Summer Reading

Today we celebrate the summer solstice here in the Northern Hemisphere—

the longest day of the year and the shortest night—
a good time to discover or revisit Shakespeare's
A Midsummer Night's Dream
(which you can read online by clicking on the title above).

I thought today would also be a good time to share some of my favorite recently-published poetry books by way of  recommendation for your summer reading.

Before I list the books, and I know I promised myself that this wouldn't be an "about me" poetry blog, I'm breaking my own rule because I'm so happy and honored to share that my book A Lightness, A Thirst, or Nothing At All is a 2016 Paterson Poetry Prize finalist (for books published in 2015). 

   

  
Mark Doty's book Deep Lane is the winner and here are the finalists:

• Reginald Dwayne Betts, Bastards of the Reagan Era (Four Way Books, New York, NY) 
• Tony Hoagland, Application for Release from the Dream (Graywolf Press, Minneapolis, MN

• Patricia Spears Jones, A Lucent Fire: New & Selected Poems (White Pine Press, Buffalo, NY)

• Adele Kenny, A Lightness, A Thirst, or Nothing at All (Welcome Rain Publishers, New York, NY)

• Richard Michelson, More Money Than God (University of Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh, PA)

• Vivian Shipley, Perennial (Negative Capability Press, Mobile, AL)

___________________________________________________

Following are my top ten 2016 poetry books 
recommended for your summer reading 
(in alphabetical order by title).
 

 Atlas Apothecary by Tom Plante (Finishing Line Press)

Bright Stranger by Katherine Soniat (Louisiana State University Press)

Coat Thief by Jeffrey Davis (Saint Julian Press)

Collected Poems: 1974–2004 by Rita Dove (Norton).

Confessions of a Captured Angel by Neil Carpathios (Terrapin Books)

The Big Book of Exit Strategies by Jamaal May (Alice James)

The Uneaten Carrots of Atonement by Diane Lockward (Wind Publications)

The View from the Body by Renée Ashley (Black Lawrence Press)

Then Come Back: The Lost Neruda by Pablo Neruda (Copper Canyon)

To the Left of Time by Thomas Lux (Mariner: Houghton)

If you have other poetry books that you recommend,
I'd love to know about them, so please post their titles and authors as comments!

___________________________________________________

BTW ...

If you're looking for journals that accept submissions during the summer, 

be sure to visit Diane Lockward's blog, Blogalicious.

Summer Journals A-F

Summer Journals G-P

Summer Journals Q-Z

___________________________________________________

Enjoy the season and all the poetry that comes your way!

 I wish each of you, dear blog readers,

 a happy, restful, and healthy summer! 

Summer reruns will begin on Saturday, July 2nd, 

so please stay tuned!

Poetry Prompt #70 - The Villanelle

The French brought the villanelle into literary form during the late 1500s (a fragment by Jean Passerat (1534-1602) is one of the earliest known examples). Before Passerat's time, the villanelle existed in Italy as the villanella – an Italian folk song with accompanying dance. 

Although the “rules” may seem complicated at first, villanelle form is an interesting, and perhaps entertaining, challenge for the poet. It requires a special kind of concentration, as well as careful attention to the details of structure. Yes, you guessed it: this week's prompt is to write a villanelle.

A villanelle has 19 lines and uses repeated rhymes (which means that, despite a certain obsessive quality, villanelles have wonderful sonic impression when read aloud). The 19 lines are organized into six stanzas: the first five stanzas have three lines, and the last has four lines. The rhyme pattern is aba for the first five stanzas and abaa for the last. 

A villanelle only uses two rhymes, while also repeating two lines (refrains) throughout the poem.  The 1st, then the 3rd lines alternate as the last lines of stanzas 2, 3, and 4, and then stanza 5 (“dismount”) as a couplet. Admittedly, it sounds confusing, but it really isn't once you begin.

The form according to Turco:

A1  (refrain)
b
A2 (refrain)

a
b
A1 (refrain)

a
b
A2 (refrain)

a
b
A1 (refrain)

a
b
A2 (refrain)

a
b
A1
A2 (refrain)

The most famous villanelle is Dylan Thomas's "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night." To begin, take a close look at the Dylan Thomas poem (note the boldface and italics to highlight rhyme and repetition). Then read the additional examples. Study format as a “template” for your own villanelle. Choose end-words that have several, strong rhymes. Don't be afraid to experiment. 

Do not Go Gentle Into That Good Night 

by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Additional Examples:

"One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop

"Villanelle for an Anniversary" by Seamus Heaney

"The Nuns of Childhood: Two Views" by Maxine Kumin

"Villanelle" by W. H. Auden

"On A Line from Valery" by Carolyn Kizer

Poetry Prompt # 69 – Gratitude

During the last days of August, people living in my part of the country felt tremors from an earthquake several states away, and Hurricane Irene blasted our area with enough force to cause severe flooding, long power outages, and considerable property damage. Coming through with just a little water in the garage and a few branches down in the yard, I found myself reflecting upon gratitude and how blessed I am. That led me to think about how we express our gratitude for the obvious (food, shelter, clothing, family, friends) but what about the not-so-obvious and the profoundly personal? This week, let’s spend time thinking about something specific and special for which we’re grateful as the inspiration for a poem. Concentrate on using imagery to express emotion without "telling" and to create mood and atmosphere. Work with images that are “new-struck” and resonant.

Examples: 

"With Gratitude" by Edward Hirsch

"Thanks" by W. S. Merwin

And … by way of sharing, here’s a “gratitude” poem from What Matters. 

We Don’t Forget

Tonight you heard my

footsteps in the room

above and called to me.

I didn’t answer. There

was only the movement of

air my body made when

I turned to your voice.

Later, in what might have

been a dream, a little boy

played stickball in the street,

the moon shuffled home.

Grace is acceptance –

all of it, whatever is – as

in we live for this: love

and gratitude enough.

We don’t forget

how it feels to rejoice.

(from What Matters , Copyright © 2011 by Adele Kenny, Welcome Rain Publishers)

Poetry Prompt #68 – Books

When I started this blog, I promised myself that it wouldn’t be an “about me” blog. I hope you’ll forgive me for breaking that promise. Here's my reason: the advance copies of my new book, What Matters, arrived on Wednesday, and I’m so excited that I wanted to share the good news.

I've written a lot of books, but this one is the most special of all. "Meeting" it in print has been both exciting and humbling. The design and production are amazing, thanks to my publisher (John Weber, of Welcome Rain, http://www.welcomerain.com/) and the incredibly gifted designer he hired to create the cover and interior (Laura Smyth, http://www.smythtype.com/).

This was a challenging book to write – it deals with my experiences before, during, and after breast cancer. It’s not, however, a collection of poems about being ill; rather, it’s a collection of poems about survival and the human spirit – what grief, illness, and loss can teach us, and the ways in which we remember how to live (what really matters). Reviewer Charles DeFanti summed up my purpose when he wrote, "We're all survivors of something or other, and these ... poems by Adele Kenny tell us that we're not alone." Click Here to Read the Review

What Matters

6” x 9”, 64 Pages, 47 Poems 

Hardcover with Dust Jacket

Brown Boards with Gold Lettering

Click Here to Read Sample Poems from What Matters

I hope you'll consider ordering a copy and taking advantage 

of Amazon's generous discount!

Click Here to Order

Now – this week’s prompt!

Of course, with my own new book happily in mind, I thought it would be interesting to think about books and to try and write a poem about books we’ve read, books that have touched our lives in special ways, books we read as children, books that we’ve borrowed or lent, places we’ve spent time reading books, books that remind us of people and places, the books we'd like to write, the books we want/need to read, or “book” as a symbol or a metaphor. 

Examples:

"Books" by Gerald Stern

"A Happy Birthday" by Ted Kooser

"There is no frigate like a book" by Emily Dickinson
"Picture-books in Winter" by Robert Louis Stevenson

"A Book Said Dream and I Do" by Barbara Ras

"Book Loaned to Tom Andrews" by Bobby C. Rogers

"After Reading Lao Tzu" by Amy Newlove Schroeder

"A Book of Music" by Jack Spicer

"Balance'"by Adam Zagajewski
"Book Lover" by Robert Service

Poetry Prompt #67 - Go Green

We often hear the phrase “go green” in reference to environmental concerns and how we can take action through buying habits, behaviors, and lifestyles to reduce the size of our carbon footprints.

Green has long been associated with the natural world, but it also has other associations and symbolic meanings. It is linked with life and abundance, St. Patrick and Ireland, the newness of spring, and the fullness of summer. Green is often connected to  tranquility and denotes balance, harmony, and stability. Considered the most restful color, many believe that green offers a sense of renewal while alleviating depression and anxiety. In the United States, it's the color of money and the traffic signal color for "go." Olive green is also known as olive drab with military associations. On the flip side, green is linked to inexperience (the color of unripe fruit), jealousy (the green-eyed monster) and looking/feeling ill or frightened (green around the gills).

With all of this in mind, I thought it would be interesting to use green as the inspiration word for this week’s prompt. Accordingly, your poems might be environmentally driven or they may simply use the color green as their “muse.”

Here are some interesting examples (including a “green sonnet” by Petrarch)

"A Green Crab's Shell" by Mark Doty

"Cutting Greens" by Lucille Clifton

"Asphodel, That Greeny Flower" [Excerpt] by William Carlos Williams

"The Force That through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower" by Dylan Thomas

"The Green Stamp Book" by Susan Wheeler

"Green" by D. H. Lawrence

"Green Shade" by Henri Cole

"Sonnet 8 [Set me where as the sun doth parch the green]" by Petrarch (translated by Henry Howard)

Now it's your turn … Go Green!

Poetry Prompt #66 - Solo Renga

For this week’s prompt, I thought you might enjoy something a little different – a solo renga. The renga, which originated hundreds of years ago in Japan, is typically a series of short verses linked into a longer poem and composed collaboratively by a group. In recent years, however, practitioners of the form have experimented with solo renga (that is, renga written by a single poet).

In any renga, each verse must make sense (stand on its own) individually but must also connect with the verses that precede and follow it. There is no narrative, sequential, or logical thread.  Figures of speech (similes, metaphors, etc.) and abstractions may be not used. In a classical renga, the standard form is a repeated pattern of three and then two lines. Over time, many structural standards (rules) were established, and renga process can be quite complicated. Renga often contain 100 verses; the great Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō, however, was partial to the kasen renga, which consists of 36 verses. A related form is the renku (Click Here to Read about Renku). 

The opening verse in a renga is called the hokku, which gave rise to the haiku (Click Here to Read about Haiku) and which shares the haiku form of three short lines with a seasonal reference. This verse and all that follow communicate details and emotion through images. Pure and simple.

Your renga may be as long or as short as you wish and, instead of working within a group of writers, you will write on your own. Our goal isn’t to be technical about the rules (or to be compelled or burdened by them) but, rather, to notice details, to focus on imagery, and to express feeling without using figurative language or conceptualizations. As you write, remember that the great delights of renga include a sense of continual surprise, distinctive imagery, and sudden or subtle insights (true of good poetry in general).

1. Go to a place in which you are relaxed (a room in your home, a park, the seashore), take a walk, lie in your hammock ­– you get the idea, right?

2. Reflect, meditate on your surroundings, and write your hokku or first verse: a season word included in a brief "note" on your surroundings.

3. Now, following the three-line, two-line format, begin linking. Write a two-line verse that connects to your first, and so on. Focus on images and avoid figurative language or abstractions.

4. Stop at any point that feels comfortable.

Examples of Renku:
http://sites.google.com/site/graceguts/collaborations/windswept-walk

http://www.hsa-haiku.org/einbondawards/einbond.htm

Related Reading:

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5788

http://simplyhaiku.com/SHv7n1/renku/essay_art_solo.html

Philip Levine Named U.S. Poet Laureate

Pulitzer Prize winner Philip Levine, known for his poetry of the working class, has been appointed the new U.S. Poet Laureate. The Library of Congress has announced that the 83-year-old Levine will succeed W.S. Merwin this fall. The U.S. Poet Laureate receives $35,000 and is known officially as the Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry. Mr. Levine will serve from  October through May.

NY Times

Washington Post

Examiner

Poets. Org, About Philip Levine

Poetry Foundation, About Philip Levine

Poetry Prompt #65 - What Would You Say?

Is there someone you didn’t get a chance to speak with before he or she passed away? Have you ever thought about things you neglected to say when that person was alive? Who is that person? Imagine for a moment that you’re able to speak to him or to her. What would you say? What comfort would you find in one more communication? Think in terms of your relationship with the person and what that person meant to you. Think how you felt when the person passed away. Think about things that were left unsaid.

As you write this week, the object is not to dwell on sadness or regret but, rather, to work toward unique imagery and expression. Think of your poem as having two subjects. Poet Renée Ashley describes these as “the obvious one, its material, and the unarticulated one, its matter.” Don’t just tell about your feelings; evoke a feeling by showing, not telling. Your poem should have something to say, something honest and real, with a profound emotional center. It needs to "hit home" for the reader, and it needs to do that without being sentimental or ordinary.

1. Write a poem addressed to someone who is deceased.

Example:

Fists (For My Father)

By Joe Weil

It was the sense that your fists were worlds

and mine were not that caused me to worship you;

all those thick rope veins, and the deep inlaid grime of your life,

the permanent filth of your labors.

I wanted your history.

My own smoothness appalled me.

I wanted that hardness

of fists.

I'd pry your fingers loose,

using both my hands,

find stones, a robin's egg uncrushed

in the thick meat of your palms.

Between thumb and forefinger,

your flesh smelled of creosote and lye,

three packs of Chesterfield Kings.

You told me stories about heroes,

David with his sling,

Samson with his jaw bone of an ass,

Christ with his word forgive.

Tonight, I read about Cuchulain

contending with the sea,

how he killed his son in battle,

a son he'd never known,

and, mad with his grief,

fought the waves

for three nights and as many days,

until, at last, he came ashore,

and fell asleep holding his dead child's hands.

When he woke, it was morning, and the hands of his son

had become two Black Swans.

They flew West where all suffering ends.

I read this story

and I remember you.

Hold me clenched until I am those birds.

Sleep now,

until your fists can open.

(From Painting the Christmas Trees (Texas Review Press, Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved.)

2. Address a poem to a specific group of deceased persons or to the deceased in general.

Examples:

"The Dead" by Susan Mitchell

"The Dead" by Billy Collins (Collins Reading/Animated Video)

"To the Dead" by Frank Bidart (Bidart Reading/Audio) 

3. Write a poem to or about a deceased pet.

By way of sharing, here’s a poem I wrote for my Yeats, my beloved Yorkshire Terrier:

Watching

By Adele Kenny

In Memory of Yeatsy

(January 5, 1993- July 6, 2008)

The way his head slips from     

my hand as I lay him down,

his eyes still open (though I

try to close them), the same

warmth still in his small body.

It is this: death, a skill learned

by those who observe it; grief

what we keep – and memory

always, at least in part, about

forgetting. I cross his paws the

way he crossed them in sleep.

Like all deaths that summer

remembers, I walk his home.

A patch of sun climbs the stairs

without him; white moths,

like snowflakes, span the sky. 

(From What Matters, Welcome Rain Publishers, Copyright © 2011. All rights reserved.)

Poetry Prompt #64 – Wishing Well

This week’s prompt is simple: if you had a chance to throw a coin into a wishing well and make a wish that would definitely come true, what would your wish be? (For a twist on this prompt, think in terms of the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for.”)

Though the prompt may be simple, your poem shouldn’t be – work toward layers of meaning, and be sure to give your poem room to work out more than one subject (the literal topic, of course, but the unspoken subject as well). Be sure to avoid the typical wish list poem – we’re going for something more substantial this week.

Sample wish poems:

"Ah! Sunflower" by William Blake

"The Wishing Tree" by Kathleen Jamie

"Monna Innominata" [I wish I could remember] by Christina Rossetti

"The Wish" by Louise Gluck

"Wish" by W. S. Merwin

"Wish Upon a Sunset" by Raymond A. Foos

Poetry Prompt #63 - Carousel

The heat here in central New Jersey has been especially oppressive with a high yesterday of 104 degrees (Fahrenheit) and a heat index of 114! There’s something about summer and hot days that always makes me think of sand and surf, amusement parks and, especially, carousels. There’s something romantic about carousels – whimsical, magical. 

The earliest known representation of a carousel appears in a Byzantine bas-relief that dates to c. 500 A.D. The relief shows riders in baskets suspended from a central pole. Later, carousel was the term used for 16^th century spectacles in which riders tried to spear gold rings with lances as part of court festivities. This sport ultimately replaced combative jousting and inspired the carousels that became popular in Europe by the late 1700's. In America, the glory days of the carousel or merry-go-round stretched from the 1880s into the 1920s.  Many carousels featured a device filled with plain metal rings and one or two made of brass. Grabbing a brass ring while the carousel was in motion meant that the rider was entitled to a free ride. Some interpreted that as good luck and, when I was a child, my mom and dad said that grabbing the brass ring meant a wish would be granted.

1. Imagine this: you’re riding the carousel at an amusement park or at a local fair and you reach to grab the brass ring. As your fingers touch the ring and pull it toward you, the carousel begins to spin faster and lifts into the air. As weird as this is, you aren’t afraid. In fact, you’re filled with a wonderful sense of excitement. What happens next? Write a prose poem in which you fill in the details and describe the outcome.

2. An alternative is to write about an amusement park, a side show, a freak show, or how your life is like a merry-go-round.

3. You might want to try a poem inspired by, but not necessarily about, a carousel. To see what I mean, read "Central Park, Carousel" by Meena Alexander.

4. You may even write a series of haiku, senryu, or short poems on the carousel or amusement park theme. Read Alan Pizzarelli's "Amusement Park" poems for inspiration.

5. What does the term “Carousel Dreams” suggest to you? Try writing a poem with this title. For inspiration, here’s a lovely and moving video of Verne Langdon's song ("Carousel Dreams") narrated by Jonathan Winters.

And ... just for fun, here's a video of carousel riders hoping to catch a brass ring.

When is a poem not a poem?

We’ve all read them in journals and heard them at poetry readings – poems that make us think, “Whaaaaaaat? That’s not a poem!” But there they are – in print and heard by audiences – poems that lack substance and surprise, music, immediacy, energy, and power.

How do we define what a poem is not? For me, a poem is not a poem:

when it’s sentimental, overly cerebral, or obscure,

when it’s self-consciously “poetic,”

when it’s clumsy, contrived, or cutesy,

when it leaves no gaps (when it “tells” too much),

when nothing in it leaps, trumpets, or thunders,

when its imagery fails,

when its “dismount” falls flat,

when it tries to be something it’s not,

when it’s forgettable.

Following are some insights from five poet and editor friends.

Diane Lockward

Author of Temptation by Water

Click Here to Order Temptation by Water

A poem is not a poem:

when it's prose broken into lines,

when it's all brain and no heart,

when it's all syrup and no substance,

when its diction has no fire.

Donna Baier-Stein

Publisher and Editor-in-Chief of Tiferet: A Journal of Spiritual Literature

Click Here to To Order & Subscribe

A poem isn't a poem when it could just as easily be laid out on the page as dull prose, when there's no unexpected magic in the language or rhythm in the sound. 

 Joe Weil

Author of The Plumber’s Apprentice

Click Here to Order The Plumber's Apprentice

A poem is not a poem:

when it is part of a group sensibility (any group sensibility) and does not challenge, stretch, or try the reader's (or the poet's) aesthetics,

when the poet hedges his or her bets in the poem to the point of making no wager at all,

when the poem offends no one, baffles no one, troubles no one, and allows the reader or listener to go to bed comfortably still hugging the consciousness they had prior to reading the poem (while completely forgetting the poem),

when the poet relies on directness to the point of being merely overt or on indirection and ambiguity to the point of saying absolutely nothing in as bland and intelligent a way as possible,

when the showing does not tell, and the telling does not show and it's all done in neat tercets of medium length lines,

when the dog's the dog, and the tree's the tree, and the dying lover is the dying lover, and any old dog, tree, and dying lover would have done just as nicely,

when the poet employs one cliché after another and is as untroubled by it as a sociopath might be upon slitting a child's throat,

when the poem is ignorant of its own interior rules (it's organic necessity), and obeys some outward construct that destroys the virtue of obedience for the cheap rewards of conformity,

when the poem does not allow for at least the same amount of possibility as a white sheet of paper,

when there is nothing I could change, add, or correct in it and yet I still say: so what? In short, the equivalent of a pianist who can play all the notes correctly but never makes music. 

Adam Fitzgerald

Editor of Maggy Click Here to Order Maggy

Publisher of Monk Books Click Here to Order  

I wish there was an easy answer about how to know the difference between what is a poem, and what is not. The second one feels tempted to be a little bit reactionary, of course, it’s important to remember Shakespeare’s plays were not published during his time by the author because Elizabethan drama was considered entertainment, and the idea of anyone taking an interest in playwrights’ works would be equivalent to HBO screenwriters publishing their collected works. Emily Dickinson’s work, though published soon after her death, was also not considered “poetry” – what many of the early reviews praised were her themes, her provinciality, her mysticism. When it came to the mechanics of verse, she was considered faulty.

… the short answer as to what makes a poem still seems to me to be what William Carlos Williams said, defending Marianne Moore, whose admitted aesthetic was to write “well-ordered prose” – he said it qualified as poetry because it was intended to be read as a poem. Then again, as John Ashbery articulated shrewdly in an interview I did with him this spring, one has to be open to encountering poetry anywhere: a sewing manual, a train bulletin, an info-mercial, even a blog, no? 

Renée Ashley

Author of Basic Heart

Click Here to Order Basic Heart 

A poem is not a poem:

when the poem feels for you rather than leading you to feel,

when all the narrative and/or rhetorical gaps are filled,

when it’s selling something,

when it lacks a modicum of doubt,

when it’s out there instead of in here,

when it doesn’t mean more than it says,

when it’s merely clever,

when you get to the end and have not been startled into deep attentiveness,

when it falls in the forest and no one hears it. 

In 1870, Emily Dickinson remarked to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, "If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?"

What do you think? Your comments are welcome!

Poetry Prompt #62 - Chants & Charms

When I was a little girl, my English grandmother taught me many old British nursery rhymes and a few chants. Along with Humpty Dumpty, Little Jack Horner, and Jack Sprat, this chant has stayed with me:

“Trefoil, vervain, John’s wort, dill,

hinder witches of their will.”

When I was little, I loved chanting it, singsong style, with Grandma, and I was surprised to encounter it recently in a mystery novel that I was reading. When I Googled the rhyme, I found that it was once believed to act as a countercharm against spells that might do harm, and I found what appears to be its earliest written version in Michael Drayton’s 1627 poem “Nymphidia” (lines 390 & 391) Click Here to Read "Nymphidia" by Michael Drayton

Memories of my grandmother, a dozen or more visits to England over the years, and the old “trefoil, vervain” chant are my inspiration for this week’s prompt. Here it is:

1. Make up your own protective chant that includes herbs or flowers. Use the chant above as a model.  (There’s lots of info about herbs online that might be helpful if you'd like to do some research.)

2. Use your chant in a poem. It may be an epigraph or a first line. It may even be a refrain or the last line. You may address the poem to someone, venture into the world of faerie and create a narrative fantasy, or go in any direction that your poem wants to go.

Sage, verbena, mint, and thyme,

will surely help you with your rhyme!

Make a little magick!