"How Poems End" with Billy Collins - The Academy for Teachers
Vložit
- čas přidán 25. 05. 2020
- How Poems End with Billy Collins
Explore an approach to reading poetry that isn’t concerned so much with a poem’s meaning as it is with how a poem finds its way through itself, sometimes changing direction, sometimes pausing by the roadside, but especially with how a poem finds a way to conclude.
Billy Collins has a unique place in American letters. No poet since Robert Frost combines such high critical acclaim with such broad popular appeal. He served as Poet Laureate of the United States, his books break sales records, and his readings are often standing room only. His books include "Questions about Angels;" "The Art of Drowning;" "Picnic, Lightning;" "Taking off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes;" "Sailing Alone around the Room;" "Nine Horses;" "The Trouble with Poetry;" "Ballistics;" "Horoscopes for the Dead," "Aimless Love," and "The Rain in Portugal."
Class homework: docs.google.com/document/d/e/...
Enjoyed this very much! Thank you.
In writing a series of haiku's, I wrote this poem, with the visual, being in the mountain,s on a hike. (The mountain hike) - On, the path above, The mountain exposed, The light of heaven!,We walked.-In, the crater lake, The eye of the world, shown blue. And, fish swam their too !-Tree's of fur, tall, green. Touched, the cloud's with mist and dew, The sun shown bright smiles. - The Hiker's, loved this day. Heavy packs, tired feet, sore backs. Camped, in the ravine! - Fire danced, warmed are souls, Tired , after the climb stretched, and, reclined, on boughs pine. -Waking, to the sound, Owl, hooted in the stark night, Morning trail blazed, On. 😊😊😊
I always learn when I listen to Billy Collins.
this is superb ❤
This great. We need more Billy Collins content on CZcams.
3:55 that’s it! Finding an ending. The completion. Wow. How simple and true. 4:50 Frost reference ❤
An interesting, informative session for anbody interested in what makes a successful poem. BC developes his theme about the organic nature of a poem and does it have a reason to continue to the next line and so on. Fascinating stuff!
Fantastic!
He is holding my favorite pencil here. I bought a dozen!
I'm not a teacher. I subscribed. You now have 365 subscribers. I know you will grow.
This is very interesting 🤔
I really makes you think 🧐; I have a favorite author but: i will continue to Listen....
One of my favorites; however, he once used the term "Beatnik" in something he wrote, but never used that name which was made popular by Maynard G. Grebbs on the tv show: "The Many Loves of Doby Gillis." back in the 60's. Kerouac once stated that the word "Beat" -which we former Beats preferred - signified Beatitudes, but with the life style of that group...well I sorta doubt that definition applies.
Very much enjoyed your poems and reading. Your unique imagery and sometimes sense of humor engaged me throughout.
I, too, am a poet ( and fiction story writer which I’ll elaborate shortly) but for now let me say that I specialize in Japanese format i.e. haiku , senryu, tanka/kyoka, haibun.
I hope you don’t mind me reading a Tanka and a poem dedicated to Matshuo Bashō’s frog with added insightful commentary by the late AHA founder and poet Jane Reichhold who considered my haiku among her 10 favorite haiku of all time! What an honor.
Here’s the Bashō poem with Jane Reichhold’s insightful commentary:
Bashō’s frog
four hundred years
ripples
At first the idea of picking only 10 of my favorite haiku seemed a rather daunting task. How could I review all the haiku I have read in my life and decide that there were only 10 that were outstanding? Then realized I was already getting a steady stream of excellent haiku day by day through the AHA forum.
The puns and write-offs based on Basho's most famous haiku are so
numerous I would have said that nothing new could be said with this
method, but here Al Fogel proved me wrong. Perhaps part of my delight in this haiku lies in the fact that I agree with him. Here he is saying one thing
about realism-ripples are on a pond after a frog jumps in, but because it refers back to Basho and his famous haiku, he is also saying something about the haiku and authors who have followed him. We, and our work,
are just ripples while Basho holds the honor of inventing the idea of the sound of a frog leaping is the sound of water
As haiku spreads around the world, making ripples in more and larger
ponds, its ripples are wider-including us all. But his last word reminds us that we are ripples and our lives ephemeral. It will be the frogs that will remain.
~~
Now the tanka:
returning from
a Jackson Pollock
exhibition
I smear paint on my face
and turn into art
~~
Finally, the fictional story that I alluded to earlier should not only appeal to Afro-Americans but all individual and groups. that experience racial discrimination. It’s based on a true incident that took place in the 1950s and has an unexpected heartwarming ending that coincides with my own belief akin to Dr Martin Luther King’s in a non-violent approach and resolution to racism. Titled “ Eloise , Edna And The Chicken Coop”
ELOISE, EDNA & THE CHICKEN COOP
There was once a Black lady named Eloise who inherited from her grandmother a parcel of land in the suburbs of Compton California at a time when there was strong racial prejudice against women of color-especially those Black women who owned property in predominately white neighborhoods.
It happened there lived adjacent to Eloise’s land a white woman named Edna who did not like the fact that this Black woman owned land next to hers.
Eloise would try to be friendly because she believed Jesus when He said “Love Thy Neighbor” and to Eloise that meant even if your neighbor was unfriendly.
But whenever Eloise saw Edna, Edna would turn her back in disdain. In fact, ever since her husband died a decade ago, Edna became mean and unfriendly to everyone in the neighborhood.
But to Eloise, she was so hateful and full of animosity that one night when all the lights in Eloise home were off Edna went to her own backyard where she kept her chicken coop and gathered up all the manure and dumped it on Eloise land and upon her tomatoes and her greens and everything she was growing, in an attempt to destroy it.
And when Eloise realized the next morning that there was all this manure, instead of becoming angry, she decided to rake and mix it in with the soil and use it as fertilizer.
Every night Edna would dump the manure from her chicken coop litter box and Eloise would get up in the morning and turn it over and mix it.
This went on for almost a month until one morning Eloise noticed there was no manure in her yard.
Then one of the neighbors informed Eloise that Edna had fallen ill. But because Edna was so mean and unfriendly , no one came to see her when she was sick.
But when Eloise heard about Edna’s condition she picked the best flowers from her garden, walked to Edna’s house , knocked on her front door and when Edna opened the door, she was in complete shock that this Black woman who she had been so cruel to, would be the only neighbor to visit
her and bring flowers.
Edna was deeply moved by Eloise kindness.
Then Eloise handed the flowers to Edna who said,
“These are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen! Where’d you get them?”
Eloise replied,
“You helped me make them, Edna, because when you were dumping in my yard, I decided to plant some roses and use your manure as fertilizer.“
This genuine act of kindness opened the floodgate of Edna’s heart that had been closed for so long.
“When I’m feeling better, I would love to have you over for tea,” Edna told Eloise.
“Thank you, “ Edna replied, assuring her she would come. And then added, “I will pray for your speedy recovery every night.”
And with those words Eloise departed.
It’s amazing what can blossom from manure.
There are some who allow manure to fall on them and do nothing.
But then there are others-like Eloise -who “turn the other cheek” when abused or in this case “turn over the soil” to make something new like those bevy of beautiful red roses that opened a white woman’s
heart.
~~
-All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida,
-Alu
Great stuff! I loved the haiku about the frog! I’ll have to return here and watch the video some other time; but reading your comment was a good way to learn about literature and the craft of writing✌️
Thank you for posting this.
1] Is the handout for the class available? (Or at least the list of poems?)
2] Are the other lectures in series available? (Or will they be?)
Hi Nichael, we are uploading more of our master classes each week!
And the homework poems are available here docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vQtLaitF__H60zsif6RKNifHjJmQJFoqzKdRQ6sc32oeF4onN3ClV_LzEG_oakgKav5bS1fWOEGnprp/pub (also added to the description)
Thanks for watching!
6
8
How
Will this poem
end?
Will it rhyme
friend?
Will it set
a sun?
Will it bang
a gun?
I never know
I guess
That's just how
goes
Brief Bio:
I’m Al Fogel born in 1945 and at an early age began writing poems. In 1962 I was introduced to a neighbor who just returned from Avatar Meher Baba’s “ East west” gathering and handed me a book titled “The Everything and the Nothing” that included brief but powerful passages by Meher Baba that touched me deeply and i became a “ Baba Lover” I continued writing poems and in 2010 while on Jane Reichhold’s AHA website workshopping poems I befriended a Chinese man who helped me perfect my Senryu and Haibun.
Subsequently I am now considered one of the nations leading authorities on Tanka , Senryu, and Haibun.
Here are some examples of each of my specialties
senryu
~
dentist chair
the hygienist removes
my Bluetooth
~
Internet argument
all his words in CAPS
hers in EMOTICONS
~
after the divorce
he spends more time
at the dollar store
~
damsel in distress
clarke kent still searching
for a phone booth
~
cauliflower ears
once a contender
now boxing vegetables
~
under
the influence -
moonshine
~
Audubon sale
all variety of seeds. . .
early birds welcome
~
Buddhist fortune cookie
the unfolded paper reads
“ better luck next birth!”
~
sudden downpour. . .
the adults run
for shelter
** as you can see, senryu is usually humorous, but it can also be serious. For example, the following two of mine are horrific and heartbreaking ( dealing with the Holocaust):
~
cattle cars
between the slats
human eyes
~
stutthof -
the stench of burnt hair
from the chimneys
~
Tanka ( I already posted the Jackson Pollock one about painting his face but here’s another Tanka
~
Here is another Tanka:
thrift store purchase
inside the leather jacket
a tarnished half-heart
~
Haibuns
The Mathematics of Retribution
“Karma is i fathomable,”
I inform her
It’s late and our conversation turns heavy
“ Seems simple to me, “my girlfriend responds.
“If I murder you, then it’s reasonable that I will be murdered in this or another life to balance the ledger.”
“ Not necessarily so” I’m quick to rejoin.
“What if you murdered me in this life
because I murdered you in a prior life
karmic debts and dues are now equalized.”
“But what if I get caught and I go to jail for life. Where’s the equal payback in that?”
“As I said, karma is unfathomable.”
We continue discussing reincarnation and then add the possibilities of “group karma” to the mix
Finally, at about midnight, we fall asleep
Stutthof -
the stench of burnt hair
from the chimneys
~~
Mama
There were days when I pretended to be too sick to go to school - - just for mamas loving embrace -her arms the heat of home
Even with the onset of dementia, her cheerfulness was so contagious it was a joy being around her despite the illness.
She made everyone laugh with her spontaneous unpredictable behavior.
nursing home
bumper wheelchair
her favorite pastime
Once a week I would whisk her away from the assisted-living facility and we would spend several hours together -grabbing a meal or frequenting some of her favorite second-hand stores where she loved to shop and donate clothes.
When we drove to her favorite thrift in November, her dementia worsened.
thrift store
the dress mama donated
she wants to buy
On a cold December morn mama passed.
The funeral was simple. There was a light drizzle as the family gathered at the gravesite. One by one, with eyes full of rain, we said our last goodbyes.
autumn twilight -
oh mama tuck me under
hug me one more time
~
‘Round Midnight
It was a huge ballroom on the top floor of a building on Broadway --an important midtown crossroads in the heart of the Great White Way.
My uncle still talks with reverence about how -in his heyday -he would travel by rail to the corner of Lenox and walk inside to the beat of jungle music. Who knew what to expect? One night you might be listening with rapt attention to Theloneous Monk and Dizzy Gillespie the godfathers of bebop in their signature beret caps, or the Nicholas Brothers flashing their wild acrobatic spins and splits, or enchanted by the sweet taste of Brown Sugar -with Bojangles out front. And when the Bird was in flight, even the moon was not high enough.
But in 1940 the ballroom closed its doors to make way for a commercial housing development and another kind of night.
new Harlem
the a-train replaced
by the bullet
~
Atlantic City New Jersey
I had just graduated from high school
I remember stopping for saltwater taffy -as evening journeyed slowly into night. Nearing curfew, we sat on a protruded sandy enclave--holding hands, looking out at the ocean, not saying much. In the distance the lights from an ocean liner flickered as the night kept coming on in...
first “french kiss”
under the boardwalk
“over the moon!”
~~
All love,
Al
Lol this comment section epitomizes the public aversion to poetry
this is excellent....but completely wrong about Shakespeare NOT knowing the next lines, or any writer....in that they can often be finished in your head before you grab a pen; there are many instances of this almost automatic writing or spontaneous expression
Wow! Never happened to me in poems, essays, fiction, memoir I wrote. Why write if you know already. Writing for me is about discovery.
well, it just gets worse.....in that we fall into elaborate and evocative language tacked upon just a pile of thoughts....this is modern poetry? what happened?...accessibility for the fools, spoon feeding to be intelligible to Morxxs ( and that expression and sentiment was by great american educator)