following a brass band.

She will not glance up at the bomber or condescend
To drop her gin and scuttle to a cellar,
But lean on the mahogany table like a mountain
Whom only faith can move, and so I send
O all her faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning.

Among My Favorites: Philip Larkin

British poet and librarian Philip Larkin's work is among my favorite.  He possessed a distinctive lyric gift, a sometimes droll, sometimes bleak view of modern life, the city, urban isolation, and a considerable sense of humor.  Probably his most famous poem is "This Be The Verse," which can probably be found online (I haven't looked).  As with Dickinson, it's difficult to pick favorites, but "High Windows" and "Home Is So Sad" certainly stand out.  The best thing to do is to rummage through is collected poems, though.  A link to that book:


Collected Poems, by Philip Larkin

And a link to the Philip Larkin Society::

http://www.philiplarkin.com/

Among My Favorites: Alan Dugan

Alan Dugan (1923-2003) remains one of my favorite poets.  His work earned him a Yale Younger Poet award and a Pulitzer Prize.  His poems tend to be quick and terse--bursts of direct first-person utterance; they're very smart but also accessible.  One of my favorites by him is "Love Song: I and Thou," which in part concerns trying to build a new house.  There is also a poem about an new bridge that is actually an old bridge.

Dugan titled his books simply Poems, Poems 2, Poems 3, and so on--up to 7, which is a collected poems edition.

A link to more information about Dugan.

Among My Favorites: James Cervantes

. . . And in another National Poetry Month episode of "Among My Favorites," I'll note  that James Cervantes, professor and poet, is among my favorites.  Here is a link to his site, which includes some terrific poems:

James Cervantes

And here is a link to a book:

Temporary Meaning: Poems, by James Cerantes

Among My Favorites: Jim Daniels

Among my favorite poets is Jim Daniels, an especially gifted narrative poet, and one whose work often focuses on the lives of working-class people and folks on the street.  He teaches at Carnegie Mellon University. His books include the following (and one may find a handful of poems online):

Revolt of the Crash-Test Dummies: Poems

In Line for the Exterminator: Poems (Great Lakes Books Series)

Night With Drive-By Shooting Stars (New Issues Poetry & Prose)

STREET: Poems by Jim Daniels, Photographs by Charlee Brodsky (Working Lives)

Visual Poetry

A link to an essay by Geof Huth about visual poetry (on the Poetry Foundation site):

Visual Poetry

And a link to a book:

Modern Visual Poetry

Poets and Disability

Broadening my search for poets and poetry during National Poetry Month, I found some interesting links concerning the subject of disability and poets.

Here's is a link to an essay by Jillian Weise concerning disabled poets; the essay acknowledges legitimate questions about such terms, concepts, and identities as "disabled poet," "poet with a disability," "'crip' poetry," and so on, and it spends time on the work of Josephine Miles and Louise Gluck.(I saw/heard Josephine Miles read at U.C. Davis once.)

Here is a link to a site for disabled poets, although the site seems not to have been updated since 2005.

Here is a link to a site called nonsite collective and a discussion of "poetics and disablement."

And finally here's a link to a poem by Wilfred Owen I had not seen before; it's titled simply "Disabled" and concerns a former soldier (in World War I, of course).

Among My Favorites: Randall Jarrell

During National Poetry Month, I though I'd mention some of my favorite poets from time to time--in no particular order.  Randall Jarrell remains one of my favorites.  He wrote chiefly in free verse, and he often wrote dramatic monologues.  No doubt his most famous poem is "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner," a brief, uncanny, seemingly perfect poem.  I also like "Next Day," "The Woman at the Washington Zoo," and "90 North," among others.  Jarrell was also a well known--and somewhat feared--critic of poetry.  After he had reviewed one of Karl Shapiro's books, Shapiro wrote that he felt "run over but not injured" (my paraphrase) by the review.


Here's a link to more information about Jarrell.

And some links to books by and about him:

The Complete Poems

Poetry and the Age

The Bat-Poet

Remembering Randall: A Memoir of Poet, Critic, and Teacher Randall Jarrell

A Sad Heart at the Supermarket: Essays and Fables

National Poetry Month

It's National Poetry Month once more, at least in the U.S. Here's a link to what Poets.org is offering in connection with NPM:

Poets.org

Gold

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Gold

Gold is many things because we've made it so.
Heavy's the main thing it is, though.
If you'd find it by the river then,
the main imperative is to get low.

Find bedrock, which is the top
of something semi-permanent
that the river hasn't yet moved.
Find holes and crevices. Stop.

Get to the bottom of them. If
there's gold, there's where the gold
will be, along with lead, black sand,
and such. You won't hold it in your hand

'til after you've rinsed away what's
lighter in your pan, and even then
you may get only flecks. This has
never gone without saying: there

will never be enough of gold to
satisfy or even feed you because
whatever forces made gold,
made it rare. Gold's not fair.

It is of another scheme, a geologic
farce in which stars spit planets
like sunflower seeds and infinity
isn't amused. Lord knows gold glows--

but dully. It rarely shines. It hates
to move, wants to be left alone. It's
soft, hard to get, harder to hold. Sometimes
it's welded in a vein to quartz. We call that ore.


Copyright 2010 Hans Ostrom