reflection: spare crop / fleet mind
The written poem has disappeared. It can now be found at Frame of Reference.
An audio version can be found below along with a link to Chris’ website.
copyright 2011 chris fillebrown
all rights reserved
To read more work by Chris Fillebrown, click HERE.
Vous pouvez lire ce poésie en français ICI. Écoutez une lecture ci-dessous.
The written version of this poem is available in French at the above link. An audio version of the English translation is available below:
To read more work by GMC in French and English, click HERE.
To find GMC on this blog click HERE.
In the previous post I wrote about the friable nature of digital media; but, often analogue media does not fare much better. Humans are not gentle beasts and the destruction, intentional or unintentional, of libraries, archives and museums is old as Alexandria and recent as Iraq (2003), Weimar (2004), and Egypt (2011).
Some of them do make it; but, is trying to give words wings, making a poetic gesture – like Occupy Wall Street or the Arab Spring – an endeavour that will be obscured in apathy and confusion, or flower into something enduring? Is writing worth it when the world is already full of really good poetry that not many bother to read anyway? Poetry, what for?
In answer I offer a quote from the poet Andrea Scarpino, featured in a recent issue of Blood Orange Review:
“There are millions of reasons not to write: earning an income, a beautiful fall day, that greasy brunch spot. What keeps me moving forward is a commitment to my own voice, my own stories, to sharing with others. A commitment to telling stories that I think need to be told. A commitment to sound and light and the ways in which language shapes our understanding of the world, the things that language can teach us about ourselves. And also, a rebelliousness. A friend once told me, ‘No one will make it easy for you to write.’ So sometimes, I sit down at my desk just to prove that I can. Because committing to my own writing can be such an act of rebellion, of going against the grain, of proving that no matter what the world thinks I should value, I value this.” – Andrea Scarpino
It is this gesture towards real communication, offered in the midst of the flash-flood of information that our culture deluges us with every morning as soon as we open our eyes, that is being offered by the poets who will be presented over the next 29 days. An arbitrary flower in the midst of chaos for you, the reader.
Take it.
As I mentioned in the previous post, poetry serves as a bridge across time and culture, carrying the author’s ‘voice’ across generations and places but what about the gesture, the language of the body? Will the YouTube video that I posted, or all of those digital photos carefully placed in albums on my hard drive, and on Face Book, last as long as an inscription on a clay tablet? As you read this sentence and I write it we both know that the answer is already, emphatically no. Yet, gesture does seem to have a life of its own…
When my daughter was tiny I noticed that her hands made shapes that I recognized from images of both Byzantine and Hindu art; I called them ‘baby mudras’. Where did these miniature, elegant gestures come from?
Those tiny conical fingers, with their slender tips and chubby bases that, for my husband and I, recalled 10 little Campari Soda bottles, eventually grew longer and more slender. One day, having eaten some toast at the kitchen table, my then two year old began sweeping crumbs along the yellow Formica surface and into the open face of her cupped palm. I recognized the gesture immediately as my mothers and only later caught my own hands in the act. So, from where had my mother received this gesture and just how old was it?
Although it is impossible to know either the source of the ‘baby mudra’ or the genealogy of that peculiar arc of the fingers as they sweep up crumbs, the questions scratched at that vague itch for meaning that seems so basic to being human.
Gestures that gives words wings, gestures that give wings to what cannot be said with words – evoking only questions; then there are the gestures that are meant to express something but somehow end up clanking emptily. Futile, hollow gestures…
“Written words, from the days of Sumerian tablets, were meant to be pronounced out loud, since the signs carried implicit, as if it were their soul, a particular sound. The classic phrase scripta manet, verba volat –– which has come to mean, in our time, ‘what is written remains, what is spoken vanishes into air’ –– used to express the exact opposite; it was coined in praise of the word said out loud, which has wings and can fly…”
Alberto Manguel from
A History of Reading
When IPM-2MXI closed last year I was thinking, as I often do, about how poetry serves as a bridge across time and culture. I was thinking back to poetry readings that I had done and that I had attended. I have vivid memories of a writers workshop sponsored by my high school where, among others, Max Apple, Frank H. Schaefer, and Tim Seibles came to read their work and talk about writing with interested students. We were lucky.
Funny thing is, what has stuck with me for thirty-odd years, is less what they had to say about writing (sorry guys) but their physical presence, the sound of their voices: how their bodies bore their words. Gesture: Max Apple, his narrow shoulders folded in, glanced up at the auditorium of expectant students and smiled before looking down at the podium and reading from The Oranging of America and Zip along with a poem about wanting visitation rights with his ex-wife’s breasts. His nasal, northern voice held back half of a laugh. Frank Schaefer, whose laconic, matter-of-fact tone somehow matched the arch of his bushy eyebrows and the way his arms swung from his shoulders, read from The Ghosts of Elkhorn and spoke to us about ballads and the art of story-telling. Tim Seibles, whose deep, impassioned voice matched the sweep of his arms, gave his words wings as he read Double Dutch, The Leap, and Big Mouth from his first book that was then yet to be published: Body Moves.
Years later I found that slender volume of Tim Seibles poetry in a bookshop and recognized his photo on the back cover. Inside the book were the poems he’d read, lots that he hadn’t, and the sound of his voice double-exposed over the written words. That book found it’s way into my apartment here in Northern Italy and makes part of the inspiration for this year’s theme. But of course there’s more…
INTERNATIONAL POETRY MONTH 2012 IS NOW OPEN FOR SUBMISSIONS from now until 31 January 2012. KEEP READING BELOW FOR THIS YEAR’S THEME AND HOW TO SUBMIT:
Vedi sotto per le linee guida per la presentazione in italiano (tutto in verde)
Voir ci-dessous pour les directives de soumission en français (toute en blu)
The theme for IPM 2012 will be The Gesture:
political gestures, gestures of affection, heriditary gestures, cultural gestures, empty gestures’
corporeal gestures (body language), and gestures towards communication (the gesture of writing, translation and reading).
Send submissions in any language (no more than 3 poems of any length) to:
bmcclellan.lapoeta@gmail.com
You will receive a receipt confirmation and a response within one week of your submission.
Poems will be published during February of 2012. For poems in other languages an English translation is welcome but not obligatory.
INTERNAZIONALE MESE DELLA POESIA 2012 è ora aperto per contributi provenienti da ora fino al 31 gennaio 2012. Continua a leggere sotto per il tema di quest’anno e come inviare la vostra poesia:
Il tema di IPM 2012 sarà il Gesto:
gesti politici, i gesti di affetto, gesti ereditari, culturali gesti, gesti vuoti,
gesti corporei (linguaggio del corpo), e gesti verso la comunicazione (il gesto della scrittura, traduzione e lettura).
Inviare la poesia proposta (non più di 3 opere di qualsiasi lunghezza) al redazione a:
bmcclellan.lapoeta@gmail.com
Riceverete una conferma di ricevuto e una risposta entro una settimana dalla vostra presentazione.
Le opere saranno pubblicate nel mese di febbraio (2012) come l’anno scorso, ma voglio avere la poesia in gennaio se possibile (in qualsiasi lingua – traduzione in inglese gradito ma non obbligatorio).
FRANÇAIS
INTERNATIONAL Mois de la poésie 2012 est maintenant ouvert pour les soumissions à partir de maintenant jusqu’au 31 Janvier 2012. Continuer la lecture ci-dessous pour le thème de cette année et la façon de présenter votre poème:
Le thème de l’IPM 2012 sera le geste:
gestes politiques, des gestes d’affection, de gestes héréditaires, les gestes culturels, les gestes vides,
gestes du corps (langage corporel), et des gestes vers la communication (le geste de l’écriture, la traduction et la lecture).
Envoyer une proposition de poésie (pas plus de 3 œuvres de n’importe quelle longueur) à la rédaction:
bmcclellan.lapoeta @ gmail.com
Vous recevrez une confirmation et reçu une réponse dans une semaine après votre présentation.
Les œuvres seront publiés en Février (2012) que l’année dernière,
mais je veux avoir la poésie en Janvier si possible (dans n’importe quelle langue – traduction anglaise bienvenue mais pas obligatoire).
“We’re all trying: poets to give you, the reader, the gift of an image that cannot be offered in any better way, that cracks you a bit and frees something; you, readers, are giving us the gift of your searching, your curiosity, your attention…”
Now what?
International Poetry Month 2011 is closed. The marauding hordes have left the library ablaze, the flood has washed away the ashes, the caravan carrying the last copy of the precious poetry collection has vanished in the desert; at least that’s what it feels like to me as I hit the delete key and erase the written versions of the poems.
What remains is the oral tradition; I have made audio files of each poem available where the poem used to be posted. Anyone who is on my e-mail list has a ‘fragment’ of each work. Perhaps, like the poems of Sappho, this is all that will remain.
I would like to extend my profound thanks to the following guest poets for their contributions:
Michelle Lee Houghton
Liliane Richman
Jere Schaefer
Octavio Solis
Some of these poets have blogs or websites where intriguing writing and images may be encountered. I encourage anyone suffering from poetry withdrawal to visit these sites by clicking on any of the names that appear in bold. Others are tantalizingly unavailable, if you want to see more of their work you’ll have to hope that they come back next year. Of course my work that is or has been posted throughout the rest of the year is still here.
Thanks as well to everyone who has stopped by to read and comment on the poems either here or at podbean*. It has been a real joy to present so much fine poetry again this year. Now I have to start thinking about next year and get back to writing.
A presto!
*podbean ate my audio! All mp3’s can now be found posted with the poem.
Bonnie McClellan-Broussard 