Poetry

The Lives of the Poets

Photo Credit: Vintage Typewriter [And they lived happily ever after...] by Theresa ThompsonI always feel a bit queasy when reading biographies and it's not just the voyeur's remorse. Maybe it's because biographies invariably remind me that my heroes could be petty and neurotic and boring and prone to eating tuna straight out of the can standing over the kitchen sink. Or maybe it's because I can't help thinking that all this sturm und drang, this tangled string of decisions and indecisions, this strange and messy stuff that is human existence cannot be (or at least should not be) cranked out at forty-five words a minute then bound and gagged between hardcovers. Real lives generally don't have narrative arcs.

The L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E Poets

Language Interchange 8 by J. E. TheriotI've been wrestling with the Language Poets for several years now. It's a pretty masochistic pursuit, but I believe if one is going to write poetry in the 21st century (speaking of masochistic pursuits) one must come to grips with them one way or another. For good and ill, they bent the perameters of the art in such a fundamental way that even vehemently non-experimental poets must take their ideas into account. 

A Defense of the Poetry of Jewel (Kind of)

Cover Art: A Night without Armor: Poems by JewelOkay. Okay. Okay. Please stop yelling. I can explain.
Yes, I realize there is a link to Jewel's book of "poems" down there. No, I haven't read the book. No, I do not intend to read it. Yes, my reasons for not reading it are snobbish and do not reflect well on me as a person. No, I don't really care. 

GLBT Poetry

Photo Credit: Elod-Eye by Frédéric DupontIt has been said that we learn through our hands and fall in love through our eyes. I don't know if either is true, but I suspect both are. One thing I do know is that Eros is the most capricious of deities. We can't control who we're attracted to any more than we can control a sneeze.

The Geezer's Guide to Not Going Gentle into that Good Night

Photo Credit: relic dusted in sepia by psyberartistIt is an exasperating fact of life that the older you get, the younger the young get. Its corollary is that the greater your own age, the greater the age beside the word "young" in your internal dictionary. You won't really notice the latter until one day when you're talking to a guy with three kids and a second mortgage, you will hear yourself saying something like, "you're just a kid. Give it time..." You will, I guarantee, want to stick your tongue in the nearest wall socket, but deep down you will actually believe what you are saying.

National Poetry Month

There was a time – many, many years ago, before radio and television – that people found entertainment through reading. Not just silently to themselves, but aloud, for everyone. And not just popular novels of the day. People were hungry for education as well as entertainment. They also read the newspaper – and poetry. Almost everyone remembers learning some poems in school, and many of us probably have favorites that we can recite. Poems that touched us in a way that made us want to remember that moment, so we learned them by heart. Poems that were, in fact, made to be read aloud.

Bards of the West

April is (among other things) National Poetry Month. And I am glad to say that cowboys and poetry have a long association together. Cowboys have often been known to carry books in their saddlebags and more than a few have tried their hand at writing, in both prose and poetry. Long before the phenomenon of Country Music there were cowboys experiementing with the craft of versification. If you would like to read some of the cowboy poetry that has been and is still being written today, check out some of these titles from our catalog.

National Poetry Month: Eliot Didn't Call April the Cruelest One for Nothing

Paragraph One: In which the Author Discusses That Unpleasant After Taste. Personally, I'd opt for a National Take-A-Poet-To-Lunch Day over a whole month of funereal "celebrations” of the art.

Ai (1947-2010)

Portrait of Ai: Courtesy of the Poetry FoundationOne can get a pretty good idea of where the poet Ai was coming from by scanning the titles in her bibliography: Cruelty, Killing Floor, Sin, Fate, Greed, Vice, and Dread. To say she was a poet who carried a rather dark view of human character, or to say she was an in-your-face provocateur, or that she was a feminist, or a voice for the ethnic hybrid who is so often cast as Other--who is allowed to belong nowhere, is to diminish her art. Yes, she was all of those things and would, I think, unapologetically tell you so, but those labels do not touch her verbal dexterity, her skill with the rhythms of speech, nor her inventiveness.

Dulce et decorum est: War and Anti-War Poetry

Cover Art: Blue-Tail Fly by Vievee FrancisSoldiers have been writing poetry glorifying or abhorring war for as long as there have been soldiers and wars. Others have written poems lamenting war's inhumanity and its wastes every bit as long. I guess the best we can do is work toward the day when neither will be necessary.

Below you will find poetry occasioned by war from the Harris County Public Library Catalog.

 

 

Syndicate content