I’m back and working at figuring out the blog world again. This time I plan to stay. Bear with me. What I hope to do here: offer thoughts about the writing process (mine, because that’s what I know best), about poetry in general, and just thoughts.
This morning, for instance, I am still smiling at the wonderful reading last night in Brattleboro by Tim Mayo, Barbara Benoit & Jacqueline Gens. Three strong readings: Barbara’s poems about breast cancer are brave, deeply honest, and she delivers them in a bell-clear voice. Jacqueline (whom I have not heard read before) surprised me. I knew her work was rich with imagery and a depth of thought, but in conversation she is a quiet person. As a reader, her voice is powerful and full of confidence. The poems ring with clarity, conviction, truth. I’ve heard Tim read many times but this was my favorite of all his readings. His poetry is witty, ironic, sometimes self-deprecating, impeccably crafted. His delivery, warm, his connection with the audience, total. Last night, he read poems whose titles had all been titles he’d considered for his book (The Kingdom of Possibilities, Mayapple Press, 2009) . As many times as I’ve heard his poems such as The Frog and the Snake,” “All the Women I Almost Married,” “The Red Convertible,” I hear something new each time, and each time, I listen with delight. Here, for instance are the last three lines of
“The Frog and the Snake:”
What I want to confess, though you cannot see,
is that I blinded myself and wandered about
the kingdom of my possibilities for many years
And these from “The Red Convertible:”
You call me about your car—why does it smoke?
I want to say desire has caught your engine
and your well-oiled heart has frozen from the heat.
It’s reading such as this one that remind me, over and over, of how much I love poetry.
And about what richness poetry and the community of poets has brought into my life.
1 week ago