Saturday, April 25, 2015

April 2015

FEATURED POET: James Bertolino taught literature and creative writing for 36 years at Washington State University, Cornell University, University of Cincinnati, Western Washington University, and retired from a position as Writer-in-Residence and Chair of Creative Writing at Oregon’s Willamette University in 2006. His books have issued from publishing programs associated with Brown University, Cornell University, Princeton University and Carnegie-Mellon University, as well as Copper Canyon Press, New Rivers Press, Granite Publications, Cherry Grove Collections and World Enough Writers. His 12th volume of poetry,Ravenous Bliss: New and Selected Love Poems, was published by MoonPath Press in 2014.  He lives near Bellingham, Washington with his wife, artist and poet Anita Boyle.


VIDEO: JAMES BERTOLINO

Dishonesty

Chocolate-covered evil
with shattered almonds
waiting to inflict
sweet wounds.

==

The love song
of the mosquito
is often aborted
by a slap.

A wet red spot
many times larger than
the flying beast
achieves

something like
genius.

==

Look between your bare knees
and you might find a tiny moon,
its orbit pulled back and forth
by your knee-caps.

==

Some dishonesty
is very creative,
and should be appreciated.

          ==

Our Golden Collie

We were living across the street from
railroad tracks in Ashland, Wisconsin—
which was much larger, and many miles from
tiny Pence, Wisconsin where, when I was four
and my oldest sister nine, I unintentionally drowned
her puppy in a pond. She never forgave me.
It was the first time in my life that I was
associated with evil.

That day in Ashland I was playing outside
with our collie. We never kept her tied, or on
a leash, and when I heard tires screeching
on the road I ran around from the back of the building
and almost stepped on our dog, as she howled
and dragged herself away from the road.
I got my wagon, carefully lifted her in, and carried
her to the backyard, where I settled her into the grass
below the kitchen window of our apartment.

The lady upstairs, who was a kindergarten teacher,
had heard the car braking and seen our dog.
I soon found out she had called the police.

When the cop arrived he asked to see the dog.
He then told me she was suffering pretty bad, and
was too busted-up to survive. He said to head around
to the front, and halfway there I heard him shoot his pistol.
Without saying a word to me or anyone else,
he got back into his squad car and drove off.
When I found her dead, I held her sweet head and cried.


           I had just started second grade at a Catholic school,
and told my mother I did not want to go back.
I was sure that our beautiful collie being dead
was God’s punishment of me
           for having drowned my sister’s puppy 

            

WRITE YOUR POEM:

For Kin or King?

Poetry shares an odd quality that faces all artists.  Why do we do it? There poems written for our children. "Twas the Night before Christmas" was penned by a lawyer for his children.

Is your poetry for an audience with a soul or a commodity of ancient tradition.  Beethoven wrote symphonies and thousands of people compete to play in orchestras that play those symphonies.  Seth Godin calls these musicians victims of a well dressed sweat shop.  They play for the king.  They play for the court.  These musicians are driven by rote work and fear.  Love is mixed in their somewhere but the script is always the same.

Ancient China had its courts.  Poets in those courts were victims of a well dressed sweat shop.  So was their poetry. Praise came for those who could conform to the rules.  Invention and experimentation was left to hermits in the hills.  Admired but starving.  Who are you? 

As we practice any given craft something gnaws at the back of our soul. that we are practicing the art that reconnects us to our best selves or we are doing a math problem.  Ancient China put built poetry into their version of the SAT for a good job.  There's no clean answer.  Write your poem.  Wherever you are the world needs your work.  Write. Create.  Be the best part of your self and give it to the world.  Dance your dance. Write your poem.


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