"The purpose of art is to stop time." Bob Dylan
"That is what stories and poems do, what all art does. Art is energy, held in a form long enough to be experienced."
Ordinary Genius- A Guide for the Poet Within by Kim Addonizio
http://www.amazon.com/Ordinary-Genius-Guide-Poet-Within/dp/0393334163
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Helpful Site- Rhymes
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Wednesday, April 14, 2010
New Eclectica! Poetry, Fiction, Book Reviews, Interviews, Commentary.
One of my favorite poems from the issue.
The Story—Shoshauna Shy—
Poems About Birds - Poets Online, A site of inspiration since 1998
March 2010
Why have so many poets gone to the birds for inspiration? Song certainly has something to do with it. With poets probably first being singers, birds were natural compatriots.
And how many writers were delighted to discover in some classroom those poetic collective nouns. The avian ones were particularly appealing to me: a murder of crows, a murmuration of starlings, a parliament of fowls.
The poems we used as models included Sandpiper" by Elizabeth Bishop."
Check out my bird poem THE RESTAURANT IS CROWDED EACH MORNING NO MATTER WHAT THE WEATHER, and bird poems by Kathleen Harm, Marie A. Mennuto-Rovello, Michael P. McDermott, Del McNulty Ken Ronkowitz,Pammy, Christopher Morriss, Charles Michaels, Kathy Nelson, Patty Joslyn, Russ Allison Loar,Taylor Graham,Vivien Jones, Emily Henderson and Edward Halperin.
Read the rest
http://web.njit.edu/~ronkowit/poetsonline/archive/arch_birds.html
Saturday, April 3, 2010
napowrimo #3: scared yet?
Teeth Mark Fantasy Draft
by
E.P.G
It is arid August
and the trees sweat
sucking drops of moisture
from the air to relieve
their thirst.
Asters stand on the hill
My white hidden from the sun legs
wrap around your waist
in the tepid pond.
My feet dangle.
We swim together conjoined twins-
You are my Atlas
holding up my world.
Birds’ nests bare
Alligators boulders’ eyes
ripe-
Hard teeth waiting
To devour.
http://readwritepoem.org/blog/2010/04/03/napowrimo-prompt-3-scared-yet/
by
E.P.G
It is arid August
and the trees sweat
sucking drops of moisture
from the air to relieve
their thirst.
Asters stand on the hill
My white hidden from the sun legs
wrap around your waist
in the tepid pond.
My feet dangle.
We swim together conjoined twins-
You are my Atlas
holding up my world.
Birds’ nests bare
Alligators boulders’ eyes
ripe-
Hard teeth waiting
To devour.
http://readwritepoem.org/blog/2010/04/03/napowrimo-prompt-3-scared-yet/
Thursday, April 1, 2010
April Poems and Drafts - Read Write Poetry Challenge
April 1
First Draft
The Floods in New England March 2010
These days there are birds with raincoats
on my windowsill
I sit in my water free house
my dry fountain of sorrow preening imagined wings
Looking up at the sky
There is grayness and rain
in streets on roofs inside other's basements and bedrooms
clothes, couches, food, love photos of weddings and births
are soggy and damp
rivers rise brooks bulge, drips grow gargantuan
Gladly I praise my good fortune
to not live near a river bank
It is late for the sky to be so introverted with grief
No signs of heat and bloom buds
irises in the front garden
Nothing speaks of spring.
I am the pretender
Vertical lines of water fall
I sing loudly to overcome the sound
hitting my flat roof.
It is hard to see people running on empty
Hope is that thing with feathers
Call it a loan or whatever but let hope
attach itself to people's skin
after the rain.
after the rain.
Lines from Next Voice You Hear/ The Best of Jackson Browne
These Days
Fountain of Sorrow
Late for the Sky
The Pretender
Running on Empty
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