On July 17th, Kay Ryan was named Poet laureate. You can read some of her poetry at Poets.org. So, what do you think?
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/352
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What do you think of the new Poet Laureate, Kay Ryan?
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- DWill
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She's not the first woman laureate (what a cush job, by the way! What do you suppose it pays?), but I'm too lazy to look up the other(s). What do I think about her? Well, I'm insecure about clever poets. I'm afraid I tend toward poetry that is so simple that, as some poet said, your dog could understand it. That's why I'm more into the older stuff--that, and the rhymes making it easier to memorize.
DW
DW
- Saffron
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Surfaces
by Kay Ryan
Surfaces serve
their own purposes,
strive to remain
constant (all lives
want that). There is
a skin, not just on
peaches but on oceans
(note the telltale
slough of foam on beaches).
Sometimes it's loose,
as in the case
of cats: you feel how a
second life slides
under it. Sometimes it
fits. Take glass.
Sometimes it outlasts
its underside. Take reefs.
The private lives of surfaces
are innocent, not devious.
Take the one-dimensional
belief of enamel in itself,
the furious autonomy
of luster (crush a pearl
by Kay Ryan
Surfaces serve
their own purposes,
strive to remain
constant (all lives
want that). There is
a skin, not just on
peaches but on oceans
(note the telltale
slough of foam on beaches).
Sometimes it's loose,
as in the case
of cats: you feel how a
second life slides
under it. Sometimes it
fits. Take glass.
Sometimes it outlasts
its underside. Take reefs.
The private lives of surfaces
are innocent, not devious.
Take the one-dimensional
belief of enamel in itself,
the furious autonomy
of luster (crush a pearl
- DWill
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- Saffron
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Impressions while reading Surfaces
As I read through the first time, I had the image of the faces or appearances we cultivate or create to show the world and that we hide behind. The image of the cat and how loose their shin is, made me think of how some people are so good at putting forth a face that is so movable you can't quite pin down who they are or that the skin is big enough that to give them room to shape shift.
If this helps, DWill, I read her poems are a bit like riddles.
Anybody what to have a go at this to help me out?
As I read through the first time, I had the image of the faces or appearances we cultivate or create to show the world and that we hide behind. The image of the cat and how loose their shin is, made me think of how some people are so good at putting forth a face that is so movable you can't quite pin down who they are or that the skin is big enough that to give them room to shape shift.
If this helps, DWill, I read her poems are a bit like riddles.
Anybody what to have a go at this to help me out?
- LanDroid
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Everyone strives to remain constant by putting up an outer shell - some loose, others hard but brittle. Don't blame these shells for the purposes they serve. (I dunno, something like that?)
You can listen to her read a poem here, part of a free CD you can download at the 2nd link.
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19821
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19812
You can listen to her read a poem here, part of a free CD you can download at the 2nd link.
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19821
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19812
- Saffron
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I like this poem, but I'm not really sure why. Anyone interested in discussing some of Kay Ryan's poetry? DWill? You saw her read -- what did you think?
Sharks' Teeth
by Kay Ryan
Everything contains some
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it. An hour
of city holds maybe
a minute of these
remnants of a time
when silence reigned,
compact and dangerous
as a shark. Sometimes
a bit of a tail
or fin can still
be sensed in parks.
Sharks' Teeth
by Kay Ryan
Everything contains some
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it. An hour
of city holds maybe
a minute of these
remnants of a time
when silence reigned,
compact and dangerous
as a shark. Sometimes
a bit of a tail
or fin can still
be sensed in parks.
- geo
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This is a great inspirational poem by Kay Ryan.
Doubt
A chick has just so much time
to chip its way out, just so much
egg energy to apply to the weakest spot
or whatever spot it started at.
It can't afford doubt. Who can?
Doubt uses albumen
at twice the rate of work.
One backward look by any of us
can cost what it cost Orpheus.
Neither may you answer
the stranger's knock;
you know it is the Person from Porlock
who eats dreams for dinner,
his napkin stained the most delicate colors.
Doubt
A chick has just so much time
to chip its way out, just so much
egg energy to apply to the weakest spot
or whatever spot it started at.
It can't afford doubt. Who can?
Doubt uses albumen
at twice the rate of work.
One backward look by any of us
can cost what it cost Orpheus.
Neither may you answer
the stranger's knock;
you know it is the Person from Porlock
who eats dreams for dinner,
his napkin stained the most delicate colors.
-Geo
Question everything
Question everything