Posts

Showing posts from December, 2011

A sonnet, on demand

For my Facebook friends who wanted to see the Parisian sonnet I mentioned... The poem appeared in the latest issue of the International Poetry Review, one dedicated to contemporary poetry from Romania. Since 1975, this fine publication has been bringing together poetry from around the globe, in the original language and in translation, as well as poetry from English-speaking realms. Mark Smith-Soto edits this journal, with the able assistance of a number of associate, consulting, and guest editors. The journal is published out of UNC-Greensboro. A two-issue subscription is $12. For more information about the magazine, visit this webpage. S o - this sonnet - based on a December stay in an apartment in the Second Arrondissement, a place of amazing contrasts and a low incidence of tourists! 2 nd Honeymoon Moonlight on watered cobbles of Montorgueil: limp endive, aging coquilles , cigarettes bob down the gutter . “My feet,” I plead, hobble past cave et bou...
Image
Poetry, Wordsworth said, is emotion recollected in tranquility. For a definition of "tranquility," see the W eymouth Center for the Arts and Humanities. Home to the North Carolina Literary Hall of Fame and home base for the North Carolina Poetry Society , Weymouth Center has a busy calendar of chamber music, garden events, and lectures. Those occupy the ground floor and the surrounding terraces and gardens. But for a writer, Weymouth is upstairs. The second floor of the historic home - actually two homes joined together, plus - has several rooms for writers to just write. Nothing else. Just write. I joined the elect earlier this month, when I spent five days at the Southern Pines center. North Carolina writers have completed more than 600 residencies there - if all were as productive as mine, then we have Weymouth to thank for many, many books. I sat at my desk in the Paul Green room, overlooking the gardens with their bare architectural trees and winter-blooming...