[New-Poetry] Poetic Justice

[Bob Grumman]

>
> I label the following poem Tongue-Tinsel and Brain-Reset, with a 
> flying approach to near-Breathtaking:
You're supposed to say why it's breath-taking, Judy.

--Bob
>
> Oct 24, 2008 12:16 AM
>
>
>     I love the purring of knowing them
>     <http://poemsfromprovidence.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-love-purring-of-knowing-them.html>
>
> by Peter Ciccariello
> I love the purring of knowing them, 
> So I will be moving the useless telephone
> Of my monstrous self to the ubiquitous ringtone 
> That has been disrupting everyone's sleep
> When is a heaven such a useless tell?
> The letters and burning envelopes
> Resting so soft and full on the edge of your bedside table 
> Are the only existing explanations of our archeology.
> Listening to the warm purring of the flames against the laid paper
> Reminds one how unpredictably disaster follows reticulation
> These all should arrive in your post next week, 
> the edges of the burning, the purring, and the love.
> Asking you only to tell them that I am gone, lover, 
> That we found all the evidence lover, and went ahead 
> anyway, with full knowledge of our actions. 
> I scratched all this conveniently in the mahogany 
> On your side of the bed
>
>
> -------------------------------
>
>
> 2008/10/30 John Jeffrey <jjeffreymail at yahoo.com 
> <mailto:jjeffreymail at yahoo.com>>
>
>     Bob,
>
>     I didn't mean to give the impression that I was attacking your
>     kind of art, and I apologize if you felt that.  I only disagree
>     with the definition of creativity.  I wouldn't have the snowballs
>     to attack your fort because, to be honest, I don't understand New
>     Poetry.  I've tried.  I've read it.  I've read theory.  But I get
>     nothing.
>
>     And not just the otherstreams, either.  Even the major rivers
>     leave me nodding off on the banks.  A few weeks ago, the Writer's
>     Almanac had one of those yawners that makes me weep at the state
>     of poetry.  The title was "The Poet Goes to Indiana" (by Mary
>     Oliver) and the first stanza read:
>
>        I'll tell you a half-dozen things
>        that happened to me
>        in Indiana
>        when I went that far west to teach.
>        You tell me if it was worth it.
>
>     By the time I got to the third line I was thinking, What do I
>     care?  And look at that third line: "In Indiana."  In Indiana? 
>     That's worthy of its own line? a principal unit? a piece of the
>     pie? a lego block? a thought that adds to the whole?  Bah!  No
>     beauty in the writing.  No form to flatter.  No images.  No
>     surprises.  Nothing but chit-chatty broken out by grammatical
>     clauses.  Bah, I say again.
>
>     And I'd dismiss is except that it's not atypical.
>
>     I think we're in a poetic bear market.  Those near-empty spaces
>     that you see if you look at poetry timelines, like the post Milton
>     dirth.  We're in the dirth after a pretty good early 20th
>     century.  It's been trending downward since.  (Though I'll admit
>     my tastes are demode.)
>
>     That's one of the reasons I joined this group: to read
>     contemporary poets talking about contemporary poetry.  I thought
>     that maybe some understanding would leap from the emails into my
>     eyes.  But it's slow coming.
>
>     John
>
>
>
>
>     ------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
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