Tag Archives: poet

Poem: Each Night I Go to Bed

by Editor | 3 Comments

by Lethe Bashar
The poet is the editor of Escape into Life, arts/culture web-zine and fine art auction. He is also working with an illustrator from Argentina on a graphic novel. Besides that he keeps up an essay-blog, The Blog of Innocence, that covers topics in the arts, social technology, and a general philosophy of life.

This poem was originally posted on Twitter as an experimental project in spontaneous poetry via Twitter with @paulokoba

Each Night I Go to Bed

each night I go to bed
a little bit later
I wake up in the morning
forgetting the past

days add up like coins in my pocket
I’m rich with hours
another little bit has passed

I find another hobby
swear to myself I’ll get healthy
another little bit has passed

I think about the news
write about my views
another little bit has passed

when will this world come to an end?
it seems so eternal right now

Poem: The Moth Approached Me Like a Blinking Eye

by Editor

by Lethe Bashar
The poet is the editor of Escape into Life, arts/culture web-zine and fine art auction. He is also working with an illustrator from Argentina on a graphic novel. Besides that he keeps up an essay-blog, The Blog of Innocence, that covers topics in the arts, social technology, and a general philosophy of life.

The Moth Approached Me Like a Blinking Eye

The moth approached me like a blinking eye,
I was having a cigarette in the garage.
The birds squeaked in the far off darkness,
a menacing sound disrupting the night.

I pressed the moth to give me her reasons
for staying up as late as she did–
She continued to blink, and I awaited her answer,
but nothing came.

The birds heckled the darkness and the darkness
heckled back–the chaos persisted but
remained subdued and the neighbors
stayed in bed.

The children, in their warm beds,
were dreaming of magical places,
and I bemoaned my condition
while having my cigarette in the garage.

I thought of summer, which was expected
to come, maybe tomorrow or never,
I figured I’d be sleeping when it did.
I thought of the hours I’d missed.

The moth returned after awhile,
she blinked her wings again and again,
She seemed to know I had a mild fever,
she seemed to know my memories too.

Let me go, I said. Be off. I want to sleep.

Podcast of Henry David Thoreau on Poetry and Writing

by Editor

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In 1839, Henry David Thoreau and his brother made a river voyage in a boat that they built themselves. This voyage became the subject of Thoreau’s first book, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, published in 1849 at his own expense. In this thirty-three minute excerpt, Thoreau finds himself describing the incredible beauty and serenity of the natural scene around him. But his mind wanders into a profound examination of poetry and the requirements of good writing. His call to man for a life of poetry and his demand that writers create simply from an impulse to action are powerful and true. I don’t think there is a better piece of advice that exists for writers and readers alike.

Thoreau frequently quotes from Homer’s Iliad and other sources in this piece. I have tried to separate his quotes with pauses and a change in reading tone. You might want to glance at the actual words as you listen for clarification.

Here is the text of the reading:

What would we not give for some great poem to read now, which
would be in harmony with the scenery,–for if men read aright,
methinks they would never read anything but poems. No history nor
philosophy can supply their place.

Continue reading …

National Poetry Month has Begun

by Editor

It’s National Poetry Month!  That means that bookstores, publishers and bloggers all over the U.S. and elsewhere are celebrating poetry in all its forms.  There’s a poem-a-day series that will email you one poem each day for the entire month.  Poets.org has instructions for teachers trying to motivate students to enjoy poetry in the classroom and tips for bookstores trying to sell poetry.

The video is from W. W. Norton publishers who decided to ask eleven of their published poets what poetry is for.  Their answers are incredibly bad, but it’s a good try.  It should be abundantly clear from these poets’ answers that there is very little actual thought going on about what poetry is for.

Here’s my answer:  Poetry is for bread.

But here’s a guy named Charles Bernstein who says that National Poetry Month is a bad thing.  He says it encourages the most bland of easy-reading poetry available to make people think poetry is safe to read.  He’s right.  And so what?  So people read some bland crappy poems.  That is what most poetry is.  That’s realistic.  Perhaps a few of those people will have the energy to go out and find the real, hard, evolving, beautiful and terrifying poetry that would never even stoop to asking, ‘What is poetry for?’