Thursday, April 03, 2008

~ lyrically longing ~

"It's not really poetry but it's pretty," he said...
~ Lisa Loeb, Furious Rose

I seldom breach the hedge between poetry and prose on this blog, but in 2007 poems kept popping up above the shrubs. I suppose it was an experiment for my soul, one that I will continue to dabble in this month. We'll start with a retrospective:

holding on
come again

Other People's:
robert frost ...and friends
shel silverstein

(thank you, once again, to for unintentionally providing graphic accompaniment to a poetry post)


Amber said...

Have you ever read Franz Wright? You've got to! He's actually James Wright's son, and he won the Pulitzer a few years ago. Super good.

Amber said...

I breathed his second-hand smoke in his backyard for an evening two minutes after he got the Pulitzer call. I promise he would read a poem in workshop, his backyard, a dinner party, or a bar and start to cry. He loved the art so much. He always told me to only write because you have to - because you love it. I didn't love it then, and I do now. It's funny. He was one of my last professors.

Angela said...

you know franz wright! glory, that man writes like a dream. i read him outside beside a campfire under a cottonwood at night for three weeks straight.

Amber said...

I'm a little embarrassed that I bragged. I'm not in contact with him anymore, but it was so good to sit under his and other's mentorship for a time.

You know someone that I love so much I could just die? Beth Ann Fennelly - my very favorite! I've only met her a few times - though she did graduate from here, and every time I'm around her, I'm an idiot. Please read her if you haven't.

Kimberly said...

my blog friends are the coolest... convos with Franz Wright, pics with Yann Martel... *sigh*