Last night I stood in front of the poets in the bookstore as if their spines held heads up, heads with faces I’d kissed. I reached for C.D. Wright, creaked her open. Frank O’Hara I hardly looked him in the eye. I don’t think I can bare up under poetry anymore, how it whittles me down, dies my wool, strings me out. How a line breaks.
I walked away like I had closed my eyes during an eclipse, like I’d missed something cosmic, an explosion or a beautiful coming together.
I know voice, but I blog and forget my punk ways. This place is safe, and I’m both glad and disheartened by it, how as a poet I would have to change my name.
Later a friend laid her books down on the table, and on top was Matthew Dickman, All American Poem, and I reached for him when she went for another drink. It was a dangerous move.
1.
2. How to Be an Explorer of the World from Brainpickings.
3. There’s only really one place we’re alive. No matter what a poem or a lover or a drink can do. Thanks to my dearest Ginny (who you need to know know know) I rightly remember life. She linked to this video the other day:
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such goodness. thanks! xo
hannah singer recently posted..insta-friday {and free shipping!}
Whew! Your way with words, Amber? Well, I’m pretty much buying whatever it is you’re selling. They’re that g o o d.
xo
Robin ~ Pensieve recently posted..Be still…and know (plus a Lisa Leonard giveaway!)
the first three paragraphs here are among my most favorite of your words. amen and selah.
Except…this here? What you write? Some of the best poetry I read.
Love this video I noticed it when I was crazed watching All Sons and Daughters a couple months ago and that popped up. Great.
Melissa recently posted..Story is Conflict. Conflict is Faith.
I really like Dickman’s “All American Poem.”
These words “how is whittles me down” and “how the line breaks.” Maybe that splains the punched in the gut feeling I get when I am finish with a poem, reading it. Being with it. Amber, your poetic you is a beautiful thing. When I catch my breath I want to read more. Whittled down, friend.
Elizabeth recently posted..Write It All Down
This is good. So good.
Southern Gal recently posted..Random Friday
Thank you Amber for this pure goodness. I love it.
the thing i love about poetry is that i am so behind in discovering it that everything is new–it feels like christmas every new poem. and this “slow dance” was a beautiful gift for me this sabbath morning. oh, thank you.
laura recently posted..An Artist’s Prayer…
Holy mother, that was an incredible poem. I can’t hardly breathe.
Sarah Bessey recently posted..In which I’m not preacher or a teacher, I’m an artist
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