various... a few reflections on poetry in mid-October

What's poetry about?

Kim Addonizio's poem about Book Burning... which shifts into the first person POV, leaving me (one reader) behind. How different from Dorianne's poem about the Beatles...why they broke up, using titles of their songs... Or the Kooser selection about the Woman putting her crying baby to sleep. How the baby does the crying, and she doesn't yet with so much to cry about.

And so I wrote a poem about "putting America to sleep".
What is it we "tuck in" our days, our dreams, our lives?

And then there's the bop poem...
and the object poem :

Objects: Those things in the backgrounds of our pictures, cluttering our bookshelves and stuffed in drawers. We’re collecting their stories here—to celebrate and remember the strange intimacies of life with ordinary objects. Tell us a good story and we’ll make sure everyone else enjoys it too.

Read the guidelines and email submissions to lifewithobjects@gmail.com.

And the brilliant first chapter of "Little Bee": Chris Cleave

Most days I wish I was a British pound coin instead of an African girl.
 everyone pleased to see me coming
 if spent, not longed for.
 can go wherever it thinks afest
 disguise as power/property’
 has tricks

and a sound poem...

Wind

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the winter stark,
Oh the level dark,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the mystery
Of the blasted tree
On the wold, the wold, the wold!

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the owlet's croon
To the haggard moon,
To the waning moon,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the fleshless stare,
Oh the windy hair,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the cold sigh,
Oh the hollow cry,
The lean and hollow cry,
On the wold, the wold, the wold!

Oh the wold, the wold,
Oh the wold, the wold!
Oh the white sight,
Oh the shuddering night,
The shivering shuddering night,
On the wold, the wold, the wold

**
All good triggers for poems...