May 2013
1 post
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from Olena Kalytiak Davis, "Logical Games For The...
All night I kept solving for G. Now, through this dark morning, the equation escapes at the sad speed of light.
There are so many things I don’t understand. The future comes and it’s no longer excited to be here.
There are so many things I can’t know. My old friends, are they happy?
That small square of light
I went and sat inside it and my heart lifted, I swear it.
April 2013
1 post
March 2013
4 posts
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from Charles Wright, "Scar Tissue II"
One never gets used to this— Immensity and its absolute, December chill Like fingernails on the skin— That something far away has cracked you, ever so slightly And entered and gone, one never should.
“The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one...”
– Czeslaw Milosz, Ars Poetica, c. 1980 (via poetryeater)
“I don’t invent anything. I just keep rewriting the same book. I sympathize with...”
– Kenneth Goldsmith (via poetryeater)
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“we did not know ouselves what to do with ou bodies ight now”
– foulipo
http://www.drunkenboat.com/db8/oulipo/feature-oulipo/essays/spahr-young/foulipo.html
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February 2013
4 posts
“It would be nice
to interfere with the accuracy of the world.”
– from Lisa Robertson, “Palinode” (via poetryeater)
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“Poetry’s traditional role is to boast that it knows; that if only others...”
– Stacy Doris
January 2013
18 posts
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“If creativity is the focusing of language to the object of the poet’s...”
– Raymond McDaniel
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from Vasko Popa, "Far Within Us #2"
poetryeater:
On the edges of our laughter A snake coiled in the depths of the mirror Will I be able to hide you From your face in mine Look it’s the third shadow On our imagined walk Unexpected abyss Between our words Hoofs clattering Below the vaults of our palates Will I be able On this unrest-field To raise you a tent of my hands
trans. Anne...
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on reflection
The impulse had always been to travel the road alone. Night wood full of lead, mercury pool, dark splash of the no-fish. And what of light: orbed patch of wet fire. There was something you wanted to say. So many earless creatures listening.
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a precarious life on the sea
the ocean you grew up watching has decided, finally, to take you in. “where else was i going to go?” you ask, setting off. it coughs up squid and minnows into your little boat for you to eat. you throw them back because you know the ocean is hungrier. at night, the moon casts a sidelong glance into your boat – you are less round. the ocean carries you from place to place, each day a little easier,...
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“What has praise and fame to do with poetry? Was not writing poetry a secret...”
– Virginia Woolf
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“‘Is it neccessary to suffer in order to be a writer?’ aspiring...”
– Margaret Atwood
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“But now he knows these hills, that is to say he knows them better, and if ever...”
– Samuel Beckett, Molloy
“For language is arbitrarily produced by the imagination and has relation to...”
– Percy Shelley
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“The desire that is stirred by language is located most interestingly within...”
– Lyn Hejinian, “The Rejection of Closure”
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une publication
Very excited to be published on poet Stuart Ross’s blog, “The Week Shall Inherit the Verse”! Check out my poem here.
And check out some of Stuart’s wonderful work & thoughts here.
“Expressing any thing there can be no repetition because the essence of that...”
– Gertrude Stein “Portraits and Repetitions”
November 2012
3 posts
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lipogram for a friend on the occasion of her...
sarah c louise
sarah’s aria: a lace horse loosed on choral acres. us: heirs to a carol-solaria. a chorus ashore helio rushes.
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“A loss of harmony with the surrounding space, the inability to feel at home in...”
– Czeslaw Milosz, “On Exile”
October 2012
6 posts
“In my last letter I spoke of the tradition. The fools that read these letters...”
– Jack Spicer
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“A poem, when it works, is an action of the mind captured on a page, and the...”
– Anne Carson
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exciting news!
I am very pleased and honoured to be working on my master’s thesis (a.k.a. book of poems) with Governor-General’s Award winning poet Stephanie Bolster for my two years in Montreal! (I am especially happy because the supervisor’s choose us, instead of the other way around!)
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sophie
they were the days in which i swung you from a tiny swing lodged between two tall pines on the edge of a forest facing the ocean where we grew to understand the signs of the solid branch, the green vine.
your small body on a seat between my two arms i used to gently pull you towards the tree line. i let go to watch your back espouse the blue water then just as quickly your arms are back in...
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“The reason we go to poetry is not for wisdom, but for the dismantling of wisdom.”
– Jacques Lacan
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found poem:
so soft everything was in the blue-gray moonlight, the moon no longer completely full. how permeable the landscape looked, as if I could just walk through the hills and the trees, walk through them, not over them, as if they would yield.
- from Jamaica Kincaid’s Among Flowers
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nightjar: for wang wei
and what of it: a voice wedged in too-narrow canyons now found only in hollow bottles of wine. each night, amid black forests, a moon of deep song rises. the invisible wingspan of the sublime stretches above your memory: how will you make your way there?
September 2012
6 posts
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“[i carry your heart with me{i carry it...
from Louise Glück, “Matins”
poetryeater:
Left alone, we exhausted each other. Years of darkness followed; we took turns working the garden, the first tears filling our eyes as earth misted with petals, some dark red, some flesh coloured— We never thought of you who we were learning to worship. We merely knew it wasn’t human nature to love only what returns love.
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from Dan Berman, "Classic Water"
Sometimes I’m awakened in the middle of the night by the clatter of a room service cart and I think back on Kitty. Those summer evenings by the government lake, talking about the paradox of multiple Santas or how it felt to have your heart broken.
I still get a hollow feeling on Labor Day when the summer ends and I remember how I would always refer to her boyfriends as what’s-his-face, which...
July 2012
1 post
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the loosed tide’s fish ride the wave’s gait across oceans. i haven’t found you.
May 2012
1 post
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napowrimo #30: memoir
lorne lake, a year later
I remember we used to stand in the middle of the frozen lake while the wind spoke in tongues over our laughter and raw-skinned hands.
I remember the Canadian geese milling their rubber voices over low waters— how the sound bore itself back to us long after the birds left our sight.
I remember, above us all, the red moon stewing over the lake, a pendulum between memory...
April 2012
30 posts
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napowrimo #29: clerihew
my dear little sister discovered a mister and fell in a trance (too bad he’s from france)
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napowrimo #28: space poem
outer space, in winter
when it snows, the horses in the ranchlands from princeton to keremeos come into view like mushrooms in a yard– strange and sprung as though one should be surprised to see them out there though it is not unusual. the way they catch the weather on their hides turns their skin to galaxies. I can see outer space as the...
i got featured!
just wanted to share my excitement about having been featured on national poetry month’s blog! what an honour!
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napowrimo #27: nursery rhyme
the timid kingfisher
kingfisher, kingfisher resting on the rooftop I hear you are a well-wisher have you any fish?
none to give, none to give but I have something more a little bird you could forgive for flying from your shore!
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napowrimo #26
elegy
in my thoughts, i descend into my own nothingness. note how common this is. a kind of death born of contemplation, of all our efforts to attain a good result. it is no news, then, that serious mistakes can be made even with the greatest good will. certain delusions are to be seen as a normal part of life. those who think they know from the beginning, will, in fact, never come to know...
