Meeting Jan. 4th, 2010

Welcome to those who came to the inaugural meeting this January 4th! There were a few questions left unanswered from our discussion and I hope to address them briefly.

First off, the infamous and perhaps shortest poem in our modern canon was written by none other than Aram Saroyan:

lighght

-Aram Saroyan

This supplementary article has some lengthy commentary that unpacks the controversy and meaning that is packed in Saroyan’s seven letter poem: You Call That Poetry?

Enjoy these exquisite minimalist poems by the poet:

FEAR

My shoes are under the table.

*

WONDERFUL

The telephone just rang.

*

LOVE

Today is Thursday.

***

Note! The asterisks were added to denote a new poem. Read more of his work in: (A More Truly Complete) Minimal Poem

Concerning PURPOSE (in almighty capitals) in poetry, perhaps a combination of both insight and pleasure is most delightful. As Sir Phillip Sidney would say that poetry is “a speaking picture with this end, to teach and delight.”

*(((((((Here is a ‘purpose’ driven poem by Amiri Baraka))))))*

Political Poem
by Amiri Baraka

(for Basil)

Luxury, then, is a way of
being ignorant, comfortably
An approach to the open market
of least information. Where theories
can thrive, under heavy tarpaulins
without being cracked by ideas.

(I have not seen the earth for years
and think now possibly “dirt” is
negative, positive, but clearly
social. I cannot plant a seed, cannot
recognize the root with clearer dent
than indifference. Though I eat
and shit as a natural man ( Getting up
from the desk to secure a turkey sandwich
and answer the phone: the poem undone
undone by my station, by my station,
and the bad words of Newark.) Raised up
to the breech, we seek to fill for this
crumbling century. The darkness of love,
in whose sweating memory all error is forced.

Undone by the logic of any specific death. (Old gentlemen
who still follow fires, tho are quieter
and less punctual. It is a polite truth
we are left with. Who are you? What are you
saying? Something to be dealt with, as easily.
The noxious game of reason, saying, “No, No,
you cannot feel,” like my dead lecturer
lamenting thru gipsies his fast suicide.

———————-

As to Ezra Pound, Poets.org has a brief and concise introduction.

————–(((Listen to Ezra Pound reading his own work)))——————-
(((and a brief explication)))

Explication Com A Usura

Please post any additional poetry for discussion.
Write on!

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