more Sandburg

Sandburg is my retreat today. The opening of his poem, Alone and Not Alone. "There must be a place/ a room and a sanctuary/ set apart for silence."

Sandburg inspiration

Two days ago, when I went on a book buy for our bookstore, I snagged a paperback of Carl Sandburg's Honey and Salt. What could be better with my first cup of coffee, light turning Pikes Peak rosy, and a new day ahead of me. The second poem in the book, Pass, Friend, ends with these two lines, "I who have loved morning know its doors./ I who have loved night know its keys." How I wish I had written those two lines. BUT, given the themes they represent, I may crib his concept of knowing the doors of morning and keys of night and write from there. Sandburg, I consider him to be one of the most under-valued poets in the canon of American literature. The first poem in the book is the title poem, Honey and Salt, about the vagaries of love. A delicious poem, one I can read aloud and hold and savor on the tongue. One of my favorite lines from that poem, "or two wishes riding on the back of a/ morning wind in winter." And the lines for the title, "There are sanctuaries/ holding honey and salt." Look at The Wilderness by Sandburg. A wildly splendid poem that even young students today could read, and discuss, covering everything from evolution to man's inhumanity to man. I've had a wonderful morning with Sandburg and you can find his poems just with a simple Google or Yahoo search, like, Carl Sandburg, The Wilderness poem.

Relationships

As I was browsing an art instruction book this morning, I came across this, "Do not paint things, paint relationships." So true for poetry too. Relationships and then in my email pops up this poem by Dave Bonta, entitled Loggerhead. check it out on www.wordpress.com, Poets for Living Waters emails the poems to me. This particular writing is more of a description and behaviour poem, and what brings it to life for me is the relationships the turtle has in marine life. From my POV, this also is why "still lifes" should not be called still lifes. Because if they are "relationships" then they are dynamic. Do poets write "still lifes?" Are they dynamic, with energy and passion? Those are the poems that survive.

Answer to comments

I still have not figured out how to comment on comments and how to let everyone see the reader's comments but H is coming next week to teach me. Julie asked about dashes and commas and their use in poems. I consider the white page a canvas and may do whatever I want to "paint my picture" and either make it work for myself or my audience or both. My goal is for my audience to enjoy the "poem experience" the words and their meanings create. Look at e. e. cummings. Many of his poems are wonderful, some however, are too jumbled to immediately understand. Julie also asked, CAN ANYONE BE A POET? I cannot answer that. BUT, anyone who can speak can write, at least write down what they would speak. And with some work, anyone can write a loving "message," maybe not a "poem" to a loved one, but heartfelt. And once that communication begins, and diligent observation of the exterior world and the internal knowledge and feelings of that, persists in being expressed in words -- poems can arrive through that birth canal and burst into air and with a gulp and cry, a whisper and shudder, grow towards poetry.

write to your loved ones part 3

As I wrote on the first blog of this exercise you do not have to be a "poet" to writ something sensitive and special to your loved one(s). And "love poem" is not meant just for your spouse -- how about your children? Friends? Parents and grandparents? Favorite Aunt or Uncle? Cousin. Anyhow. Keep it simple. Observations that celebrate the recipient of the poem. Yes, the recipient. The twist is this, the love poem is not about you, not about your gushy feelings, no, it is about the recipient, written in such a way that it celebrates them, and your love. I decided to take one observation and only one to write from today. When we share morning coffee do you know' how delicately you cradle the cup up to your lips and blow off a stream of steam, then you open your eyes wider and look at me and we talk ourselves into that moment when, after refills of coffee and more talk of our day's agendas, we rise from the table and kiss and go into our day each to our own agendas, always, with the warmth of the coffee steam, and the lip touch of the kiss -- and that is when I know again, you are my best friend. OBSERVE OBSERVE OBSERVE and re-write from those observations, simple, straightforward. Jim

Write to your loved ones part 2

So, as I review what I wrote yesterday, I feel as though I need more specific observations and considerations, about my spouse's behavior that I can appreciate, even the foibles, like leaving the vacuum cleaner in the hallway when she cleans house and I invariably trip over it. And I ask myself, if this is going to be an intimate writing, between only myself and my spouse, do I dare get really intimate and mention what I love about her in loving? Serious consideration. And is it necessary to convey the love I feel for her? I think I will stay with daily activities, sensations and observations. Loving times can be a different poem. And even a lover's love poem can be sensuous and sexy without details, consider Neruda's line, "As I mark the atlas of your body --" you fill in the intimate details. So, think about your loved one -- and observe, get into the moment of sensuous delight, and we'll continue tomorrow. Cheers

Write to your loved one(s)

Dear Friends, This has been the busiest week of my year and as a result had neither time nor psychic energy o blog -- but now that I can be back on track, let me share with you ad special moment in last weeks many special events. On Thursday evening Mary and I cooked dinner for the 16 members of the faculty and staff of the Antiquarian Booksellers Seminar, held here every year at CC. After dinner, during dessert with tirimisu and limoncella, I presented a love poem I had written for Mary. A straightforward poem of describing what I loved about her femininity. Finished, I challenged the men at the table to think about writing a love poem to their spouse or significant partner. Of course, they all indicated they were not poets. My response: You do not have to be a poet to write a sensitive, enamoring, thoughtful, beautiful expression in words to celebrate your love and joyous affection for your partner, male or female. Observe, simply observe her or him. Be in the moment. What attracts you -- the sound of her voice? The way he takes out the trash without being asked? How she flirts her hair with bangs? How he always refills your coffee so you don't have to get up? Or brings in the paper and opens it on the table for you? Be in the moment: Sniff her skin, hear, feel, taste, and write simple straightforward observations. DO NOT attempt to wax poetic and DO NOT use comparisons or metaphors. When we have coffee in the morning I like the way you wrap your fingers around the coffee cup and I see your eyes light up as you sip the first taste your voice when you read a Peanuts cartoon to me and you impersonate Lucy freshly showered, your hair hangs loosely, touching the milky skin of your shoulder etc etc, until you become aware of what made you write all of this in the first place, that sixth sense, above and beyond the physical, the epiphany of that moment, such as James Wright had when he wrote the poem about the two horses in the pasture "If I step out of my body I would break into blossom." For this exercise, maybe I'd write "When I look at you at breakfast, I am praying with my eyes open." So, as the world spins in a daily revolution around itself and moves farther in its circle around the sun, be here and be here now, in front of your loved one, and observe, and share, and enoble and enrich both of your lives. TOMORROW: how would I re-write this?

I'll be back

Due to our involvement with the Rocky Mountain Book Fair and the Antiquarian Booksellers Seminar, my bookseller's hat is on top of my poet hat, but I will be back to blogging very soon, Thursday. WRITE ON!

Face to Face Poetry

What a joy. This afternoon I was "poet in residence" at the COPPER office in the Plaza of the Rockies As men and women from the offices upstairs toured the art gallery and came into the Copper office, they were treated to cupcakes and live poetry from yours truly. I read poems from the Poetry While You Wait book, and poems from my book, Sunfire. My audience was right in front of me, four fee away at the table. I could feel their presence, see their eyes, watch their skin twitch, head tilt, body language move closer to me, or sit back. This "intimacy" made me change my performance, be more personal, and with one or two people in front of me, it was scary in a way, because I either reached them or didn't. A joy, to have someone sitting right in front of me, open to poems. And the light in their faces. Smiles when they gave me feedback. Cheers to all.

Poetic Justice

This so bizarre that I must report it: The middle finger of Galileo's right hand is in the Museo di Storia della Scienza in Florence, Italy. Yes. You read that correctly. "The finger was detached from Galileo's body on March 12, 1737, when his remains were transferred to the main body of the church of Santa Croce, Florence." In the book, Galileo's Finger by Peter Atkins. Imagine that, the poet of the heavens, even after death, still giving the finger to those who sought to condemn him and the truths of the universe. Blessed be the Italians who liberated that finger. Everytime you want to write about the sun, moon, universe, see that divine middle finger, rising, in final tribute to truth.

Writing Poetry

The September issue of Writer's Digest, (received July 26), Robert Brewer list 10 essential rules of poetry, and I suggest you might look at them. Basically, we follow those guidelines. But he omitted an essential rule. His rule number one is: Keep the poetry coming, and then he skips to #2 Read Poetry By Others, and on to other rules and he fails to mention the all important rule: READ OUT LOUD TO YOURSELF. read for those words your tongue trips over, read for rhythm, read for balance in the line, read to feel the words coming up from your heart, and if they are not coming up from your heart, then look at what you have written and find that authentic voice that will make the poem shine in print and in performance. Then go read some Shakespeare and feel the beauty of that language in your mouth and throat, and then read Whitman and hear that authentic human voice, sometimes whispering, sometimes shouting, but always there, full force. Then read your own work again, tweak what needs polishing. Good writing.

Rainy Monday

Rain, thundering hooves, pounding the roof, Rushing out of the gutter, so much rain; then that scent, we will survive, then the chill in the air, the desire to snuggle against her warm flesh. Instead, we make grilled cheese sandwiches and stir warm milk into the tomato soup.