Where does inspiration lie? Everywhere!

This is my attempt to pounce on and then shape the words I breathe.

Please join me with your comments and make this a dialogue . . . and visit Susan's Poetry!

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Hal Sirowitz



Unknown Event Picture
GREEN LINE PRESENTED: 
             Hal Sirowitz
          at the 
          Green Line Cafe
4426 Locust st.
Philadelphia, PA 19104
on Feb 19 at 7:00 PM 
  
I went and had a WONDERFUL time!
          Treat yourself to a Hal Sirowitz experience.

The poems Hal Sirowitz treated us to at his reading tickled me--really--in the way a family member can when you don't want to break and laugh but have to.  Leonard's family moments hit me like that--I recognized the situations in my funny bone and couldn't hide the groans and laughter even at such things as brown spots on underwear.  I went home from the reading and read all I could find of, by, and about him on the internet.  

I had the presence of mind before leaving the Green Line Cafe to tell Hal that he had given me the courage to step down off of the pedestal of poetry where the set ideas live about how to make it denser and denser.  He gave me trust in the day to day as subject matter for poetry.  

Thank you, Leonard Gontarek, for presenting this evening and others like it every month.

See: 
  1. Three Poems by Hal Sirowitz
  2. http://www.halsirowitz.com/
  3. Hal Sirowitz/Poetry
  4. Hand Drawn Animation (You Tube)--poems by Hal Sirowitz


See Sirowitz's amazon.com author page here.



Sunday, February 17, 2013

What is "True Vogue" ?

Chelsea Bednar blogs at  Artistic Adventures.


I am truly moved by Margaret Bedner's poem "True Vogueand her daughter's drawings posted under that title on Margaret's blog:  Art Happens 365 - My Photography & Poetry.  Here is the poem's first stanza: 

Designer trends,
make a woman
or so they say


I hope you will go to her site to see the rest.

It is a short poem, about loving our selves and our own poetic souls. The drawings make it especially vivid.  

I, too, have written about this, over and over, but in poems so raw and youthful that they need major revision before I will post them again.  Irony?  

"True Vogue" is a good lens into a never fully-answered question:  Where do we live and create without pretense?  I went through various phases in answer to this question, and when I taught in high school I tried to help my students face the issue.  I wanted them to see they had to make strategic choices. This is a hard lesson to teach and learn as a writer who believes authentic voices are more and more needed.  

When I read "True Vogue," however, I am reminded of our craft as poets.  The need to "re-envision" has occasionally more to do with creating poetry than with trying to hide a creative soul.  The spareness of this free-verse poem that moves forward through images and metaphor--what is buttoned and unbuttoned--shows true art.  The poet does not try to do everything; she does not make the poem comment on itself.  She cuts all but impressions to underline her double-sworded title.  

Vogue means  "a temporary fashion trend." What is truly vogue?  In which phase of our lives--mine and yours--will it be popular to be as naked as our hidden selves?  At which point do we begin to take the real risks that could make our art worthy of being seen and celebrated?  



Saturday, February 16, 2013

What is love?

Today's Poem-a-day:

Sometimes with One I Love
by Walt Whitman
Sometimes with one I love I fill myself with rage for
   fear I effuse unreturn'd love,
But now I think there is no unreturn'd love, the pay
   is certain one way or another,
(I loved a certain person ardently and my love was
   not return'd,
Yet out of that I have written these songs.)


I wrote a prompt on 13 February 2013 at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads that gave some variety to the traditional Valentine's Day. Some gorgeous poems reside there, including mine.  I am astonished to finally be finding so many positive images in a growing up time that I used to love to hate.  Walt Whitman expresses that, too, in his tiny poem above.  What a switch to learn that love is returned, noted, felt and moved, moving in return.