I am currently doing some experiments, and rapidly transforming my work. I don't think only form poetry demands discipline. I believe in William Carlos Williams, e.e. cummings, DH Lawrence or T. E. Hulme's philosophies/vers libre movement.
Published in Hudson Review, Texas Review, Verse Daily, International Poetry Review, Pedestal Magazine, Poetic Diversity, Poetry International, Poetry Repairs Shop, Poetry Life and Times, Autumn Leaves, etc.
People ask for criticism, but they only want praise.
--W. Somerset Maugham
ONE ART
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-- Elizabeth Bishop
Learning the Trees
Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.
The words themselves are a delight to learn,
You might be in a foreign land of terms
Like samara, capsule, drupe, legume and pome,
Where bark is papery, plated, warty or smooth.
But best of all are the words that shape the leaves –
Orbicular, cordate, cleft and reniform –
And their venation – palmate and parallel –
And tips – acute, truncate, auriculate.
Sufficiently provided, you may now
Go forth to the forests and the shady streets
To see how the chaos of experience
Answers to catalogue and category.
Confusedly. The leaves of a single tree
May differ among themselves more than they do
From other species, so you have to find,
All blandly says the book, "an average leaf."
Example, the catalpa in the book
Sprays out its leaves in whorls of three
Around the stem; the one in front of you
But rarely does, or somewhat, or almost;
Maybe it's not catalpa? Dreadful doubt.
It may be weeks before you see an elm
Fanlike in form, a spruce that pyramids,
A sweetgum spiring up in steeple shape.
Still, pedetemtim as Lucretious says,
Little by little, you do start to learn;
And learn as well, maybe, what language does
And how it does it, cutting across the world
Not always at the joints, competing with
Experience while cooperating with
Experience, and keeping an obstinate
Intransigence, uncanny, of its own.
Think finally about the secret will
Pretending obedience to Nature, but
Invidiously distinguishing everywhere,
Dividing up the world to conquer it.
And think also how funny knowledge is:
You may succeed in learning many trees
And calling off their names as you go by,
But their comprehensive silence stays the same.
--Howard Nemerov
Encouragement of Art
If you mean to please everybody you will
Set to work both ignorance and skill.
For a great multitude are ignorant,
And skill to them seems raving and rant.
Like putting oil and water in a lamp,
'Twill make a great splutter with smoke and damp.
For there is no use as it seems to me
Of lighting a lamp, when you don't wish to see.
(incomplete)
--\William Blake\
Published in Hudson Review, Texas Review, Verse Daily, International Poetry Review, Pedestal Magazine, Poetic Diversity, Poetry International, Poetry Repairs Shop, Poetry Life and Times, Autumn Leaves, etc.
People ask for criticism, but they only want praise.
--W. Somerset Maugham
ONE ART
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-- Elizabeth Bishop
Learning the Trees
Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.
The words themselves are a delight to learn,
You might be in a foreign land of terms
Like samara, capsule, drupe, legume and pome,
Where bark is papery, plated, warty or smooth.
But best of all are the words that shape the leaves –
Orbicular, cordate, cleft and reniform –
And their venation – palmate and parallel –
And tips – acute, truncate, auriculate.
Sufficiently provided, you may now
Go forth to the forests and the shady streets
To see how the chaos of experience
Answers to catalogue and category.
Confusedly. The leaves of a single tree
May differ among themselves more than they do
From other species, so you have to find,
All blandly says the book, "an average leaf."
Example, the catalpa in the book
Sprays out its leaves in whorls of three
Around the stem; the one in front of you
But rarely does, or somewhat, or almost;
Maybe it's not catalpa? Dreadful doubt.
It may be weeks before you see an elm
Fanlike in form, a spruce that pyramids,
A sweetgum spiring up in steeple shape.
Still, pedetemtim as Lucretious says,
Little by little, you do start to learn;
And learn as well, maybe, what language does
And how it does it, cutting across the world
Not always at the joints, competing with
Experience while cooperating with
Experience, and keeping an obstinate
Intransigence, uncanny, of its own.
Think finally about the secret will
Pretending obedience to Nature, but
Invidiously distinguishing everywhere,
Dividing up the world to conquer it.
And think also how funny knowledge is:
You may succeed in learning many trees
And calling off their names as you go by,
But their comprehensive silence stays the same.
--Howard Nemerov
Encouragement of Art
If you mean to please everybody you will
Set to work both ignorance and skill.
For a great multitude are ignorant,
And skill to them seems raving and rant.
Like putting oil and water in a lamp,
'Twill make a great splutter with smoke and damp.
For there is no use as it seems to me
Of lighting a lamp, when you don't wish to see.
(incomplete)
--\William Blake\
- Last seen 8 hours ago. Member since February 16, 2005.
- I'm a lyric diamond poet for 2,321 comments.
- I am a 32 year old guy (India)
- When I'm not writing, I'm an Editor.
- I have 2,321 comments, 5 contests, 3 columns, 108 poems, 1 story, 1 philosophy
Poems I'm focused on
-
Feels like the calmness
after a tropical storm, -
Objects assume shapes and colors,
an experience of contradiction -
A huge emptiness gobbles up
everything, but inside -
He is seen among the massive columns
in the early November sunrise21 lines, 1 comment, November 3, 2008. In Society, Dark, Contest, Contemporary, Angst, Political Science, Obama -
Peeling an orange,
an old extended image, -
We are like that Amnesic man
who forgets his name every morning. -
The night vanishes like wounds, but nothing heals;
the poor walk like bruises,9 lines, 1 comment, October 5, 2008 -
He is seventy two and older than nuclear bomb.
He is in forties, and heading for history.25 lines, 1 comment, October 3, 2008 -
Did he invent capitalism, or the greed?
His brother was sent to fight a war,14 lines, 2 comments, September 30, 2008 -
The price of a loaf of bread traces
some greedy oily futures position14 lines, September 27, 2008 -
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Our doubts rise
on the waves of a tempest, -
A man searches / for emotional space, escapes / in the day, returns / in the evening, and wakes up / crowded in the night / inside a room that leads / to abandoned rooms, / where his heart beats, / m
Active Contests
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1. Ecphrasic poem on any m. c. Escher painting (Print Gallery is my current favorite) 2. Mention the name of the painting in the note 3. Max 50 lines1050 points, ends December 3, 11 entries
My Poetry
My Stories
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Tista was a city living in amnesia. Most of its inhabitants were the prisoners who had thick dossiers of hard-core crime against their name. There were a few, who were appointe449 lines, 8 comments, September 13, 2005. In <200 lines, Science fiction
Guest Book
1 - 4 of 6
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cvillelisa on March 25, 2008
Hi D!
Just wanted to say I saw your name on Liza's poem! Good to see you...
Lisa -
ArtFullyMe on February 20, 2008
sending you good thoughts....and well wishes..
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cvillelisa on March 23, 2007
Not sure how you got off my faves but you did. Been looking for you and now I know why I didn't see you!
I don't know if you can get your hands on this book but I really think you'd enjoy it, I know I mentioned it but wanted to give you the details:
Wai-lim Yip
Ezra Pound's Cathay
Princeton University Press, 1969
I am reading today about Pound's description of Poetry as "equations for emotions"
Hope you are well.
Lisa
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Ankeeta on January 30, 2007oye kithey ho!!!
