Month: June 2013
Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia
from there on in
the coming is rough
above all illuminations
of a doubt
on river of moonbeams
countdown of worries
to know where to begin
return to zero
* * *
even weak storms
* * *
wishes take form
* * *
* * *
of nervous mirrors
kissing first time
* * *
* * *
to shield vision
* * *
fugitive peeks rose to occasion
* * *
* * *
was turned down
as its favorite
* * *
whispers tried not to
but cut through sleep
offset any sense
of a cure
* * *
the missing did
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
neon gave signs
lessons in youth
took out for a date
* * *
* * *
* * *
waking brings mist
* * *
full winds enter
* * *
close to dingy
The Art Of Being Nobody
Carl Paul Henneman
It is not, what it is
You’ll never change what it is
If we did what it is we want/
Bet these guys would stop touching kids
This world makes you feel crazy
Like you’re the only one seeing this
There’s a homeless man down the street
He got no insurance; he’s real sick
Whistling while we walk by
Oughta/ give him a roundhouse kick
& it’s only getting colder
Even though the ice is getting thin
Live a life but are we living?
Heart atrophy & we’re all in
Bought the fear; just hoping for change
We all know something needs to flip
As the story/s getting older
I will be what I am
No one person owns
A fail-safe identity
Write on that tape
Over your mouth
Continue to laugh
Till the truth comes out
Can keep riding this bus
But it ain’t changing its route
Don’t play a part
We never were any more
Some Principles of Deep Image
as written in a letter to Robert Creeley November 14, 1960
The poem is the record of a movement from perception to vision.
Poetic form is the pattern of that movement through space and time.
The deep image is the content of vision emerging in the poem.
The vehicle of movement is imagination.
The condition of movement is freedom.
E. S. Cormac
What time is it
Clothes will be ready for dryer in 5 minutes.
Maybe 10. The sky is North Atlantic gray but the ocean isn’t here.
The sea is obscured by mountains and a 40 day walk through Sinai
Muslins are no longer vogue
hurry to the garment district wrap Iman in pajamas
no matter the time. It is near 5 in the evening to be clear
Norma Jean’s skirts are safe
There are no vents on the sidewalks, or used condoms
just stubbed out cigarettes, fast food wrappers, a tiny ziploc
The habits of Miss Moss are still in style
Inside supermarket with a vague iterations
Passing Ophelia in Wellingtons twice in the aisles
Clothes to be dried in 20 minutes
Cyrus or Montana staring out so cosmopolitan out of step
Not a semblance to her contemporaries
Babies with babies with babies
Sarahs draped in polar fleece and velours
The capacitor house is gone to China its workers
cleaned up their own mess then sat idle turning into
a museum. You would like it your friends would all be there
and it is a short drive to Olana
It is 5:45. In an hour the lighthouse atop Masada will glow
ruining ships along its escarpments
Folded clothes pass a hand painted sign
that reads DANE’S.
Why did I leave Ophelia in the willows
forever a clambering muse caught stealing glances
I will wear my rue with a difference
Frank O’ Hara wrote poems with a quiet contemplativeness absent of the loud flamboyance of Ginsburg’s beat style, or the pure confessionalism of Lowell. Lampooning Olson’s projective verse essay with his own treatise on, “Personism,” O’Hara maintains that his poems are intended to place poem, poet, and an audience of one together. That through this intimacy poetry is most pure, damn, “Propagandists for technique….and for content.”
O’Hara’s poems read true to his manifesto in technique and style. The poet’s voice is heard in the stanzas, lightly commenting on the contemporary world around him. At times they are quietly confessional without the usual heaviness. They also contain some of the modernist technique for vague references to high art and literature, without becoming epically bogged down. O’ Hara is able to balance low and high art.
His, “I did this then I did that”, cadence like the confessionalist, and the beats is something that has been imitated since his death. O’ Hara’s death by dune buggy cut short a life of poet.
E.S. McCormick studied graphic design at Sage College in his hometown, Albany, New York. In 2006, he joined the military and has deployed three times, once to the Mexican border along southern Arizona, and twice to Afghanistan. He draws his short stories from experiences while serving in Afghanistan and the realities of coming home from conflict. More than personal memoir he strives to add a voice to the lives of those that experienced the conflict, both soldiers and Afghans alike. After returning from a yearlong tour in Southern Afghanistan during 2008-2009, He decided to pursue journalism and studied at Hudson Valley Community College in Troy, New York, and Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts in North Adams MA. In 2009, he received an award for excellence in academic research from Hudson Valley. E.S. McCormick currently lives in the Northern Berkshires of Massachusetts.
from Of isolated limning
Felino A. Soriano
when engaging isolates the motive
certainty underwhelms, fatigues the
tongued notions of wind’s awkward
patterned concentration, this
figurative variant suspends
as the supposed objective of
judgment amid conversational
playgrounds, serrated freedom
involves needed movement to
incorporate aspectual melodies
soothing and confirming touch as
vocal to the local position of hand onto
mode of subjective connectivity
solid (silver as direction)
the philosophy of shape s
volume and accordion-smooth
a finger’s vocal
howl and predicated
sway and tone of the body’s continuous
varied these rhythms these rhythmic devices
donning time and the sheer clothing of a moment’s
—rain on arid discovery of the memory this honor portends
mirrors, the ref
isolated moving external
though too, amid
carving care from the stone-belly cold
of dispositional cool
such then returning equates dual
ignitions to burgeon or halt or
either examines the need’s rendition
to accelerate gist
Felino A. Soriano’s most recent poetry collections include Extolment in the praising exhalation of jazz (Kind of a Hurricane Press, 2013), the collaborative volume with poet, Heller Levinson and visual artist, Linda Lynch, Hinge Trio (La Alameda Press, 2012) and rhythm:s (Fowlpox Press, 2012). He publishes the online endeavors Counterexample Poetics and Differentia Press. His work finds foundation in philosophical studies and connection to various idioms of jazz music. He lives in California with his wife and family and is the director of supported living and independent living programs providing supports to adults with developmental disabilities. For further information, please visit www.felinoasoriano.info.
Aesthetics of Immersion Poetry
Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia
Literature is created through the usage of three devices – style, sentiment, substance. Of these the device which separates prose from poetry is style. Style is the single most important aspect of poetry. Whether coming in the guise of paragraphs or in broken lines, style must be of the utmost concern to the poet. Tone, meter, imagery must push the form into being, from there sentiment is established via metaphor. A single image running through the three lines of a senryu or 21 syllables of landay can be in itself a notion of so much more than what is easily read. This is what pushes poetry into distinction from prose.
The next important aspect of style is a question of story. There may be some innate desire among some to feel the need to tell something and thus the narrative. This is understood. This is where style again must come through. Here is where style disrupts, shatters or perhaps illumines story in a way unlike prose.
The poem is not a short story in broken lines. The poem is a poem. Poetry is the art of another way. It is the art of different approach and perspective. And perspective should be of serious thought to the poet. Forget reliable and omniscient narrators. Think of voice and participants and the act of being. Understand time/space. Let style adjust understanding. As sentiment is established throughout the course of the poem, those events/ideas will create a sense of lyricism. And form must comfort that. Form has the responsibility of carrying sentiment. Caring for sentiment.
Words (and their counter – space – and their complement – punctuation) need to be carefully chosen. Substance –the actual words, punctuation, and space are there also to convey sentiment in le mot juste. even if it means forcing words to work in an unusual way. Noun, verb, adjective are subject to change in poetry. All can act. All can be acted upon. All add image. All are image. And image is everything.
The image is the poem.
A good story makes one read on. A great poem makes one stop. This stop is to let the mind fill in the image. Or fulfill the image. Or to let the metaphor be carried to its end on the other side of the poem’s conversation.
As all poetry is correspondence. Exchange is the work of the poem via the combination of style, sentiment, substance. Poetry talks to/answers to memory. In such, Proust is poetic at its best. But it is his style which disturbs his poetry. Though he breaks story, time, hero, and creates a sense of perspective as none else other than Beckett (who obviously comes out of his shadow), he lacks a certain style in tone and meter. And space. He does not allow for the gap, the space, the time to examine – to fulfill the image. Poetry enjoys its spasms and its sense of specific sparsity regardless of overall length.
To get into the technicalities of esthetics in poetic style, a poem must if not carry then deliver a sentiment via its conversation. The poem should feel interactive. The poem should have something to say. Nonsense is an aspect. It is not a totality of the poem. If absurdity is to be used, it must serve a purpose. (And there is a purpose to Dada and language poems. There’s something to be said about questioning grammar itself. And there’s something to removing communication from language which was created just for the purpose of communicating. And of course, one should always challenge prescriptive linguistics.)
The poem after this, while maintaining/creating a style, must enter a reader into difference. It must slow the reader into thought. Into questions. Into pause. Poetry’s closest cousin may not be song but comedy which understands pause and not explaining itself. After this is the comic book which allows each frame to act as a part of the context/text or to be its own individual pictorial representative of an else. And oh, how the rules are meaningless in comics. Anything can happen – see Arkham Asylum’s up and down versus left to right reading. Let stanzas/movements be the rooms they are – filled with their own furniture.
The stanza is not nutmeg to complement the cream of a béchamel. The stanza is root vegetable after root vegetable to create the stew within the overall broth of white space.
Some well chosen (well, all well-chosen) substance is the nutmeg and perhaps a freshly ground pepper and a secret ingredient or specialty perhaps. Le mot juste is the mustard or thyme no non-saucier saw coming.
Through the careful interworking of style, sentiment and substance comes the poem. The poem is work with language not play. Words work. And words employ. Words are at play as an athlete is at play knowing this game is a means by which a certain contract will come. Language is the medium of all literature. The poem must put this language to its use or give it a new job.
At the same time, poetry is a product and requires producers and raw material.
To conclude, image is the blood of the poem. Image immersed in the words. Immersion poetry. Beyond expression, concept, process and out of focus/without focus should be the images running through. Through shattered narrative, through spastic, through sparse, through conceptual – the image. More to the point, the idea of the image. The trigger to thought. First the spark (of consciousness) in writer’s mind then spark in reader’s mind. Poetry of unwriting – leaving space for completion elsewhere.
To read is to perceive.
To write is to convey realthought where realspeak was unable to.
Kenyatta Jean-Paul Garcia is the author of This Sentimental Education and Enter the After-Garde along with two other collections of poetry. He was raised in Brooklyn, NY and has a degree in Linguistics. He has studied several living and dead languages in addition to philosophy and poetry at SUNY Albany and Hudson Valley Community College. He spent over ten years working in restaurants – cooking, washing dishes, etc. Currently, he works overnights putting boxes on shelves. By day, he runs kjpgarcia.wordpress.