Tonight, Let's Get Drunk on Poetry

Straight cranberry juice on the rocks is usually my preferred Saturday night libation, but tonight, maybe I'll get "drunk" on poetry, instead :)

Hope you had a fab weekend!!

Be Drunk
BY Charles Baudelaire

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it—it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.
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But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

Introduction to Poetry

We all need a refresher course every now and then :) enjoy!

BY Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Billy Collins, “Introduction to Poetry” from The Apple that Astonished Paris. Copyright 1988, 1996 by Billy Collins.

I am a writer! Eat my Verbal dust!

Even I have to fight to surpress my inner literary elitist from time to time. It's not that I'm the most amazing poet ever or that I truly think I am. It's just that I sometimes get caught up in my own wit and literary magnitude...shouting, “I am a writer! Eat my Verbal dust!”

haha!

Enjoy Taylor Mali's hilarious poem about poets.

:)

I Could Be a Poet
BY Taylor Mali

I think I could be a poet because I like to wear a lot of black.
And I can think of incongruous images like a Marxist with a trust fund.
A Porsche pulling a U-Haul, a lobsterman in Birkenstocks sipping a cappuccino,
with his pinkie pointing toward the sky.
I have studied the poets who sing song out their lines
for no other reason than that’s how it’s done,
in love with the sound of their own voices,

The Greatest Find of the Week!

Ah Google. Its a wonder what typing in "famous" "poet" "sudan" can get you. After trying, without success, to generically search for famous African poets, I got smart(er) and decided to begin searching individual countries. What I found, ladies and gents, was the greatest poetry find of the week!! Allow me to introduce ****DRUM ROLL*** Sudanese poet Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi. Haven't heard of him...? Slackers! JK. I hadn't heard of him before today, when i stumbled upon a Guardian article featuring him, but now I'm hooked.

According to the article -
"Al-Raddi has been publishing poetry since he was 15, when his poem The Wind was published in the literary journal Al-Sahwa. Born in 1969, he grew up in Omdurman, Khartoum, where he still lives. According to Ismail his "exceptional talent" was recognized in his early days at school, and he even owes the name Al-Raddi to the famous Arabic poet Ali-Shreif Al-Raddi."

Since these early days, Al-Raddi has published four collections of poetry and has been published in numerous literary magazines. He was also chosen among only a handful of poets to perform at the first World Poets' Tour in 2005 and the second, in 2008. In addition to his poetry-related accolades, Al-Raddi is also the cultural editor of Al-Sudani newspaper in Sudan.

Needless to say, he's a rocking poet and quite worthy of his place as the Sixth Poet in our African Poets Week.

I am a huge fan of poems that write about poetry, so I just had to post the beautiful piece below. If you're hungry for more, though, check out Al-Raddi's profile on PoetryTranslation.org

Dream
BY Al-Saddiq Al-Raddi

Poetry - may you be a green body.
May you be a language
in which I wander
with my wings and my self.
Be the inspiration of my tongue,
so that I may pasture
the tribes of my voice - though they are silent.

Sleepless
and alone, I see
you will not be
a green body.
You were neither
a good master, to be bought,
nor the muse.
My longed for delirium, my memory.

Quote of the WEEK,

There is a great deal of poetry and fine sentiment in a chest of tea.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Letters and Social Aims

Text for Taylor

For those of you who prefer reading over listening, here's the text of yesterday's Taylor Mail piece. Literally, there are too many gems in here! Read carefully and enjoy!

:-)

How to Write a Political Poem
BY Taylor Mali

However it begins, it's gotta be loud
and then it's gotta get a little bit louder.
Because this is how you write a political poem
and how you deliver it with power.

Mix current events with platitudes of empowerment.
Wrap up in rhyme or rhyme it up in rap until it sounds true.

Glare until it sinks in.

Because somewhere in Florida, votes are still being counted.
I said somewhere in Florida, votes are still being counted!

See, that's the Hook, and you gotta' have a Hook.
More than the look, it's the hook that is the most important part.
The hook has to hit and the hook's gotta fit.
Hook's gotta hit hard in the heart.

Because somewhere in Florida, votes are still being counted.

And Dick Cheney is peeing all over himself in spasmodic delight.
Make fun of politicians, it's easy, especially with Republicans
like Rudy Giuliani, Colin Powell, and . . . Al Gore.
Create fatuous juxtapositions of personalities and political philosophies
as if communism were the opposite of democracy,
as if we needed Darth Vader, not Ralph Nader.

More

How to Write a Political Poem - Oldie But Goodie

Taylor Mali has so many great poems, but this is my absolute favorite.

It's one of those "funny because it's true" pieces that truthfully and comedically tells it like it really is. It seems like there's almost an un-spoken formula on how to write and speak a political poem that performance poets learn at birth. I know that I've committed my fair share of the things he describes in this piece...especially the last bit. Ouch! Guilty as charged:-)

Because all you have to do to end a political poem is
close your eyes,
lower your voice, and end by saying:

the same line three times,
the same line three times,
the same line three times.

hilarity!!

You're Not a Real Poet...Are You?

There is a local poetry night that I absolutely love going to. It's inspiring to be around so many artistic and creative minds all at once. Sometimes, I even feel inspired to read some of my own work. A few weeks ago, after I had read a few new pieces, a young lady came up to me and said, "I really like your style. You're not a real performer. You're a poet." Her words struck me in the oddest way as I tried to determine if it was a disguised insult or a genuine compliment. I opted for the latter and smiled.

But, it got me thinking...what does it mean to be a "performance poet?" And what would our poetry greats think of all this? What would Langston Hughes think of the slam culture? What would Shakespeare or Robert Frost or E. E. Cummings think of the spoken word movement? These folks were poets in the most honorable and pure form. Yes, they sometimes read their work aloud, but their words stood alone on the page, unembellished by stage or intonation (except maybe Shakespeare and his plays). They focused on sentence structure and punctuation. They released anthologies and poetry books instead of performance cds, because they let the reader take from their words what they wanted.

This is not to bash performance poets. In fact, I love seeing people totally light the stage on fire with their words. I envy them for their skill and courage. But, for those of us who "only speak because the written word has all but gone out of style," it's an honor to be counted in the group of writers who wrote words that were fit to read - not just fit to speak.

Long story short, this inspired a poem about poetry...

Enjoy:-)

A Difference in Style
BY Susan Baba

I am not a spoken word artist
I am a poet
My words do not sit on display like plastic fruit
They are meant to be ingested
To roll around in your mouth until you’ve sucked all of the juice from them
To make you feel something in your stomach
Sometimes unsettling
But something
To shake through you
To rumble through you
until they're done

My words come to you naked
Peering from behind the ripped out pages
and scribbled out lines of my poetry notebook
With nothing to clothe them at all

I am not a spoken word artist
I am a poet
I am of the tribe of soothsayers
A dying line of women who can read a single book more than once
whose bookshelves and libraries are filled with
underlines
and highlighter marks
and smiley faces
beside words that have moved them
The weird chick who dares to laugh
or tear up
as she turns the pages of a well worn book
Only to watch the words she once fell in love with
unfold before her again

I am not a spoken word artist
I only speak because the written word has all but gone out of style
because you can only hear me if my words sound like hip-hop
or have a rhythm that makes you want to tap your feet
You can only feel me when the drama of my delivery
catches you by surprise
and snatches the chair right from under you
But I am not a spoken word artist
I stand before you
with nothing to guard my words but this small page

Write a Poem About Monsters

Just stumbled upon Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz's hilarious poem about what she does when poetic inspiration comes at inopportune times. She emails notes to herself...which don't always make sense in the morning.

Enjoy:-)

Write a Poem About Monsters
BY Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

and this midnight note
"poem about monsters"
was written in the hope
that when morning broke across my desk
and coffee shook the rumpled bed of my brain,
I would find something profound in this obsession
but instead, I just found more nothing
another ghost of a poem
to throw into the grave with "neck-face"
another pen I swore I could move with only my brain
but couldn't

POETRY > War

So, I've been reading a lot about the mass rapes that happened in Guinea during last month's military crack down. Hundreds of women, peacefully protesting for democracy were ambushed and raped by military officers...in broad daylight!! I know...madness!! It made my soul hurt and more or less broke my tiny little heart into pieces all week. But, it also inspired me to search around the net for some good news.



AND, I FOUND some!! Poets Against The War. There's more than a bit of politicin' on here, so be forewarned...but it's an amazing celebration of self-expression in the face of war. The organization's mission is simple -

to continue the tradition of socially engaged poetry by creating venues for poetry as a voice against war, tyranny and oppression.

There is something so empowering and liberating about art:-) I was even inspired to write a bit myself.

Poetry > War
BY Susan Baba

She will never kill
for justice
and you cannot make her.
She will fight with all her might for you to see that we are all precious
from the smallest to the greatest among us
we all have worth.
She will fight
with words,
attack you when you are not looking
with the bullet of self-expression.
She will read and write and create and love until the wall breaks
and there's a crack big enough
for hope to slip through.
That is what a poet can do.

::love::peace::justice