From time to time, believe it or not, I receive spam comments through my little blog site. They are often poorly written, sometimes hilariously so. And they remain a complete mystery to me: Where do they come from? What is their purpose? What could the originator of the message, be it a real live human orContinue reading “#167: Sir Spam A Lot (a found poem)”
Tag Archives: poem
#164: O Miranda
O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in’t. O Miranda O Miranda, I, too, have known tempests; I, too, have been separated from a father; I, too, know the feeling of beauty, goodness, or courage creeping through a bit atContinue reading “#164: O Miranda”
#163: Pastoral
I I’ve taught inside a classroom without windows for twenty-seven years. On the one hand, my work is done on the page and in the mind and with words moving through space between people in a room; through imagination and through language we bring the outside in. And yet, on the other hand, if IContinue reading “#163: Pastoral”
#162: Emerson’s The Poet (An Erasure)
Those umpires admired pictures beautiful souls They are selfish dry wood Some study of rules limited judgement It is a proof of beauty that men seem to put into our bodies the spirit and the organ the germination
#158: Shopping for Records on the Anniversary of Paul Revere’s Ride
On the 240th anniversary of Paul Revere’s ride, I ride to Music Millennium for Record Store Day. I wait in line for an hour to get inside and while I wait I see a former student of mine whose friend (just along for the journey) is offered $100 by some dude with an ankle injury toContinue reading “#158: Shopping for Records on the Anniversary of Paul Revere’s Ride”
#156: The Desire to Write a Terzanelle
The desire to write a terzanelle runs smack dab up against too much shit to do as well. I don’t want to feel incensed, about constantly fighting time, running smack dab up against the incessant daily grind and all of my complaining about constantly fighting time. The afternoon is waning and pretty soon it will be darkContinue reading “#156: The Desire to Write a Terzanelle”
#154: A Dialogue?
Student: This class sucks. It’s boring. All we do in here is read and write and talk. And I have no idea why I’m failing. I can’t find my pencil. Could I borrow a piece of paper? When can we watch a movie? Oh my god, I just got a text and I have toContinue reading “#154: A Dialogue?”
#151: Mistakes Are Made
Publishing on the fly is like this: I make premature postings, find typographical errors, inappropriate emoji, or worse, one or two times I’ve accidentally liked myself. While attempting a poem with my phone, mistakes are made and become immediately public– my dumb ass on display for the whole world, or, at least, the tiny fraction of it that’s actuallyContinue reading “#151: Mistakes Are Made”
#145: Flying by the Seat of My Pants
Flying by the Seat of My Pants It’s Easter, and I’m flying by the seat of my pants, winging it, making it up as I go along, which is, really, what I’ve been doing all along, each day, each moment: flying by the seat of my pants. Bonus Commentary: I improvised this silly little poemContinue reading “#145: Flying by the Seat of My Pants”
#140: I Was Raised By. . .
Another mentor text, this time the one we used with our freshmen, to inspire poetry about who or what we credit for “raising” us. The wonderful thing about using a mentor text, learning explicitly the moves of a writer we admire, is that all the 14 year olds end up writing these lively, effective poems.Continue reading “#140: I Was Raised By. . .”
michael jarmer 