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:: Saturday, March 23, 2002 ::
Hot dog poems. Are there any other kind?:: Wednesday, March 20, 2002 ::
Shit! Another damn poem about Hot Dogs.:: Saturday, March 16, 2002 ::
In the interest of the regular rotation, here's the latest (carousel, pastoral, each glish, and church italicized). Needs cutting? More than likely. Thanks guys.:: Thursday, March 14, 2002 ::
Yeah, Paul, it was no big deal, and man the rush when I looked up at the clock last night. I was at work in the Writing Center and had just had a cancellation, so it worked perfectly; I locked myself in a room with a mac and set to work. I was reading to myself madly and tapping the ol' desk with my fingers for the count. Really fun, and yes, this is very good for us. I don't see the harm in one a week or so. And Jesus, boys, from the looks of these poems we need to get on more dates!
You boys is the shit. Now, about the heads up. I just went ahead and did the thing with the assumption that if you guys didn't have time to say yay or nay or didn't find out about the assignment until it was too late you wouldn't do it (along with the added assumption that it was no big deal, this being an exercise, if one, two, all, or none of us did it). In any case, I like doing these things, and I'm glad we're back on the case. As Josh said earlier, this is a big help for me, the blog in general, and spontaneous poems like this are kind of liberating, like sleeping in the buff after a lifetime of pajamas. And now I must steal from your lines.:: Wednesday, March 13, 2002 ::
Paul, it seems I chose the same first line and to end my poem with a question also, and also to seek Jesus' help, though I didn't get any. That's so like Jesus. When do I say how much I like you fellows' poems anyway? (Sorry, Sean, your poem sneaked in there and I didn't see it)
Mark the Memory Down
Stanzas for the Doppleganger (Jesus, help, please ((that’s not part of the title)))
Sorry, that third possible opening line should read "I can't get this diesel off my hands." Of course I would miss a word when the sentence it's in must be nine syllables. Doh!:: Tuesday, March 12, 2002 ::
Paul: I'm on it. Six o'clock tomorrow, yeah?
Yeah, sorry. I guess that sounded a little like we should do both. Basically I was just throwing out ideas, taking initiative, trying to motivate my own lazy ass. I'll go ahead and post the non-rondel exercise tonight if that's ok with you guys, Sean and Rob (which it seems). Kekko desu ka?:: Monday, March 11, 2002 ::
Sonnet exercise, regular or -ir rotation, it all sounds excellent. The sonnet exercise sounds good, but the logistics, yes, fuck. Unless somebody esle wants to, I can come up with the assignment (which may or may not be a sonnet--good, no?) and post it by Tuesday at 6:00 pm so we can all have our little themes ready by Wed. same time. Whatcha think?
I'm up for the sonnet exercise if everyone else is. Who's up on the regular rotation anyway? Josh?:: Friday, March 08, 2002 ::
On second thought, re: Nolan: or are his press people just now hoping to spin it so that it sounds like this is what Nolan wanted all along?
Sean, and this has nothing to do with poetry of course, but don't you think Nolan wanted to be fired, to get out of the contract or whatever? Like, he was asking for it, specifically? Like, Nolan thinks his shit through? Either way, of course, tough to lose him.:: Thursday, March 07, 2002 ::
You mean what does "Nolan" mean? He was the coach of the Razorback Bball team and was fired for being sassy. I liked him; thus, I'm sad. Tell me what you all would think about an exercise--say, write a sonnet or something in 24 hours; then we could all see the results. I wouldn't want to do it if it wasn't fun, but I was thinking about those song-writing competitions where Hank Williams or someone would write a song in 20 minutes. I thought it might be a nice break from putting quality stuff (I should say that the song I'm thinking of was that Jambalaya song which is um . . . good http://www.guitaretab.com/gtab/t/20923) out there and would allow us some fun. We could let one of us come up with the assignment to be posted by noon on Friday and have to post our poem by noon on Saturday, or better yet, I think, 2:00 on Friday. Just pick a time when we're all there at the keyboards. Less time the better. Also, have you all heard anything about our president waving at Stevie Wonder during the White House gala? He got no response and slowly lowered his arm. A friend said he'd seen it in the Washington Post, and I thought it would brighten your days. Oh, I just published a couple of Ronsard poems at thedrunkenboat.com. They'll be out in the spring issue. My first translations to hit the presses! Any other pub news? or is that tacky?:: Tuesday, March 05, 2002 ::
Don't worry about it, Sean. Teach your ass off, get over Nolan, and explain to me what that means when you get back.
Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's 5:21 in the AM, and I'm on my way to Bayou Meto to teach kids how to be poor and fairly high-strung. I'm very sorry that I didn't get to comment yet. I tried a couple of these once, and boy . . . I've been too upset about Nolan to write you guys, but I think I'll be better when I get back. Talk to you later. Just kidding about Nolan.:: Monday, March 04, 2002 ::
Paul, thanks for the thanks. By the by, did they eject Coach Chapman, or what?:: Sunday, March 03, 2002 ::
Wow. If I were a girl, my panties would be very loose right now. I had reservasations about that poem, mostly because of the reasons we've all mentioned about villanelling. But I do appreciate the remarks. Luckily, I was worried about at least some of the things you guys brought up, so it's nice to have a little confirmation. I agree (like this matters), Josh: the title bothers me, too. In some ways I felt like Jim Whitehead's version of Keats writing "Ode on a Grecian Urn" (sorry Josh, guess this won't be as direct an objective correlative for you): "Beauty is truth, truth beauty........all ye need to know. (Keats brushes pen and paper away.) Now give me another beer." "But John, what does it mean?" "Fuck if I know.":: Friday, March 01, 2002 ::
Yeah, hell, well I tried to write one of these once, and I couldn't get past the second stanza, and ever since, when I refer to that poem, which is rarely, I refer to it as the Haunted Villanelle, as in I bet you can't spend twenty-four hours in it. So well done getting it done, and well done poem in its entirety, Paul. What I'm finding troublesome here, is that it may be even harder for me to critique a villanelle than for me write one. Best lines, all the ones that Rob mentioned (hateful to hear that said, I know) with this one addition, which is the line I love the best and one that since I've read the poem, most sticks in my head: "I shouldn't have to say you shouldn't weep." Incredible compression and emotion there, and for me (though Rob may have something on the tone of "weep," though I didn't think of it until he mentioned it, but I think that maybe the trouble tone-wise begins and ends with heap, and heap makes some trouble for the following eeps, such as the aforementioned weep, which I don't mind, also aforementioned) but for me, along with the opening line and all its permutations (now I'm plagiarizing) that's the finest moment in a poem of fine moments, dextrous enjambment and some groovy metamorphoses (take that, "permutation"!) on the return lines. Do I dare, after saying all of this, offer criticism? I don't know that I do. Every time I think of suggesting something, it ends up breaking up the form or the tone, so I'll be pussy and say: about the title: I think the He/She and Told Him forces me to ask questions about voice, and who's who, and she told him what now, which the poem doesn't particularly answer. And the poem doesn't need to answer them at all, really, it's just that the title sets up a couple of expectations, a couple of specific things, and villanelles kind of aren't built to contain that brand of specific. Usually villanelles to work have to be carefully broad, rhetorical, general, bordering on vague (I learn by going where it is that I must go) and the title makes me want to know who's who, what they said, what's the deal with them, specifically, which is tough to pull off in a villanelle I think (again, your villanelle works, it's the title I'm talking about). So add that to Rob's thoughts on the title, and one more thing about this poem, and then I'll shut up and congratulate you: strange, to me, that you've written what amounts to a narrative villanelle (there are clear narrative elements throughout, a storyline) instead of the typically lyric-concentrated one (lyric elements of course throughout as well, but you know what I mean). I can't think of another narrative villanelle, though I'm sure there are some. So, again, not only have you given us a fine example of a tough form, but also a strange breed of said tough form, and that's double-trouble. So nicely done. I'm waiting patiently on the pantoum and the double sestina.