“We might not be a good match if I write you a poem and you think we’re getting married.” Wearing all the brassiness and bravado I could muster, I retorted, “Well, what if I write you a poem?” Thus began the early workings of a relationship in motion. On our first date, out came a… Continue reading Bookbinding Bender
Tag: poetry
Persimmons by Li-Young Lee
A few weeks ago, I met some new friends in a coffeehouse in the South Bay. Cheryl and Beth were people whose acquaintance I’d made at a recent conference and we’d made a point to get together for a holiday catch-up. (Beth brought homemade rugelach; Cheryl treated to tea and tiny cupcakes. Somehow we began… Continue reading Persimmons by Li-Young Lee
Word as Art- R.H. Quaytman
Modern art. Canvas of miniscule stripes atop larger canvas of miniscule stripes. Just another painting hanging at the MOMA. Or is it? Upon closer inspection… A poem that Borges would like! The artist, R.H. Quaytman we discover has coyly engaged verse from Jack Spicer into his paintings. It starts, “The poem begins to mirror itself/”… Continue reading Word as Art- R.H. Quaytman
Giving Thanks & an Elegy by Yehuda Amichai
Many people give up on poetry. They think it does not have anything to say to them after high school English class. Perhaps, they think, it is for a certain social tier or for people who have time. I’m not sure of the why, but one of the when’s of their return to poetry can… Continue reading Giving Thanks & an Elegy by Yehuda Amichai
Word as Art
In college, I discovered that many things in life are free. Then again came the reality that a whole heck of a lot of things aren’t. Sometime during my sophomore year, I stumbled upon a delicious secret. It kept my weekend evenings regularly packed. It kept me well versed and amused at the theater. I… Continue reading Word as Art
Syrup, after Waffle: a conversation in poetry
Syrup after Waffle glass bottle amber sunlit liquid. tip the bottle, drip, drip, sizzle: waffle and sticky sweetness. blade of knife to square, tenderly it gives to the blade, its gentle steam. annelies zijderveld © 11/16/10 Waffle I can taste you in my mouth Your tenderness Your gentle steam Dripping with sweetness… Continue reading Syrup, after Waffle: a conversation in poetry
Sonnet 116
Melt. Swoon. I must say my way into this sonnet was via the mouth of Willoughby and Marianne teasing the words out of each other’s mouths and thus feeling a sense of inevitability, one evening in college. I found myself smitten with the buffoon we find Willoughby to become later on in Sense and Sensibility… Continue reading Sonnet 116
Let’s get social
Who doesn’t like a good story and when I mean a story, I mean a person. You’ve heard “don’t judge a book by its cover” and while the genesis of this phrase may have started with a book, let’s just say more often than not it’s intended for people. Journalism, waitressing, coffee barista, even librarian-… Continue reading Let’s get social
On feathered things
Some big changes are afoot. One such change is no longer being employed at the company that almost captured a decade of my life. It’s good to calibrate and sometimes re-calibrate along the journey. I remember graduating from school and thinking I would be overseas in six months. Eight years later, this is not where… Continue reading On feathered things
Larissa Szporluk’s “Deliverer”
“Dark Sky Question” as a title of a collection of poems sounds intriguing, doesn’t it? I found the poems inside equally compelling by what they tell and what they leave out. What would be the single question you might ask to a dark sky? What would its’ response be? Szporluk’s poems have an air of… Continue reading Larissa Szporluk’s “Deliverer”
Consider This: Poetics
Continuous Cities 4 By Italo Calvino You reproach me because each of my stories takes you right into the heart of a city without telling you of the space that stretches between one city and the other, whether it is covered by seas, or fields of rye, larch forests, swamps. I will answer you with… Continue reading Consider This: Poetics
A prophetic voice on Memorial Day
I was walking back to my car with Sharona to fetch my hoodie since the sunshine finally was obscured by the clouds and forthcoming wind. Elijah waved from across the street as he opened his trunk, grabbing a blanket. I mentioned how today I tackled this paper on form poetry that beat me down. Attempting… Continue reading A prophetic voice on Memorial Day