I read this article on NPR from New York Times poetry columnist David Orr a couple of days ago. In the article Orr discusses his new book Beautiful and Pointless, Harper, 25.99. In it Orr looks at modern poetry and why reading it may, or may not matter.
The book's purpose was not to highlight his favorite poets per se but to encourage people to discover poetry and different themes and thereby find for themselves poets who inspire the reader to read poetry.
To buy his book click here. I can't help but agree that even if poetry is an under-appreciated (if not completely outdated) art form, when someone discovers for themselves the power of a poets words it can be a powerful thing.
Case in point:
What is Poetry
by Lawrence Felinghetti
art by Frederic Amat (see above picture)
House of Anansi Press
24.95.
Ferlinghetti's book was first published in 2007 as Poetry as an Insurgent Art, Amat has created art specifically to go with this limited edition book. It is a completely inspired way of looking at Ferlinghetti's words and drives home the point that when one discovers poetry or writing of any kind that resonates with the reader doors are opened and worlds are discovered.
Come down to the Odyssey and check it out, it really is one of the coolest books I've read this year!
Paz,
Nieves
Constantly Risking Absurdity (#15)
Constantly risking absurdity
and death
whenever he performs
above the heads
of his audience
the poet like an acrobat
climbs on rime
to a high wire of his own making
and balancing on eyebeams
above a sea of faces
paces his way
to the other side of day
performing entrechats
and sleight-of-foot tricks
and other high theatrics
and all without mistaking
any thing
for what it may not be
For he's the super realist
who must perforce perceive
taut truth
before the taking of each stance or step
in his supposed advance
toward that still higher perch
where Beauty stands and waits
with gravity
to start her death-defying leap
And he
a little charleychaplin man
who may or may not catch
her fair eternal form
spreadeagled in the empty air
of existence
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