Sandpiper

My latest verse has been published thanks to Rusty Barnes and Heather Sullivan at their tremendous Live Nude Poems. Thanks in advance for reading!

The Inconsiderate

My latest verse has been published. I hope you find some time to take a look. 

The Tyger

Painter, poet, and printmaker William Blake (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) is known for his unconventional views through his poems and other writings, though he remained relatively unknown during his time. "The Tyger" was first published in Songs of Experience (1794) which was eventually combined with his Songs of Innocence (1789) into one title—Songs of Innocence and Experience, showing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul: the author and printer, W. Blake.

In 2002, Blake was number 38 in the BBC's poll of the 100 Greatest Britons.

Here's Copy A of Blake's original printing of The Tyger, c. 1795 at The Fall Creek Review.

$25

A poem from Keith Rawson is at The Fall Creek Review.

Three for Bukowski

I'm not sure what initially sparked my interest in reading Charles Bukowski, but once that tap opened, I went on a steady diet of Buk's work for quite some time. I became such a fan, that I got Kyle Knapp hooked on the candid writer when Kyle was searching for some inspiration of his own. I had lent him Women and several others (Post Office, Notes from a Dirty Old Man), and we had lengthy discussions on the raw material.

January 16, 2013. Kyle sent an email with the header 'ode to Bukowski' and attached was a poem titled Women in Acrostics with a note, "Do you remember this scene in "Women?" It was very funny." -Kyle

So, on this 20th anniversary on Bukowski's death, I thought we'd honor his remembrance with not just Kyle's poem but two other amazing tributes from Gerald So and Adrian Manning (via Silver Birch Press) in the appropriately titled "Another Round for Bukowski" (thanks, Gerald!).

Angel Bitch

It's ages since he had his last attack.
These days she knows when one's about to strike
and sends an urgent warning to the phone
he keeps in readiness next to his heart—
reverberations that he daren't ignore.
Though kneeling at the altar rails, at work
or sleeping in his bed, he'll rise and go.

Sound-proofed, with padded doors and dimly lit,
her basement is her place for therapy—
A basement for abasement, she will jest.

Now raised above him on a golden plinth, a light behind, its halo round her head, from breast to ankles she is dressed in white. The dress gives off a slightly golden glow.

Our second David King story, "Angel Bitch," first appeared in 2011.

Against the falling stone

Sketch from one of Kyle's notebooks.

WATERFALL
Kyle J. Knapp

The dripping blonde blushing iris of the waterfall,
Wonders
And wanders,
Wearing her cold, worn willow-vair lashes
   Against the falling stone.

From Pluvial Gardens & Other Poems.

Introduction to Celebrations in the Ossuary

Today I'm featuring Philip Tate, English Professor, who not only was an inspiration to my nephew Kyle Knapp but he was kind enough to write this perceptive introduction to Kyle's posthumous poetry collection, Celebrations in the Ossuary:

Near the beginning of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land the speaker says, “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.” And quite a fear it is, appearing in the opening section “The Burial of the Dead,” and evoking the biblical reminder of our ultimate return to the earth. A similar reminder appears in the title of this work, Celebrations in the Ossuary. An ossuary is a place for bones of the dead, oftentimes many dead. But where Eliot gives us fear, Kyle Knapp offers a celebration. In the ossuary! And what sort of celebration might we expect in a storage container for bones? Paradoxically, it is a celebration of life.

In “Camping” we see the joy of nights in the woods, so pleasant that for the rest of the year “nothing at all seemed to matter.” Or it is a perfect day composed of simple pleasures and ending with “her laughter.” Even when “Writing Letters Alone in the Light of the Alcove” it is a celebration of “... three men / Drunk and dancing on the ocean floor.”

But it is an ossuary, and these poems capture the loss, the regret, the acknowledgement of ultimate doom. There is an edge to the celebration, the clear sense that much of what brings pleasure brings pain as well. While Eliot gives us fear, Kyle Knapp reminds us that life is worth celebrating, even though “Every bone / dust.”

Celebrations in the Ossuary by Kyle J. Knapp is now available through Amazon and CreateSpace, and it will be available as a Kindle ebook soon. If you would like a review copy, please leave a comment with your email in the comments and specify print or ebook. Or write me directly at paladin-1@hotmail.com.

Profits from sales of Kyle's collection will go to his family and Tompkins Cortland Community College.

Three Poems by Charles A. Gramlich

 

The Sage of Abita Springs is at BEAT to a PULP.

Somewhere in Time

Grandma Sheila labeled the photo, "Somewhere in Time"
You know, the one of you and me standing along Fall Creek
Did she snap the pic, Kyle?
I really can't remember
I’m guessing I was home on leave from the Army
And you must have been, what, about seven years old?
Damn, look how young we were
And, no, I won’t allow myself to be sad
‘Cause I can hear you saying
“Those days will come again,
They were eternal, after all…”

Yesterday

Aaron Warner was Kyle Knapp's very good friend and is an outstanding poet in his own right. I'm super pleased to feature him at BEAT to a PULP this week with his poem, "Yesterday."

Thanks, Aaron.

Pluvial Gardens in Print

I know Kyle's smiling over Pluvial Gardens in print (CreateSpace and Amazon). A portion of the profits will go to, at his parent's request, Tompkins Cortland Community College where Kyle was working toward a degree in Social Sciences. I'm now in the middle of editing his second collection of poems -- Celebrations in the Ossuary -- and hope to have it completed by September 1st, in time for what would have marked his 24th birthday.

Kyle Joseph Knapp 1989-2013

As I stepped with the blinded women, hand in hand to the wooden terrace
The clouds crawled from the waste like shimmering roses,
And the heather blushed in the snow, pale carmine to a pulse of opal.

I told her of the pluvial gardens
Of the terse white gloam
Of the rotting billows of ashen snow
That blow the silken frost of hemlock so cold
Swathed in a bower of magenta and stone.

My promise to you, Kyle, is that all your poems and short stories will be published. Goodbye for now.

Poetry

I’m editing a collection of poems for BEAT to a PULP.

Now, poetry and I have always had a sparse relationship. As a kid I liked Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, both introduced to me in school. Then along the way, in my twenties, I bumped into Sylvia and Ted plus a Lizard King who had also opened up some other doors to me. Lately, it's been Charles Bukowski.

When it comes to poetry, either it speaks to me or it doesn't, and most of the time I prefer the raw not-yet-pigeonholed style. The collection I’m working on has all this. It will be ready soon along with an interview to introduce you this new and superb writer.

I’m curious to hear from you ... how does poetry speak to you and who are some of your favorite poets?

We Might Have: Poems by Gerald So

I've said before I have a difficult time critiquing poetry. But I know what I like and I like Gerald So's poetry a whole helluva lot. I downloaded We Might Have: Poems and am looking forward to reading one a day. I'll leave a review on Amazon when I'm done.

Found Poetry

A Lost E.E. Cummings Poem Discovered.

The Lineup #4

I mentioned to Gerald So, editor of The Lineup, that I love poetry, but I'm at a disadvantage when it comes to reviewing the art--I'm just not intellectually savvy enough to put in words what I like about a poem. He was still kind enough to send me an advanced look at issue #4 and I'm grateful he did.

Even though The Lineup contains poems about crimes, I was surprised to see the names of Keith Rawson, Kieran Shea, and Steve Weddle among the author list. Hey, I know them boys and yet I never knew they had the Longfellow in them. Well, now I do, because all three left me in admiration of their stories laid to verse in this collection. Mr. Rawson's "A Story to Tell Our Daughter" had me re-reading it to my wife who also gave it a thumbs up.

Most of the poems, like "Daughter," are short in nature and I finished the whole issue in less than thirty minutes. Other contributors include Ken Bruen, Chad Rohrbacher, and John Stickney. Introduction is by Reed Farrel Coleman.

I have since gone back for a second helping because good poetry wriggles into your cranium and squirrels around until you think you've seen every possible angle. The Lineup is like that--marvelous poetry that deserves several reads. Highly recommended.

Click here and learn more about The Lineup and how to order.

Ted Hughes

Ted Hughes poem on Sylvia Plath published.

Thanks, Jay for the link. I remember reading and being fascinated by BIRTHDAY LETTERS when it was released.

BTAP #77: Collision by David King

I'm a daily peruser of David King's distinctive Pics and Poems blog with posts on everything from reviews of books, pictures of original pieces of art, and his own poignant, and sometimes humorous, haikus. Dave's poem "I am the man who swallowed the boy" impressed upon me the need to have his work featured in BTAP. Poetry and I are strange bedfellows. I am unable to compose it or critique it properly, but I know when I like it, and I like Mr. King's prose a whole heck of a lot. I approached him about contributing some lines for our Weekly Punch and he delivered in a big way. So without further ado, here's David King at BEAT to a PULP with "Collision."

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Special giveaway this week: BTAP has purchased some stamps with our logo including the boxer image and we are set to give them away! These are legitimate stamps that can be used on your regular snail mail for those of you who still use the U.S. Postal services and for those who don't, well, you'll have a nice addition to your stamp collection. Two lucky winners will receive a sheet of ten stamps just by leaving a comment on "Collision." Names will be tossed into a hat for a random drawing on Saturday, June 12th and the two winners will be announced on next week's BTAP blogger post.

The Blame Train

Jerry B. sent me this funny poem for when you are having one of those days:

I am not allowed to drive the train,
The whistle I cannot blow.
I’m not allowed to say how far the railroad cars may go.

I’m not allowed to let off steam,
Or even clang the bell.
But let the damn thing jump the track and see who catches hell.