Review
by Pris Campbell
The Best of Poetry Hickory Anthology
From my distant perch in Florida, I’ve long been convinced that something in the Carolina water breeds especially good poets. This anthology, packed with well-written, spell-binding poems, more than confirms my suspicions. These poems speak in an engaging voice to the reader rather than announcing ‘look at how good I am” by way of contrived metaphors or other poetic devices inserted simply for the sake of having them there. These poems are good. It’s not necessary for them to preen or crow to let us know it.
I like to read poems I can relate to, poems that move me, poems that give me a way of seeing the familiar in a new light. This book did all of that in spades.
I could easily quote lines from every poem but space allows only a few. Those chosen were a difficult call but they give an idea of the range of themes covered in the anthology.
Robert Abbate asks in “Ecce Homo”:
What would Jesus do
once he could be lured
to the place of the fractured
pistol-whipped skull
and once, in the freezing air
he could be lashed to a barbed
wire fence outside Laramie
Maureen Sherbondy continues the theme in a different way in “Praying at Coffee Shops in the South”:
What are those public interludes with God?
Two men at Starbucks holding hands
bent over in prayer leaning into the invisible
Tony Ricciardell brings us back home as he speaks to his now helpless father in “Sins of My Father”:
If I spoke to your mother the way you speak to your wife you would have crippled me, wouldn’t you? If I called your mother bitch or whore, if I curled curses at her the way you hurled curses at my mother, you would have kicked me down the stairs, wouldn’t you?
Malaika King Albrecht’s poem, “The Riddle Song” brings tears as she writes of her father singing “I gave my love a cherry’ as he massages her mother’s useless limbs, hoping her mother is able to hear him, hoping she is looking at him as he sings.
Ted Pope views family from the other direction in “Bright Child” as he watches his daughter move swiftly from infant to adulthood:
….bright child holy child child of all my hope and reverence I
saw her coming down 4th St again today and today would not
be like any other day oh no today I’m going to follow her to
see where she goes to get that glowing external primal essence…
And Joseph Bathanti offers a bawdier view of the South in “Peaches”:
On a roadhouse bathroom wall
in the peach town of Gaffney, South Carolina
a woman’s body laminates itself
across the face of a condom machine
These poems are jewels. If I could I would string them around my neck so I could reach up and feel their glow whenever I liked. Needless to say, I highly recommend this book.
The Best of Poetry Hickory is available at Taste Full Beans Coffee House or from Scott Owens (asowens1@yahoo.com) for just $5 -- All proceeds to Taste Full Beans in gratitude for hosting Poetry Hickory for four years. A reading from the anthology will take place on September 13, 5:30, at Taste Full Beans, and will feature 27 of the poets selected for the anthology.
Showing posts with label Ted Pope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ted Pope. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Slight Change in Format for Poetry Hickory 4th Anniversary Celebration
The response from poets for the Poetry Hickory 4th Anniversary Celebration has been much greater than I anticipated. When I first planned on having this double book release party (my new book and The Best of Poetry Hickory anthology), I figured we would get between a half dozen and a dozen poets to come and read their one poem from the anthology, so I thought it would make sense to give the anthology a half hour and I would take an hour for mine. Then when we went over a dozen, I changed it to where we would split the time evenly. Now, we have 23 poets who will be there to read their poems from the anthology. So, I'm still having my book release party, but I'm going to do just a brief (10 minute) reading from "Something Knows the Moment" just as a "warm-up" for the anthology. We will split those readers in half and take a break in the middle so that people can buy books, get signatures and refresh their drinks.
I look forward to seeing you all at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory on September 13. The readings will begin at 5:30 and should wrap up around 7:00. I will have plenty of copies of "Something Knows the Moment," which retails for $14.95, and the anthology, which sells for just $5. If you can't make it, but you want a book, let me know, and I will work out the shipping with you. And by the way, we will still have Writers' Night Out at 4:00.
Here is a complete list of the poets currently scheduled to read their poems from what is a truly wonderful collection:
Jeanne Ackley
Hazel Benau
Jessie Carty
Bud Caywood
Ann Chandonnet
M. Scott Douglass
Bill Griffin
Helen Losse
Dennis Lovelace
Doug MacHargue
Shane Manier
Ron Moran
Scott Owens
Tim Peeler
Julian Phelps
Ted Pope
Nancy Posey
David Poston
Tony Ricciardelli
Molly Rice
Donnie Smart
Kermit Turner
Devona Wyant
and maybe more
Should be quite the Poetry Party. Come for the anthology; come for my book; come for the poetry; come to meet some of these poets; come for the wine; just come for the good time!
I hope to see you there.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Reading at MESH Gallery in Morganton
I'm excited to have been invited by Eliot Lytle and Ted Pope to kick off their new reading series at Eliot's gallery, MESH, on May 8. The Gallery is at 114B W. Union St. in Morganton, NC. The reading will start at 3:00 and will include live music from The Secret Alphabets and of course attendees will be able to view the artwork on display as well. And if you're tired of hearing poems from "Paternity," this is a reading you'll want to attend. I'll be reading some of my more "interesting" poems -- the uncensored Scott Owens.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Everybody Loves Ted
Musings for April 9, 2009
Everybody Loves Ted
Ted Pope is nuts, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is legendary, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is a remarkable poet, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is an unforgettable performer, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope can be maddening (especially for those who need him to submit to the demands of time and space), and still everybody loves him.
I’ve told my students on more than one occasion that my favorite poet to see live is Ted Pope. Ted Pope has stood me up for the Poetry Hickory Open Mic three times, but I still scheduled him as a featured writer at Poetry Hickory for April 14. I’m no more resistant to his charm and talent than all the others who love him. I’ve told my students, “If you only make to one Poetry Hickory all year, make it the one where Ted Pope is reading.”
Ted Pope’s readings are entertaining, enigmatic, titillating, and cathartic. They are, in the truest sense of the word, an “event.” The best reaction I’ve heard to Ted Pope’s readings was simply, “That was brilliant!” The worst was, “What the *!#@ was that?” In both cases, however, they were still talking about the reading weeks later. Ted Pope is an electronic installation and multi-media performance poet from Morganton. He is the author of the collection rEdlipsticK, and a previous winner of the NC Performance Poetry Championships.
Pope has been described as a “one-of-a-kind energy vortex;” as a “hybrid combination of wise old sage and someone teetering on the edge;” and as “one of the first great apocalyptic poets.”
His work has been described as a “combination of Hunter S. Thompson and William S. Burroughs” and as a “surreal yet immensely relevant symbolic look at our culture and mythology.” All of that sounds like so much promotional hyperbole. In fact, however, I’m not sure it does Pope or his work justice. Nor does the poem I’m including here do justice to Pope’s genius. To appreciate it fully one would need to hear/see it performed by Pope himself.
Obituary for a Poetry Reading
The Poetry Reading is survived by:
the poet.
the poets family.
the poet's friends many of whom are also poets.
poets who aren't friends of the poet but who go to poetry readings with the unspoken expectation that the favor be returned.
young poets who pretend even to themselves that they saw sumthing inspiring so they don't have to face what a waste the evening was.
one of the poets in attendance claimed that the Poetry Reading could have been saved if they had moved it full speed ahead to the lobby of a Tire Store.
the poet took a seashell from inside his coat and placed it next to his ear.
he spread his fingers and stuck his thumb to the side of his head so that it looked like antlers or antennae.
stood like that for a moment and took his hand down and put the shell away.
then he continued to explain. people are tired of having their poetry interrupted by cappuccino machines. people want poetry that is interrupted by pneumatic drills. they want compression and rattling of chains. people waiting in Tire Store lobbies want poetry. Even if it just allows them the chance to tell people how much they hated it. even if they act embarrassed for the poet. or become angry and walk out. or throw you out. but they want it. if we had only taken the Poetry Reading immediately to a Tire Store the people in the lobby would have saved it. we wanted to save the Poetry Reading ourselves but we were just a bunch of poets and the best we could do was sit with it. hold its hand and watch it breathe its last.
ok? said the poet.
Everybody Loves Ted
Ted Pope is nuts, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is legendary, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is a remarkable poet, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope is an unforgettable performer, and everybody loves him. Ted Pope can be maddening (especially for those who need him to submit to the demands of time and space), and still everybody loves him.
I’ve told my students on more than one occasion that my favorite poet to see live is Ted Pope. Ted Pope has stood me up for the Poetry Hickory Open Mic three times, but I still scheduled him as a featured writer at Poetry Hickory for April 14. I’m no more resistant to his charm and talent than all the others who love him. I’ve told my students, “If you only make to one Poetry Hickory all year, make it the one where Ted Pope is reading.”
Ted Pope’s readings are entertaining, enigmatic, titillating, and cathartic. They are, in the truest sense of the word, an “event.” The best reaction I’ve heard to Ted Pope’s readings was simply, “That was brilliant!” The worst was, “What the *!#@ was that?” In both cases, however, they were still talking about the reading weeks later. Ted Pope is an electronic installation and multi-media performance poet from Morganton. He is the author of the collection rEdlipsticK, and a previous winner of the NC Performance Poetry Championships.
Pope has been described as a “one-of-a-kind energy vortex;” as a “hybrid combination of wise old sage and someone teetering on the edge;” and as “one of the first great apocalyptic poets.”
His work has been described as a “combination of Hunter S. Thompson and William S. Burroughs” and as a “surreal yet immensely relevant symbolic look at our culture and mythology.” All of that sounds like so much promotional hyperbole. In fact, however, I’m not sure it does Pope or his work justice. Nor does the poem I’m including here do justice to Pope’s genius. To appreciate it fully one would need to hear/see it performed by Pope himself.
Obituary for a Poetry Reading
The Poetry Reading is survived by:
the poet.
the poets family.
the poet's friends many of whom are also poets.
poets who aren't friends of the poet but who go to poetry readings with the unspoken expectation that the favor be returned.
young poets who pretend even to themselves that they saw sumthing inspiring so they don't have to face what a waste the evening was.
one of the poets in attendance claimed that the Poetry Reading could have been saved if they had moved it full speed ahead to the lobby of a Tire Store.
the poet took a seashell from inside his coat and placed it next to his ear.
he spread his fingers and stuck his thumb to the side of his head so that it looked like antlers or antennae.
stood like that for a moment and took his hand down and put the shell away.
then he continued to explain. people are tired of having their poetry interrupted by cappuccino machines. people want poetry that is interrupted by pneumatic drills. they want compression and rattling of chains. people waiting in Tire Store lobbies want poetry. Even if it just allows them the chance to tell people how much they hated it. even if they act embarrassed for the poet. or become angry and walk out. or throw you out. but they want it. if we had only taken the Poetry Reading immediately to a Tire Store the people in the lobby would have saved it. we wanted to save the Poetry Reading ourselves but we were just a bunch of poets and the best we could do was sit with it. hold its hand and watch it breathe its last.
ok? said the poet.
In Defense of Post Avant Poetry
“Musings” for April 2, 2009
Some poets spend their time writing poetry; others divide their time between poetry and poetic theory and quite often seem to construct theory mostly as a means of justifying what they are trying to do in their own work. Over the years, it has seemed to me that those who are good at theory are not that good at poetry, while those who are good at poetry aren’t interested in spending much time justifying what they’re doing in the form of theory. Perhaps the nature of the two activities makes this bit of division unavoidable. Poetic theory is analytical and supremely rational in nature. Poetry, on the other hand, often seems much more intuitive, requiring a mind that is free from the constraints of consistent and thorough analysis and reason. For this reason, Carter Monroe is the truly exceptional poet, who has built a career of remarkable poetry and insightful theory.
Carter Monroe is a poet, novelist, philosopher, musicologist, and critic. He is the author of at least 5 collections of poetry, including The New Lost Blues and Billy Putrid, and the novel Journey. His poetry has been widely published in such journals as Rusty Truck, Dead Mule, Wild Goose Poetry Review, and The Pudding House Gang Anthology. He was also founder and editor of Rank Stranger Press, through which he helped writers like M. Scott Douglass, Ron Androla, D.B. Cox, S.A. Griffin, Jim Chandler, Jim Clark, and Pris Campbell find audiences.
Carter Monroe is one of the most important writers in the American South today, not only because of his own outstanding poetry, but also because of the guidance he has offered other poets. Hickory poet, Tim Peeler, says of him, “Carter Monroe is one of the most dedicated students of literature and language that I know. Through his own work and that of Rank Stranger Press, he has been a force in the small press for many years.”
More than anything else, I think what has enabled Monroe to reside comfortably in the worlds of theory and poetry is that unlike most theorists, he plays the game for a sheer love of the game. The ideal sportsman, Monroe doesn’t care if he wins or loses. In fact, it could be said that he often changes sides simply to make the game more interesting. In a recent email, Monroe commented on an article in which the author seemed determined to push the aesthetics of what is often called avant-garde (or more recently post-avant) poetry at the expense of Nobel Prize winning poet, Seamus Heaney. Monroe remarks, “This article reminds me of political discussions in which the sins of one candidate are compared to the sins of another in an attempt to explain who is superior by default. The politics of poetry is so "obvious" as to appear juvenile. Sometimes it seems like a series of cults in which the only common denominator is a refusal to bathe.” I have seen and heard Monroe leap just as quickly to the defense of post-avant poetry as he leaps to Heaney’s defense here. Monroe is just as comfortable writing traditionally-grounded poetry as he is writing post-avant work, and because of that he has a unique appreciation of good poetry regardless of the “school” of poetry it comes out of.
Monroe will be in Hickory on April 14 to read his work at Poetry with Morganton poet, Ted Pope. Poetry Hickory is sponsored by Main Street Rag and held at 6:30 at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse on the second Tuesday of each month. The Carter Monroe poem below is reprinted from The Pudding House Gang Anthology.
Coffee
What this premise holds within a recreational span
is more than a superfluous afterthought.
Too often the creamer has run dry
necessitating the use of envelopes of powder.
The residue of which, free associates without context
or placid considerations of decay.
It’s the bloodstream in all its glory.
The infrastructure of bodily highways
with charts, grafts, and some idea of gravity,
routing its way toward potential blocks,
in possession of the ability to regenerate,
and curving until the path has become arcane.
The conversationalists fall into the natural order of habit,
precluding accrued genius and the concept of money as tender.
Erstwhile, the cavities remain at varying levels
unmeasured in terms of cerebral analysis,
incapable of judging vegetables
or a digestive system that functions on its own.
The walls are temporarily combustible
shrinking and expanding in a crash-and-burn mode.
Ideas running into the blur of circles
become calmed by morning papers and sacrosanct news.
The blip of day solidifies itself (only briefly) at a standstill
waiting impatiently for the next phase of segmentation.
Some poets spend their time writing poetry; others divide their time between poetry and poetic theory and quite often seem to construct theory mostly as a means of justifying what they are trying to do in their own work. Over the years, it has seemed to me that those who are good at theory are not that good at poetry, while those who are good at poetry aren’t interested in spending much time justifying what they’re doing in the form of theory. Perhaps the nature of the two activities makes this bit of division unavoidable. Poetic theory is analytical and supremely rational in nature. Poetry, on the other hand, often seems much more intuitive, requiring a mind that is free from the constraints of consistent and thorough analysis and reason. For this reason, Carter Monroe is the truly exceptional poet, who has built a career of remarkable poetry and insightful theory.
Carter Monroe is a poet, novelist, philosopher, musicologist, and critic. He is the author of at least 5 collections of poetry, including The New Lost Blues and Billy Putrid, and the novel Journey. His poetry has been widely published in such journals as Rusty Truck, Dead Mule, Wild Goose Poetry Review, and The Pudding House Gang Anthology. He was also founder and editor of Rank Stranger Press, through which he helped writers like M. Scott Douglass, Ron Androla, D.B. Cox, S.A. Griffin, Jim Chandler, Jim Clark, and Pris Campbell find audiences.
Carter Monroe is one of the most important writers in the American South today, not only because of his own outstanding poetry, but also because of the guidance he has offered other poets. Hickory poet, Tim Peeler, says of him, “Carter Monroe is one of the most dedicated students of literature and language that I know. Through his own work and that of Rank Stranger Press, he has been a force in the small press for many years.”
More than anything else, I think what has enabled Monroe to reside comfortably in the worlds of theory and poetry is that unlike most theorists, he plays the game for a sheer love of the game. The ideal sportsman, Monroe doesn’t care if he wins or loses. In fact, it could be said that he often changes sides simply to make the game more interesting. In a recent email, Monroe commented on an article in which the author seemed determined to push the aesthetics of what is often called avant-garde (or more recently post-avant) poetry at the expense of Nobel Prize winning poet, Seamus Heaney. Monroe remarks, “This article reminds me of political discussions in which the sins of one candidate are compared to the sins of another in an attempt to explain who is superior by default. The politics of poetry is so "obvious" as to appear juvenile. Sometimes it seems like a series of cults in which the only common denominator is a refusal to bathe.” I have seen and heard Monroe leap just as quickly to the defense of post-avant poetry as he leaps to Heaney’s defense here. Monroe is just as comfortable writing traditionally-grounded poetry as he is writing post-avant work, and because of that he has a unique appreciation of good poetry regardless of the “school” of poetry it comes out of.
Monroe will be in Hickory on April 14 to read his work at Poetry with Morganton poet, Ted Pope. Poetry Hickory is sponsored by Main Street Rag and held at 6:30 at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse on the second Tuesday of each month. The Carter Monroe poem below is reprinted from The Pudding House Gang Anthology.
Coffee
What this premise holds within a recreational span
is more than a superfluous afterthought.
Too often the creamer has run dry
necessitating the use of envelopes of powder.
The residue of which, free associates without context
or placid considerations of decay.
It’s the bloodstream in all its glory.
The infrastructure of bodily highways
with charts, grafts, and some idea of gravity,
routing its way toward potential blocks,
in possession of the ability to regenerate,
and curving until the path has become arcane.
The conversationalists fall into the natural order of habit,
precluding accrued genius and the concept of money as tender.
Erstwhile, the cavities remain at varying levels
unmeasured in terms of cerebral analysis,
incapable of judging vegetables
or a digestive system that functions on its own.
The walls are temporarily combustible
shrinking and expanding in a crash-and-burn mode.
Ideas running into the blur of circles
become calmed by morning papers and sacrosanct news.
The blip of day solidifies itself (only briefly) at a standstill
waiting impatiently for the next phase of segmentation.
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