Today is the anniversary of the death of George Harrison. Most folks know the story of George as little brother, always tagging along behind Paul and John. But, when it came to music, though not as prolific, at his best he was every bit their equal. And his spirit was, and is, immense. From Isn't It A Pity:
Isn’t it a pity
Isn’t it a shame
How we break each other’s hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other’s love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn’t it a pity
Some things take so long
But how do I explain
When not too many people
Can see we’re all the same
And because of all the tears
Your eyes can’t hope to see
The beauty that surrounds them
Now, isn’t it a pity
There is a new chapbook out by Franz Wright entitled Address from the Vallum Chapbook series out of Montreal. I've just read and done a work up of a review for the Small Press Review. It is a limited run of 200 and if you are a fan of Wright, this is his finest work yet. In fact, this is the best book of poetry I've read this year and I have read quite a few.
Continuing the tour through past issues of Lilliput, what follows is from #131, with cover art above by Christoph Meyer.
When the known
& unknown are
one what is there
but poetry?
~ Scott Watson
A Reply to Ars Poetica
A poem should …” says Archibald, and by
the third word has circumscribed our world.
~ Liam Weitz
I think there is a way
to sculpt silence.
Perhaps that’s what
poems are:
sculptures of silence.
~ Albert Huffstickler
Breakfast
A cup of sweet coffee
one salted egg
a side of salsa
glass of nouns
a bowl of verbs
several silent vowels
swimming in sharp consonants
~ Lonnie Hull DuPont
The Poetry Reading
Metal chairs, bad backs,
the cups of bargain wine.
Outside
cold mists travel the cedar grove,
stirring a hidden gong.
~ Suzanne Freeman
& unknown are
one what is there
but poetry?
~ Scott Watson
A Reply to Ars Poetica
A poem should …” says Archibald, and by
the third word has circumscribed our world.
~ Liam Weitz
I think there is a way
to sculpt silence.
Perhaps that’s what
poems are:
sculptures of silence.
~ Albert Huffstickler
Breakfast
A cup of sweet coffee
one salted egg
a side of salsa
glass of nouns
a bowl of verbs
several silent vowels
swimming in sharp consonants
~ Lonnie Hull DuPont
The Poetry Reading
Metal chairs, bad backs,
the cups of bargain wine.
Outside
cold mists travel the cedar grove,
stirring a hidden gong.
~ Suzanne Freeman
I continue to work on new issues, now long since overdue. Hopefully, some will begin to hit the mails in the next two weeks, the rest following shortly thereafter.
best,
Don
2 comments:
Oh goodness, thank you for this. George was, and ever shall be, my favorite Beatle. Also, "Breakfast" gladdens me more than I can say.
LA:
George, George, George ... what a wonder. When I need to find a deeper space, chanting "Awaiting on You All" works wonders for me.
Very glad you liked "Breakfast" - one of my weaknesses is poems about poetry (also language).
Don
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