Sunday, March 20, 2005
for our upcoming
... wonder if they need any firey
cool carmelite poets...
reading calvino's if on a winter's
night a traveller... not listening to enough music... waiting
for something... someone... cold coffee... that perfect moment
to chop out the old garden... pictures... monsters... and barthes'
"the death of the author"... and about to begin the
iceman cometh... strangely uninterested... watched most of
the horse whisperer with jay last night...who said o to
look that good at seventy...and i said we will, jay, we will...
thinking if only we can get ahold of that cinematographer...
discovered the haskell wexler audio commentary on the cheap...
standard format yuck... who's afraid of virginia woolf?
dvd... and it's a hoot...
Saturday, March 19, 2005
i'm thinking that chip kidd's poster
for National Poetry
is one of the best ever...
Friday, March 18, 2005
what's with blogger... yesterday this
one wouldn't go... today it's fyp... what's with blogger
Thursday, March 17, 2005
one of my students
understands my true identity...To
me, the stanza itself is like a miniature poem, it can be stand-alone,
or it can be used like Legos. By stacking them upon on another,
one could create a super-poem, or an even better metaphor would
be the seperate parts of Voltron, and when you combine all the
stanzas, different in each of it's own respective way, yet all
fitting together, until they do form the ultimate-fighting machine,
or in fact, the ultimate-poem, Poemtron.
"Let's go Poemtron force!"
... a teacher's site
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
alright... i'm supposed to be elsewhere...
but i'm done with that... now looking at the far end of this classroom...
i notice the books i set up as samples for the sophomores who
are beginning to design book jackets for huckleberry finn... those
books over there are propped up like a raggedy fence... full of
color and interest... if i were a student i'd want to pick them
up... how much of the world's color is there... the bright blue
sky on ryman's WAS... the aquamarine of the gulf of mexico for
fuentes' The Old Gringo... the blood red smudge of larry rivers'
What Did I Do?... the foggy pale brown ash of aidan chambers'
Postcards from No Man's Land... if i were a sophomore i'd want
to make some of this beautiful stuff... of my own...
at dp TODAY... Poetry
Daily: John Latta, "Umbrage"
...Smack in midst of sun-
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
New York Times > Theater > Critic's Notebook: The Mother
of Us All (All of Us Modernists)
made stage directions into dialogue and spoken dialogue into songlike
rhymes. An act or scene could be a sentence long. She used nonsense
poetry and drawing-room declamation. She was a comic artist, even
when the subject was serious. A jester who created her own court.
just this moment finished the third quarter
grading... feel like a weary old dog... sorta
Monday, March 14, 2005
Christian Century Magazine: Good Work
Berry is a farmer and not a pastor. How are we to read him as
a pastoral theologian when he has an ambiguous connection with
the church? Berry is technically a member of New Castle Baptist
Church, where he was baptized; he attends worship with his wife,
Tanya, at Port Royal Baptist Church. He remembers going to church
as a boy with his grandfather, and now his own grandchildren attend
with him. But while Tanya is a church deacon and a board member
at the new Kentucky Baptist Seminary in Lexington, Berry's relationship
to the church may be more like that of his fictional character
Jayber Crow, who attends church but sits in the back pew.
t j b l
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