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Rob Neufeld commented on Deborah Worley-Holman's photo
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Peter McClay "M.C." Worley

"Great photo, Deborah!  Have you got some stories and details?"
yesterday
Rob Neufeld posted discussions
Sunday
Christine Lajewski posted a blog post

Discussing JHATOR at UCC in Norwell, MA

JHATOR was chosen as the summer read for the book club at the United Church of Christ in Norwell, MA.  Today, the Rev. Deborah Spratley hosted an author's brunch and discussion of the book with me and members of both the book club and writer's group at the church.One of the first things I learned from the group members, who are approaching the book from a Christian POV, is that starting the book with Anat, the vulture, was unsettling for most of them.  Of course, that is the point of Chapter…See More
Sunday
Rob Neufeld posted discussions
Saturday
Jerald Pope posted an event
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The Backyard as Metaphor: Poems on Cattle, Gardening & Goats: a Poetry Reading and Discussion with Tina Barr at Monte Vista Hotel

August 21, 2014 from 5:45pm to 7pm
The Black Mountain Author’s Guild will present nationally known poet, Tina Barr, this Third Thursday at 6pm at the Monte Vista Hotel. Ms. Barr will read a twenty minute series of poems set in Black Mountain, and will follow the reading with a discussion of her process for generating ideas in poems, with lots of audience interaction.  She will bring in a series of drafts demonstrating her revision process, from rough draft to published poem, and talk about fictionalizing elements so they move…See More
Aug 12
Doris Anne Beaulieu posted a blog post

Wishing Witch

Wishing WitchMy Halloween screenplay is funny as can be It’s funny how witchcraft is what we need to seeBrewing up trouble with all your classmates The teacher will get angry, make no mistakeCrazy riddles from a child can be so scary Being her classmate leaves you feeling waryYou may start a princess and end as a boar As her riddles will leave you in an uproarWill you return to normal after all this nonsense Is the question that has everyone in suspenseYou may not have believed in the…See More
Aug 11
City Lights Bookstore posted an event
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Timm Muth to Present His Fantasy Novel at City Lights Bookstore

August 30, 2014 from 3pm to 4:30pm
Jackson County resident, Timm Muth will read from and sign his new fantasy novel on Saturday, August 30th at 3 p.m. at City Lights Bookstore.  Disciple of the Flames chronicles the story of Darn, whose life as a herder’s son was hard, dirty and not in the least adventurous. Fate intervenes when on a journey with his father, a stranger saves Darn from a near fatal rousting by local bullies, eventually leading to Darn’s induction into a powerful religious and military order: The Disciple of…See More
Aug 9
Malaprop's Bookstore Cafe posted events
Aug 9
Doris Anne Beaulieu posted blog posts
Aug 7
Sharon Gruber posted an event
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Social Function of Narrative in Appalachian Society with Charlotte Ross at Ferguson Auditorium - A-B Tech Campus

August 9, 2014 from 2pm to 3:30pm
Presented by the Asheville History Center - Smith McDowell House in conjunction with the exhibition Hillbilly Land:  Myth and Reality of Appalachian Culture currently on view at the Smith McDowell House. Made possible through a grant from the North Carolina Humanities Council.See More
Aug 6
Caralyn Davis posted a blog post

New Essay Published at Dr. TJ Eckleburg Review

My new essay "A Damn Fine Female Body Part" is live at the Doctor TJ Eckleburg Review. It is NSFW, covering the topics of curse words, sexual objectification, and the actor Norman Reedus of The Walking Dead, all in under 2,000 words! See More
Aug 5
Deborah Worley-Holman posted a photo

Peter McClay "M.C." Worley

My grandfatherm M.C. Worley 1894-1983 who was a musician and instrument maker.
Aug 5
Dave Turner posted a blog post
Aug 4
Rob Neufeld posted a discussion

Book discussions in WNC, August 2014

WNC BOOK DISCUSSION CALENDAR, AUGUST 2014Friday, August 1BOOK CLUB: The Best? Books book club holds a book discussion at the College Walk Retirement Center, 100 N. College Row, Brevard, 10:30 a.m. Call 884-3151, ext. 226.Saturday, August 2 Sunday, August 3ROYAL BOOK CLUB: The ROYAL Book Club meets to discuss “Darius and Twig” by…See More
Aug 3
Doris Anne Beaulieu posted a blog post

Read All About It

READ ALL ABOUT ITStories all of 100 years old Bribery And Blackmail They have to be retoldDefinitions of words have surely changed as Kilts And Reefers are now explained.Two Kinds Of Success stories That Work Both Ways Stealing From Citiesand the Faithful Toby wayNo Poison In The Wallpaper is History Rewritten With A Humble Helperand Powerful CompetitionLike a Scene In A Play The Counterpane Got Smutty He Raised The Bid todaywas a story so funnyStriking A Light was crazy amazing but Obeying The…See More
Aug 3
Christine Lajewski posted a blog post

New web site posting

"When the Thief Gets Old," an update on Jet at Christine-lajewski.squarespace.comSee More
Aug 2

Asheville Poetry Review informs the world

by Rob Neufeld

 

            “In times like these,” Newton Smith writes in the new issue of Asheville Poetry Review (APR), “when men and women are dying miserably everywhere, and when politicians and nations have lost all dignity and compassion, it is time to turn to poems.”

            The 22nd issue of the Asheville-based, internationally read journal comes through again with a representation of what’s vital in the field. 

            Does poetry fill a critical need, as many of the contributors declare?  That’s not an easy argument.  Poems do not teach you how to change a tire, though they may teach you how to change tiredness.

 

Beginning with the fetus

 

            Becky Gould Gibson’s poem, “Heading Home,” 2012 winner of the William Matthews Poetry Prize (given by the APR) takes you on a journey from conception to birth with a world of prayer.

            “The jig is up…You’re past blastocyst,” she tells a fetus.  Gibson’s at-ease, intelligent voice talks street, science, and spirituality, as in her address to the baby when it’s 12 weeks in the womb: “And where’s original sin?/  Will it show up on your next sonogram?” 

            Seven months along, Gibson intones: “Stunning how badly we’ve managed Earth.  Yet/ you’ll find it stunningly beautiful,/ wrinkled in places like you.”  Ultimately, she announces: “Here you come in your craft plaited of reeds/ dragging a seine of bright constellations…Lung/ leaves the ocean of its origin, and/ you take your first breath on land.”

 

Very like a bat

 

            The second-place winner of the prize is also a magical expression of worldly caring

            “The young need the old,” Catherine Carter writes in her poem, “The Young.”  “You wouldn’t think it, to see/ them toss their hair silky as the ears/ of vampire bats, eyes not focused on anything/ you can see.”

            But “they need your/ time, your ear for their keening,” she continues, “your admiration/ and pity for their brashness/ and tenderness…Your approval, for the like of which many/ an adult still goes thirsty.”  So, we may forgive the hunger of the bat-like child, “its dainty fangs, its fingers for wings.”

            (See full poem below.)

 

Modest profession

 

            The late poet William Matthews, in whose honor his son, Asheville poet Sebastian Matthews, established the prize, is the subject of Robert Morgan’s elegy, “In Memory of William Matthews.”

            “Bill,/ wherever you are now, I’m sure/ you’re laughing at the way we poets/ take ourselves so seriously./  And I concede the fault, except/ I want to say I took you seriously/ and was not wrong,” Morgan writes.

            As he presents his loving memories like bouquets, Morgan hears Matthews snicker and say, “Send/ no flowers, bub, but maybe some good claret might not be unwelcome.”

            Like William Matthews, many contemporary poets have abandoned conventional Western lyricism for something that sounds more Eastern: lots of music, but not rhyming or strictly metered; with a freedom to shift voices, almost conversationally, and gifted with suggestive imagery.

 

Getting beyond human

 

            Sam Hamill translates a poem written by the eighth century Chinese poet, Li Po.

            “You ask why I live/ alone in the mountain forest,” the poem begins; and concludes, “I live in the other world,/ one that lies beyond the human.”

            One of the reasons that poets can speak to us in such a special way is that they have immersed themselves in lives of reading poetry; and can demonstrate the advantages of a poetic appreciation of life.

            “In her collection ‘Covet,’ Lynell Edwards manages to illuminate the small wonders of regular life,” Janice Moore Fuller reveals in her book review (one of 20 by various reviewers in the APR).

Edwards elevates ordinary things to the level of a mythical objects, Fuller writes.  “She also throws Wordsworth’s ‘certain coloring of imagination’ over ordinary actions.”

            Every rose has its thorn and, as Edwards’ book title suggests, a hunger for beauty brings with it a painful awareness of loss.  Is it folly to covet?  Or to love?

            One answer to those questions is that the poem makes a permanent flower of the dying flower because it comes alive every time you engage with it.  For those who love and grieve—and that has to be the most sensitive among us—poetry saves lives.

 

Saved from disaffection

 

            Poetry saved Sam Hamill, the Li Po translator, and a living stand-out in the boundary-crossing poetry world.

            The current issue of APR devotes 52 pages to Hamill, continuing its tradition of shining light on under-celebrated greats; and on representing world poetry as well as local roots (seven of the eight editors, including founder Keith Flynn, are Western North Carolinians; and the eighth is from Oak Ridge).

            In the late 1950s, Hamill had been a lost teen on the road in San Francisco when the late great Kenneth Rexroth took him under his wing.

            “I spent most of my days sleeping in Golden Gate Park and wandered at night between the Tenderloin and North Beach, searching cars for things to pawn or sell or trade,” Hamill told Lisa Morphew in an interview.

            “Then one crisp afternoon, I spent my last couple of bucks to buy ‘Thirty Spanish Poems of Love & Exile,’” Rexroth’s book of translations.  “I was standing outside City Lights (bookstore in San Francisco) when Rexroth came around the corner…I told him I wanted to be a great poet like him.”

            Rexroth let him stay at his home.  Hamill dried out.  He read through Rexroth’s library.  “It’s not an exaggeration to say,” Hamill says, “he not only shaped, but also saved my life.”

            Hamill has gone on to publish 14 volumes of poetry; and many other volumes of translations and essays.  He has taught in prisons and worked with battered woman and children.

            In 1972, he co-founded Copper Canyon Press, a heralded publisher of new works of poetry.

            Then, in 2003, Esteban Moore reports in his essay about Hamill, Hamill began to speak out against the war in Iraq.  He founded Poets against War.  Major newspapers and TV networks attacked him and “as a consequence, the board and sponsors of the publishing house he had founded asked him to resign his position there for its sake.”

            We wonder if and when poetry will assume the popular place it has had in other cultures and times.  The APR gives us a window into that effort, including with a good look at a hard-knocks-schooled iconoclast such as Hamill..

            “I’m simply not much moved by the stars of what I’ll call ‘workshop poetry,’” he told Morphew.  “The avant garde frankly bores me.”

THE BOOK

Asheville Poetry Review, vol. 19, no. 1, 2012, issue 22, $13.  Visit www.ashevillepoetryreview.com.

THE YOUNG

by Catherine Carter

Second place winner of the William Matthews Poetry Prize, published in Asheville Poetry Review, vol. 19, no. 1

The Young

for the new teachers

The young need the old.

You wouldn't think, to see

them toss their hair silky as the ears

of vampire bats, eyes not focused on anything

you can see.  You wouldn't think it

from the sound of the giggling

almost too high to hear, offering you less

notice than the cries of hunting

bats.  But the young

need you.  They need your

time, your ear for their keening

and chiming, even when it means nothing

you know.  Your admiration

and pity for their brashness

and tenderness, your abnegation

of what you hoped to do this hour,

which for either of you comes once

only.  Your approval, for the like of which many

an adult still goes thirsty, fifty

years on.  Your life drained out to feed

their unfocused need.  They drink

it like bats too, eternally beautiful for having

bathed in your blood like Bathory

countesses.  They do it helplessly,

as you do to your own beloved old,

who forgive you, helplessly

as you'll forgive these, as the weakening

cow forgives the hungry bat,

its dainty fangs, its fingers for wings.

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