Some readers and writers do not like Billy Collin's poetry. They say it is too easy among other things. They write
and here
and here on his recent book Nine Horses
Amazon.com Review
"In Nine Horses, Billy Collins, U.S. poet laureate and author of the bestselling collection Sailing Alone Around the Room, attempts to find beauty in simplicity, but ends up achieving the simply banal. Some poems, such as "Rooms" and "Obituaries," in which readers are given freedom to draw their own conclusions, are memorable, but the language in Nine Horses has little music and thoughts are plainly stated."
Read the rest of the review and readers' comments.
There are days when I find what the naysayers say about B.C.'s poetry true. Other days I revel in his writing for the very same reasons. Some days all I want is a warm piece of freshly baked bread smothered with butter or an apple in a poem that is an an apple nothing more.
I am a bit behind on my reading. poetry 180, the anthology and the poetry 180 website have been around for a while. Read about Collin's poetry 180 project that was created with high school students in mind to make poetry more accessible and enjoyable for these readers and with the intention that one poem could be read or listened to each of the 180 days school was in session that year. http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/
I was curious what kind of poems would be in a Billy Collin's edited anthology. Many are witty and charming as are Collin's poems. Many do not require minutes or hours of reflection but there are poems that ellicit reflection and that feeling of angst that appears in much contemporary poetry, that feeling some naysayers of Collins suggest is not in his own work.
Among the poets whose work appears in the anthology are Stephen Dobyns, Sharon Olds, Phillip Levine, Charles Simic, David Ray, Rebecca Wee, Naomi Shihab Nye, Lucille Clifton and Daisey Fried.
These are three of my favorite poems in the anthology
One is by children's book author Jane Yolen.
Fat Is Not a Fairy Tale
I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Cinder Elephant,
Sleeping Tubby,
Snow Weight,
where the princess is not
anorexic, wasp-waisted,
flinging herself down the stairs.
I am thinking of a fairy tale,Cinder Elephant,
Sleeping Tubby,
Snow Weight,
where the princess is not
anorexic, wasp-waisted,
flinging herself down the stairs.
Hansel and Great,
Repoundsel,
Bounty and the Beast,
where the beauty
has a pillowed breast,
and fingers plump as sausage.
I am thinking of a fairy tale
that is not yet written,
for a teller not yet born,
for a listener not yet conceived,
for a world not yet won,
where everything round is good:
the sun, wheels, cookies, and the princess.
~ Jane Yolen
| My Father's Hat | ||
| by Mark Irwin | ||
Sunday mornings I would reach high into his dark closet while standing on a chair and tiptoeing reach higher, touching, sometimes fumbling the soft crowns and imagine I was in a forest, wind hymning through pines, where the musky scent of rain clinging to damp earth was his scent I loved, lingering on bands, leather, and on the inner silk crowns where I would smell his hair and almost think I was being held, or climbing a tree, touching the yellow fruit, leaves whose scent was that of a clove in the godsome air, as now, thinking of his fabulous sleep, I stand on this canyon floor and watch light slowly close on water I'm not sure is there. http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16707 Dog's Death by John Updike
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