Poetics and Poetry Discussion
(1/24/2014 8:59:00 PM)
| Read 1 reply
Now you're talking Plume. This poem IS pretty good. I kinda like your taste Plume. You're smarter than I thought.
(1/24/2014 7:59:00 PM)
No no no. That one is too far above everyone's head. Too... well....too good. Relatively speaking that is. Acker set the bar pretty high. It's hard to follow a classic like that one. Why don't you ease us into it with the 'Blue Armadillos' or 'Purple Opossums'. Which ever one you prefer.
(1/24/2014 7:27:00 PM)
My choice would be that classic from Mike Acker, 'Summer '06'. Can we choose that one if we want?
(1/24/2014 11:47:00 AM)
| Read 1 reply
Therrie has decided that he wants to be me, and personally I don't blame him. I'm flattered (oh boy!) . You can easily see which is the real Plum by checking the posts on my Poet Site. I have several pages there and the new P. Plum has very few.
(if you care that is)
(1/24/2014 10:15:00 AM)
Once again Sherrie, please refrain from direct response and i will repay the favour likewise.
(1/23/2014 11:03:00 PM)
| Read 4 replies
I'll only address one thing of Plum's post because the rest of it was ludicrous: the Pushcart Prize, as I do like to put it into perspective and I think its important. Yes, there are a lot of nominees, as every journal, print and online, can nominate up to six poets who have appeared on their pages in that given year. Its not easy I'm sure picking only SIX poets out of sixty that may have been published that year. That alone shows its a very selective process. However, no matter how many poets are nominated, THREE times as many are NOT nominated each year. So its indeed a rather exclusive club, albeit, a big one. Yes, friends, relatives, (and lovers I'm sure) of editors are often nominated, just like friends of a particular poet may vote for him for the Pulitzer. So what?Nepotism, favoritism and politics are involved in every aspect of life. That doesn't denigrate the Pushcart a bit. But here's the thing: I don't believe editors nominate garbage just because they may be friends with the poet, for each nominee reflects back onto the editor. So a nomination, at the very least, would indicate that one's work is functioning on a certain level; a competency. Cliched, mawkish, amateurish work would not likely be nominated. Literary journals are mostly and necessarily labors of love, published by people who are passionate about poetry; its utterly about the quality of the poems. They sure don't do it for the money. So while everyone is aware that a Pushcart nomination isn't a National Book Award nomination, or a Pulitzer nomination, it is a type of recognition of sort; modest but meaningful. And, of course, to even be nominated, one has to be published, which is an achievement in and of itself. In my case, I received two nominations in the same year - each one from a different editor. I did nothing to receive those nominations, but submit poetry and be published.
I have a feeling this is not the real 'Plum' anyway, but if so, I appreciate your opinion, even while I ardently disagree. -LPReplies for this message:
(1/24/2014 2:55:00 PM)
One nom could possibly be 'explained' away, 'Therrie' my boy. But TWO?The second from a different editor?Sorry, but thats due to the strength of the poetry. Frankly, I think 'Cutting the Losses' migh ... more
(1/24/2014 2:31:00 PM)
Yes, one of my noms was from a friend - a friend who knows and appreciates good poetry and would have no reason to nominate my poem if it wasn't genuinely admired. If I can say so myself, it was a GRE ... more
To read all of 4 replies click here
- Lamont Palmer (1/24/2014 2:55:00 PM) Post reply
(1/23/2014 10:34:00 PM)
| Read 1 reply
Seems there are two of me!
Sherrie Kolb Cassel
(1/23/2014 8:12:00 PM)
| Read 1 reply
I see there continues to be empty-headed inferior-snipings, but nothing worth writing home to Mama about. I offer a poem that is bittersweet. xoxo
By Paisley Rekdal
I have been taught never to brag but now
I cannot help it: I keep
a beautiful garden, all abundance,
indiscriminate, pulling itself
from the stubborn earth: does it offend you
to watch me working in it,
touching my hands to the greening tips or
tearing the yellow stalks back, so wild
the living and the dead both
snap off in my hands?
The neighbor with his stuttering
fingers, the neighbor with his broken
love: each comes up my drive
to receive his pitying,
accustomed consolations, watches me
work in silence awhile, rises in anger,
walks back. Does it offend them to watch me
not mourning with them but working
fitfully, fruitlessly, working
the way the bees work, which is to say
by instinct alone, which looks like pleasure?
I can stand for hours among the sweet
narcissus, silent as a point of bone.
I can wait longer than sadness. I can wait longer
than your grief. It is such a small thing
to be proud of, a garden. Today
there were scrub jays, quail,
a woodpecker knocking at the white-
and-black shapes of trees, and someone’s lost rabbit
scratching under the barberry: is it
indiscriminate?Should it shrink back, wither,
and expurgate?Should I, too, not be loved?
It is only a little time, a little space.
Why not watch the grasses take up their colors in a rush
like a stream of kerosene being lit?
If I could not have made this garden beautiful
I wouldn’t understand your suffering,
nor care for each the same, inflamed way.
I would have to stay only like the bees,
beyond consciousness, beyond
self-reproach, fingers dug down hard
into stone, and growing nothing.
There is no end to ego,
with its museum of disappointments.
I want to take my neighbors into the garden
and show them: Here is consolation.
Here is your pity. Look how much seed it drops
around the sparrows as they fight.
It lives alongside their misery.
It glows each evening with a violent light.
(1/23/2014 5:06:00 PM)
It is almost impossible to get your work published nobody wants it!
(1/23/2014 2:15:00 PM)
Dash Black is back with new poems well struck....check out the stuck in the new pack! Love y'all! As from one poet to another!