Language itself is a barrier.
11/10/2004
Monday Blue Plate Poetry Special, #1
I attend a local poetry critique group called Ash Canyon Poets that also happens to be the best one I've ever attended. In general, that's not saying much. Most writer's groups suck big time, but this is one is an exception. There are some fine poets in attendance and the group as a whole has a genuine love and awareness of what is real poetry. Even the occasional precious artiste who drifts in gets useful pointers with a minimum of mollycoddling. I tried a writer's group in Reno a couple of years ago, but it didn't go well. As is more often the case, egos got in the way. I took a break when I went on the Interferon treatment for Hep C and by the time I was ready to pick up my life again, the group faded out. Ash Canyon, on the other hand, has been meeting on Friday nights at the Brewery Arts Center for the last 18 years. That is amazing.
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2 comments:
Here's my favorite poem with the word bird in it:
It was a pretty song of spring
that tommy jones had learned to sing
before the school on closing day
a song appropriate and gay
the words of his first line were these
"the buds are bursting on the trees"
But when that day tom's name was called
he faced his audience appalled
and this at last was what he sung
as terror twisted up his tongue
and stagefright shook his voice and knees
"the birds are bustin' on the trees."
anon
posted by a precious artiste
my best to the group. Wish y'all were here.
Arg! We're reading tonight. Wish you were here.
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