Oh,Katherine I feel you’re very bad
I saw  you were in Starbucks with a cad
Why, you should be home to wash the floors
Not discussing Dirac, Joyce,  or More.

Katherine,  your readers  you’ll annoy
All  your poetry is just a ploy
You really want to teach them how to prove
Pi is not a number  one can use.

Katherine, is this a clerihew?
Why should we use google, we have you
Yet you do look somewhat pale
As if you have been left out in a gale

https://poets.org/text/conversing-world-poet-society

EXTRACT

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/andrew-marvell

EXTRACT

Andrew Marvell is surely the single most compelling embodiment of the change that came over English society and letters in the course of the 17th century. In an era that makes a better claim than most upon the familiar term transitional, Marvell wrote a varied array of exquisite lyrics that blend Cavalier grace with Metaphysical wit and complexity. He first turned into a panegyrist for the Lord Protector and his regime and then into an increasingly bitter satirist and polemicist, attacking the royal court and the established church in both prose and verse. It is as if the most delicate and elusive of butterflies somehow metamorphosed into a caterpillar.

To be sure, the judgment of Marvell’s contemporaries and the next few generations would not have been such. The style of the lyrics that have been so prized in the 20th century was already out of fashion by the time of his death, but he was a pioneer in the kind of political verse satire that would be perfected by his younger contemporary John Dryden and in the next generation by Alexander Pope (both writing for the other side)—even as his satirical prose anticipated the achievement of Jonathan Swift in that vein. Marvell’s satires won him a reputation in his own day and preserved his memory beyond the 18th century as a patriotic political writer—a clever and courageous enemy of court corruption and a defender of religious and political liberty and the rights of Parliament. It was only in the 19th century that his lyrical poems began to attract serious attention, and it was not until T.S. Eliot’s classic essay (first published in March 1921), marking the tercentenary of Marvell’s birth, that Marvell attained recognition as one of the major lyric poets of his age.

https://arcade.stanford.edu/content/poetry-and-sociality-global-frame

Extract

Dowdy, Michael. 2013. Broken Souths: Latina/o Poetic Responses to Neoliberalism and Globalization. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. $30.00 sc. 296 pp.

Furani, Khaled. 2012. Silencing the Sea: Secular Rhythms in Palestinian Poetry. Stanford: Stanford University Press. $55.00 hc. 312 pp.

A formidable hermeticism has long held sway over Anglophone poetry criticism. While criticism of other literary genres expands its grasp, most notably into new sociological approaches to literature, knowledge of the tropes and schemes of poetry serves as a border check for those interested in poetic criticism, slowing contemporary poetry’s reception, inhibiting pedagogy, and operating in general like a canon of revealed truths. Generally speaking, to read poetry means to learn the history of poetic devices and to recognize the various appearances (or absences) of this history in an individual poem: why a line break works the way it does, why a metaphor appears where it does. But these claims about poetic design do not only represent a neutral language specific to literary study or a convenient mechanism for distinguishing between traditional and avant-garde strands of poetry. By attributing a private and individual, rather than global and material, foundation to the aesthetics of poetry, such claims also prevent poetry from being recognized as a social form. As a result, canonical notions of line, verse, and enjambment are theorized as though poetry developed and continues to develop in monastic seclusion from the political economies and emergent precarities of modern global capitalism.

No sustained analysis exists in which the history of poetry and poetics is reread in the light of the history of globalization. Books on Anglophone poetry in particular have been cautious in adopting a postcolonial, global, or transnational critical perspective and, in general, complacent in upholding the immutable value of a small set of formal devices and traditions. Within this tradition, however, there are critics who are moving toward a global and socially attuned poetics. Jahan Ramazani’s The Hybrid Muse (2001) and A Transnational Poetics (2009) link poetic tropes of metaphor and figures of irony with theories and themes of hybridity, migration, and exile in postcolonial Anglophone poetry. After Ramazani, the Jamaican poets Claude McKay and Louise Bennett can no longer be treated as marginal, neither to postcolonial studies nor to poetry, while the Irish poet W. B. Yeats and the Trinidadian poet Derek Walcott, who are already the subjects of a voluminous critical corpus, appear newly relevant.

Another extract

Furani and Dowdy are not troubled or anxious to establish their credentials through the Anglophone poetic tradition. Instead, their work provides ways outside the existing tradition and methodologies from which Anglophone critics might learn. In Silencing the Sea: Secular Rhythms of Palestinian Poetry, Furani, an anthropologist, argues that aesthetic innovations in post-1948 Palestinian poetry must be understood in relation to ethical and political “craftings of the self” (2012, 2): “I have been able to see the poetic tradition as caught in the formation and contestation of truth and subject formations in a particular society, rather than as an insular unraveling of beauty and imagination” (3). In Furani’s account, poetic meter and religion are the two critical axes for understanding Palestinian poetry in the second half of the twentieth century. The history of Palestinian verse, Furani argues, is one that links traditional meter with religion and the break from traditional meter with the rise of secularism as “a dominant fragmentary formation in ways of knowing and being in the modern era” (19). While Furani’s work introduces many poets who will be virtually unknown to those well versed in other poetic traditions, it also culminates in a powerful critique of secularism for its elevation of self-sovereignty and its claims that truth can only be found in the visible (246). Furani concludes by stressing the need “to think fully through the secular demands sensing the frailty buried under its claims of sovereignty” (248).

The most striking aspects of Silencing the Sea are the structure of argument Furani creates and the methodology he employs. The first section of the book, “Initiations,” introduces readers to the theoretical, formal, and institutional frameworks of the study by giving overviews of secularism, forms of Arabic poetry, and poetry festivals in post-1948 Palestine

https://www.diffen.com/difference/Poetry_vs_Prose

I

Read more by clicking the link

Algebra has made  an impression
The opposite of a depression
What value is X
Is it something like Sex?
Bring back the days of repression

Topology  is hard to explain
Rubber sheets,  here’s geometry again
Would it be better
To write you a letter
As long a I show no disdain

Doing the tax form is hard
What income  have I ever declared?
I do have my pension
Will I get detention
For spending it all  at the Fair?

I see an equation go by
I   say, never focus your eye
Or  you may try to solve it
Or even dissolve it
I’m truthful; I never tell lies

What we are reading this month:

The Duty of Genius by Ray Monk

[ a biography of Wittgenstein  and  descriptiions  of the era  he lived through]

Cheap as a kindfle book and I have read it 7 times already/

On the surface of our self we dwell
Mysterious the dark  the ignored, heart
Till we have an accident, are ill

We’re like a little snail without its shell
Trodden on by others we depart
Oh surface  living paves the way to Hell

We climb our way up the consumer’s hill
Filling up our trolley  as we walk
Till we have an accident, are ill

Imagination  helps us more than  Will
Oh, to be in Dorset, sea and lark
On the surface of  this place we dwell

When at last we die, where is the bill
Where the confrontation wise and stark?
When down  comes a  new virus, we are ill

Oh, pain, oh fear.,  surrender  now the will
Intuition tells us  to be still
On the surface of our self we dwell
We  think that we are living very well

“‘Normality,’ says Howe, ‘is the paradise of escapologists, for it is a fixation concept, pure and simple.’ ‘It is better, if we can,’ he asserts, ‘to stand alone and to feel quite normal about our abnormality, doing nothing whatever about it, except what needs to be done in order to be oneself.’

E Graham Howe

In a rage we break our treasures  fine
The china  gold, the artwork, worse…. a friend
Possessed by envy, hatred,  thoughts malign

Little children scream,no, that is mine
When we’re older wisdom might descend
Still in a rage we break our treasures  fine

We are human beings, not divine
We make an error, should that be the end;
Possessed by envy, hatred,  thoughts malign?

After we have   broken friendship’s lines
When in grief our  best garments we rend
So  in a rage we break our treasures  fine

Later in regret we  see we’re blind
And it’s too late to  make or do or mend
 Ruled by envy, hatred,  thoughts malign

Inside ourself ,  do know we ‘ve sinned?
Weep and weep , this  seems to be the end
In a rage we broke our treasures  fine
Now we live in  imprisoned ,unresigned.

• Wind blows soft on my bare arms
  I ride through deep green woods.
  These simple pleasures still I love,
  Air on my skin feel good.
  The wind shakes leaves for  sidelong sun
  To make her  pictures from.
  So much, so rich the offerings
  This is senses’ realm.
  Alone in woods, I plight my troth
  To earth and gods thereof.
  I sing my own sweet melodies,
  To solitude and love.
  Far from the maddening crowds of folk,
  I hear earth’s own true songs.
  And then refreshed by woodland charms,
  I feel at peace from wrongs
  Inside my heart,there is a wood,
  And there I shall now dwell.
  And so I’ll solve the mystery,
  Of how we can live well .
  Each wood has its  special birds
  On tree tops in sunlight.
  And each wood has its special song,
  And each wood has its sights.
  I shall accept the mystery
  Of who has made my wood;
  And how we are all joined bodily,
  All sharing this green blood.
  Deep down we go into our hearts,
  To find out who we are.
  Just at the deepest,quietest parts
  We find all beings there.
  

I once knew a lady called Jane,
Who found writing poems a pain.
She took out her pen,
And tried to write when
All the fuses blew out in her brain.

Jane studied  mirrors and magnets.
She’s always been well versed in gadgets.
But to do it to yourself,
Is not good for your health.
You need to pay Freud for some magic,

Some days are sad and blue
And then we feel lonely too;
Or we cause rifts.

Joy is not far away.
Joy will return one day
With life’s arts and crafts

GRIEF IN THE USA

Authorities had not yet officially named the suspects in either shooting, but local law enforcement sources in El Paso named the shooter there as Patrick Crusius. Police were also examining a hate-riddled message on the website 8chan, posted around 20 minutes before Saturday’s attack, in which the author expressed sympathy for a white nationalist massacre at mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, a few months ago, and which stated: “This attack is a response to the Hispanic invasion of Texas.”

By late Sunday morning, the US president, who is spending the weekend at his golf resort in Bedminster, New Jersey, had not addressed the nation in person, with a statement from the White House saying: “Our Nation mourns with those whose loved ones were murdered in the tragic shootings in El Paso, Texas, and Dayton, Ohio, and we share in the pain and suffering of all those who were injured in these two senseless attacks. We condemn these hateful and cowardly acts.”

https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/the-me-in-we/201806/paranoid-schizoid-and-reparative-states

EXTRACT

Effective reparation also involves a distinct form of guilt, one that is not so overwhelming as to induce despair and humiliation. This is a not a punitive or persecutory guilt, but guilt of a different sort. Carveth puts it this way, “If I injure someone and while he bleeds I self-flagellate, that is punitive guilt; but if I put down my cat-o-nine-tails and reach for my first-aid kit and start bandaging, that is reparative guilt.” 

The reparative state marks our move to moral insight and development, and the ability of the child to distinguish between kind and cruel actions. 

I was angry with the cat ,  she bit my leg
I was angry with the kettle, it was slow
I was angry with  the lawn, it needs a mow
So I poured  my  violent rage on you instead

I am angry with the weather, it’s too hot
I am angry with the government  .it’s bad
If I don’t feel angry I get sad
I  throw my pain at you like a gunshot

I have no friends left,I am going mad
They all hate me,I don’t know for what
Is this Hell,I certainly feel hot
Do you think I acted like a cad?

I love you  dearest, please let me come back
I   did not mean  to make your eyes turn black

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/145052/the-choice-of-constraint

EXTRACT

In constrained writing, one writes under a condition. That condition might mean not being allowed to do something—such as not using the letter e—or following a certain pattern. If this definition seems broad, it is. All formal writing operates under some kind of constraint; a traditional sonnet, for example, asks you to manage meter and a rhyme scheme in 14 lines. In this essay, we’ll look at less-familiar uses of constraint, ones that will challenge you in different ways. It may seem counterintuitive to put limitations on your writing, but you may find that a small constraint can make a big difference in soothing your fears of the blank page. It does so by taking some choices away and by demanding that you make new choices.

To illustrate this, I’d like to look at one of my favorite constraints—the abecedarian. Abecedarians are poems in which the first letter of each line or stanza follows the alphabet: A, then B, and so on. The abecedarian is an ancient form; it may be as old as the alphabet itself. You can find abecedarians in the Bible, though you’d have to see Psalm 119 in the original Hebrew to notice that each section is headed by a letter from the Hebrew alphabet (Aleph, Beth, Gimel …). Contemporary poets have used the alphabet constraint on a grand scale, creating long poems, such as Carolyn Forche’s “On Earth,” and even throughout entire books, such as Inger Christensen’s alphabetand Harryette Mullen’s Sleeping with the Dictionary.

We

Scilly Isles