Poetry Reading List for White Art Collective

Compiled by Strix

Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48860/the-raven

Ted Hughes: Crow (read by Ted Hughes is my favorite version)  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ml6UehFhG0

Seamus Heaney: Blackberry Picking https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50981/blackberry-picking

Sylvia Plath: Blackberrying https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49004/blackberrying

Emily Dickinson: untitled like most of her poetry 
Not knowing when the Dawn will come,
I open every Door,
Or has it Feathers, like a Bird,
Or Billows, like a Shore

Also, Fame is a Bee  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52139/fame-is-a-bee-1788

ee cummings: (All in green went my love riding) https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/148503/all-in-green-went-my-love-riding

Dylan Thomas: This Bread I Break

T.S. Eliot: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Shelley: Ozymandias 

Keats: Ode to Autumn

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Ashes of Life  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44717/ashes-of-life

Sherman Alexie: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52923/grief-calls-us-to-the-things-of-this-world

Yeats: Byzantium https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43296/byzantium

Poetry Reading List for White Art Collective

Compiled by Reb Kittredge

Must-reads:
If you read nothing else, read Leslie Ullman’s essay, “A ‘Dark Star’ Passes through It.” You’ll find it at her web site: http://www.leslieullman.com. Click on “Abstract of ‘A “Dark Star” Passes through It’”; then click on the link for the full essay. The article appears as a chapter in her book (below).

If you read only one book, read Stephen Dobyns, “Best Words, Best Order.”
This is your fundamental work on craft. For an even better experience, read his extraordinary book of poems, “Body Traffic,” along with it. To answer any questions you may have on free verse poetry read his lengthy chapter, “Notes on Free Verse.” The most basic requirement that every poem must meet is to balance the three planes of interest: physical world/activity, voice/consciousness, and tension/drama.

The best way to become acquainted with poetry is to read works on craft such as the ones below. Because of the wealth of poems and poets you’ll discover in their pages I have limited my list of poetry books to a very few.

Some Highlights:
In Range of the Possible, read the interview with Dave Smith, editor of The Southern Review, one of the top literary magazines in the country. Note his criticisms of PC. These occur when he criticizes Philip Levine’s actions relating to the Rita Dove/Helen Vendler flap over “inclusiveness” in an anthology of American poetry that Dove edited. You can find discussions of the heated debate online. Vendler, a big cheese at Yale, was on our side.

In the Palm of Your Hand is an enormously helpful book for those interested in learning to write poetry. Writing Poems, the only “textbooky” work on this list, is noteworthy for its treatment of line-breaks. The Triggering Town contains two important pieces of advice: “Think small” and “Change the subject.” Nine Gates is an elegant essay that is both helpful and a pleasure to read. The Practice of Poetry is devoted to writing exercises for poets. Arts require practice; poetry is no different.

In Planet on the Table (the phrase comes from a Wallace Stevens poem) read David Wojahn, “From the Valley of Saying,” about the place of poetry in a commercial society. In Poets Teaching Poets read Heather McHugh, “Moving Means, Meaning Moves: Notes on Lyric Destination.” The article shows the power of poetry in its compressed use of language, as well as the value of writing about poetry. Michael Ryan’s wide-ranging essay, “Poetry and the Audience,” touches on Anglo Saxon prosody, Ezra Pound, modernism and fascism, and the conception of poetry as inculcating virtue.

Works on Craft:
Stephen Dobyns, Best Words, Best Order (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996)

Jane Hirschfield, Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1997)

Steve Kowitt, In the Palm of Your Hand: The Poet’s Portable Workshop (Gardiner, ME: Tilbury Publishers, 1995)

Leslie Ullman, Library of Small Happiness: Essays, Poems, and Exercises on the Craft of Poetry (Taos, NM: 3: A Taos Press, 2017)

Robert Wallace and Michele Boisseau, Writing Poems, fifth ed. (New York: Longman, 2000). Note: Wallace died as the fifth edition went to press.

Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town (New York: WW Norton & Company, 1979)

Robin Behn and Chase Twitchell, editors, The Practice of Poetry: Writing Exercises from Poets Who Teach (New York: Harper Perennial, 1992)

Criticism and Interviews:
Sharon Bryan and William Olsen, editors, Planet on the Table: Poets on the Reading Life (Louisville, KY: Sarabande Books, 2003)

Gregory Orr and Ellen Bryant Voigt, Poets Teaching Poets: Self and the World (Chicago and London: The University of Michigan Press, 1996)

Mary Kinzie, The Cure of Poetry in an Age of Prose (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993)

Tod Marshall, Range of the Possible: Conversations with Contemporary Poets (Spokane, WA: Eastern Washington University Press, 2002)

David Wojahn, Strange Good Fortune: Essays on Contemporary Poetry (Fayetteville, AK: The University of Arkansas Press, 2000)

Books of Poems:
Stephen Dobyns, Body Traffic (New York: Penguin Books, 1990). I’ve never read anything else like this amazing collection of poems.

Mark Doty, Atlantis (New York: HarperPerennial, 1995)
—-. Sweet Machine (New York: HarperPerennial, 1998)

Doty is a brilliant poet. Try to find his great poem, “Source,” which appeared in The Gettysburg Review in 2001. He has a book by that title; but all you need from it is that poem.

Larry Levis, The Selected Levis (Pittsburg: University of Pittsburg Press, 2000). Levis is one of the best poets of the second half of the twentieth century. He starts to come into his full powers in Winter Stars.
—-. Elegy (Pittsburg: University of Pittsburg Press, 2000). Published posthumously, Elegy contains astonishing and darkly visionary poems. Notice, especially in “Elegy for Whatever Had a Pattern in It,” how he is able to alternate between a descriptive, narrative voice and a meditative voice.

Wallace Stevens. Holly Stevens, ed. The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and a Play (New York: Vintage Books, 1990). One of the best poets of the 20th century.

Mark Strand, ed., The Contemporary American Poets: American Poetry Since 1940 (New York: The World Publishing Company, 1969)

Robinson Jeffers, Selected Poems (New York: Vintage Books, 1965). A very important poet for us, as his outlook is congenial to ours.

—-. The Double Axe and Other Poems (New York: Liveright, 1977). This work, which is full of bitter poems about America’s involvement in the World War II, brought Jeffers censure from the poetry establishment and ended his public career. He was an early victim of character assassination by a hostile elite.

Many poets shun Jeffers. Which poets like him? Louise Gluck, James Dickey, Jane Hirschfield, Sherod Santos, and Diane Theil, for starters. For an experience of a lifetime, go to Tor House in Carmel-by-the-Sea, California. Also visit the website: www.torhouse.org

Noteworthy Works on Jeffers:
James Karman, Robinson Jeffers: Poet of California (Three Oaks Farm, Brownsville, OR: Story Line Press, 1996)

Sherod Santos, On the Memory of Stone: A Tor House Legacy (Bath, NY: FootHills Publishing, 1996)

Coffee Table Books on Jeffers:

James Karman, Stones of the Sur: Poetry by Robinson Jeffers, Photographs by Morley Baer (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001). Gorgeous and powerful.

Horace Lyon, Jeffers Country: The Seed Plots of Robinson Jeffers’ Poetry (San Francisco: The Scrimshaw Press, 1971)

Great Individual Poems:
Many can be located at www.poetryfoundation.org

Rainer Maria Rilke, “Archaic Bust of Apollo” (discussed in Ullman)
—-. “The Panther”

W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”
—-. “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” (discussed in Hirschfield)

W.H. Auden, “Funeral Blues,” featured in the film, Three Weddings and a Funeral

Archibald MacLeish, “Ars Poetica”: just beautiful; also good advice on poems

Philip Larkin, “The Explosion,” a great poem that pays tribute to working men

A.R. Ammons, “Gravelly Run”

Robinson Jeffers, “Shine, Perishing Republic”
—-. “Rock and Hawk”
—-. “The Purse-Seine”
—-. “The Torch Bearer’s Race”

Wallace Stevens, “Of Mere Being,” the final poem in The Palm at the End of the Mind

T.S. Elliot, “The Hollow Men,” featured in the film, Apocalypse Now

Online sources:
To get your daily dose of what’s out there, the good, the bad, and the woke, subscribe to these poetry sites and magazines for free poems: Rattle; Poetry Daily.

The Sun is Coming

Lyrics by Nullus – Music composed by v m v x e c – Video by Flash Gorgone

Thank you for the epic collaboration!

Manufactured polarization,
Conjuring an infernal psyop,
Farcical politicization,
Your fraudulent soul will never stop!

Smothering depraved obscuration, 
We let you lead our children astray!
Perverse serpentine fornication,
Deeply flawed, grotesque, and grey.

Refrain:
You were given a chance, 
Testing our composure,
You were tolerated for a while,
But now it’s all over.

We were beyond patient:
Zero sum flash of Truth.
This game isn’t theory anymore,
Right-angle azimuth.

Now the Sun is coming,
There’s nothing you can do,
Searing flashes of restitution,
Menacing scathing hue.

Your assortment of cheap fripperies,
Pitiful transhumanist charade,
Crowns of plastic-covered trickeries,
Cheap gadgets that erode and degrade.

And you! You! Who do you think you are?!
Your continuance absurd and wrong!
We’ve grown tired of your repertoire,
Our bright sun will forever shine strong!

Your sophistry is in its last stage,
Our energy rising into one!
From this day forward this is our age!
From this day forward this is our sun!

You only exist by our good grace,
We are the ascending horizon!
You’re expected to assume your place!
You were warned not to stir the lion! 

Refrain:
You were given a chance, 
Testing our composure,
You were tolerated for a while,
But now it’s all over.

We were beyond patient:
Zero sum flash of Truth.
This game isn’t theory anymore,
Right-angle azimuth.

Now the Sun is coming,
There’s nothing you can do,
Searing flashes of restitution,
Menacing scathing hue.

© Nullus (Lyrics)  v m v x e c (Music) 2021 

Build Back Better

Satan’s alliteration,
Cogs in a rotting machine.
COGS – The cost of souls traded.
Cheap units of production,
Hostile to God’s creation!
Communist? Capitalist?
Eerie echoes! Sounds of shame!
Families, nations in debt,
Marking Beelzebub’s ledger,
Whispering: The Great Reset.
Whispering: Build Back Better.

© Nullus 2021

Magamnak Hiányzom / I’ve Lost Myself

Please note that this is a free translation of the original Hungarian lyrics.

You can find the original song on YouTube.

I ask you,
If it doesn’t work for me,
At least please listen to me.
  
How many empty moments,
And I didn’t preserve a thing.
  
But it is like commanding,
Mighty rivers to stop flowing,
And ordering time,
To stop passing.
It’s time for me to start admitting:
That I have to keep on moving.
  
Why do I only recall the beautiful?
Nothing stays: just devotion
Everything else has lost meaning.
A new page, a new division.
  
But it is like commanding,
Mighty rivers to stop streaming,
And ordering time,
To stop passing.
It’s time for me to start admitting:
That I have to keep on moving.
  
Now I already miss myself.
I’m only a part of my former self.
Longing for flames, I got desolation. 
I’m burned out and I’m frightened
Leaving myself in solitary reflection.
  
But it is like commanding,
Mighty rivers to stop streaming,
And ordering time,
To stop passing.
It’s time for me to start admitting:
That I have to keep on moving.
  
But it is like commanding,
Mighty rivers to stop streaming,
And ordering time,
To stop passing.
It’s time for me to start admitting:
That I have to keep on moving.
  
Now I already miss myself. 

The original Hungarian lyrics:

Kérlek
Ha már magamnak nem megy
Legalább, te hallgass meg
  
Mennyi, értelmetlen perc
Semmi nem maradt bennem
  
De nem mondhatom
A folyónak, hogy ne folyjon
És az időnek sem
Hogy nem múljon
Hát magamnak kell belátnom:
Nekem is tovább kell haladnom
  
Miért mindig csak a szépre emlékszem?
Nem maradt: csak szeretet 
Minden más értelmet vesztett
Új lap, új fejezet
  
De nem mondhatom
A folyónak, hogy ne folyjon
És az időnek sem
Hogy nem múljon
Hát magamnak belátnom:
Nekem is tovább kell haladnom
Most már magamnak hiányzom
  
Már csak egy része vagyok magamnak
lángot vártam, hamut kaptam
kiégtem, és begyulladtam
itt hagyom most magam a gondolataimmal
  
De nem mondhatom
A folyónak, hogy ne folyjon
És az időnek sem
Hogy nem múljon
Hát magamnak kell belátnom:
Nekem is tovább kell haladnom
  
De nem mondhatom
A folyónak, hogy ne folyjon
És az időnek sem
Hogy nem múljon
Hát magamnak kell belátnom:
Nekem is tovább kell haladnom
  
Most már magamnak hiányzom 

He Is Risen! – Feltámadott!

by Lajos Füle – Translated and read by Nullus

This Easter morning,
 A spring mood rising,
 The groves are singing:
 He is risen!
  
 Gusts of wind fly,
 along the blue sky,
 Forests testify:
 He is risen!
  
 Bumblebees buzzing,
 Their bees humming,
 Choirs declaring:
 He is risen!
  
 Butterflies are writing,
 The buds are blooming,
 from grass blossoming,
 He is risen!
  
 Heavenly birdies
 Ploughing with ditties
 New furrowed skies:
 He is risen!
  
 Springtime expresses,
 Glorious message,
 Pours into the heart:
 He is risen! 

The original Hungarian poem:

Húsvéti reggel
 tavaszi kedvvel
 zeng a berekben:
 Feltámadott!
  
 Egei kéklik,
 szelei végig –
 zúgják az erdőn:
 Feltámadott!
  
 Dongói dongják,
 méhei zsongják,
 kórusban mondják:
 Feltámadott!
  
 Lepkéi írják,
 bimbói nyílják,
 fűből virítják:
 Feltámadott!
  
 Égi madárkák
 dalolva szántják
 az új barázdát:
 Feltámadott!
  
 Tavasz van íme,
 hatalmas ige
 zuhog a szívre;
 Feltámadott! 

Easter Vigil – Husvétvárás

by Jenő Dsida – Translated and read by Nullus

Easter, Easter! The enamored people
 triumphantly advancing with church banners
 as a fiery red twilight greets ascension.
 Organ music hums outward from churches,
 The world rejoices, the bells are ringing,
 And my mother hurries to the procession.
  
 My room darkens as my heart grows heavy,
 I think: How good it would be to whisk away,
 To stop this dizzy wrangling affliction 
 and the apathy of my heart would heal, 
 On this fiery eve of Holy Saturday,
 Perhaps I can also join the procession.
  
 Many years ago, I wandered the streets,
 Tears slowly flowed down my eyes and touched the road,
 Teardrops and misery, death and decline,
 Innumerable years weeping on dry trails,
 Perhaps on this sacred Easter Vigil
 The resurrected Christ will find my room sublime.
  
 The door opens, his face reveals a heavenly glow,
 The wall of my soul radiantly proclaims,
 That we’re at peace, we carry no grievance.
 The procession outside, the bells are ringing,
 But Christ and I, together with dear Chirst
 On Easter Eve, in complete acceptance. 

The original Hungarian poem:

Husvét, husvét! a kábult emberek
 harsogva mennek templomi zászlókkal
 tüzes-piros nagyszombat alkonyán.
 Templomokból kibug az orgona.
 a világ ujjong, kongnak a harangok
 és körmenetre siet az anyám.
  
 Szobám sötétedik, nehéz szivem
 s azt gondolom: be jó is lenne már,
 ha nem gunnyadnék többé pörlekedve,
 szivemnek sánta lába meggyógyulna
 s tüzes-piros nagyszombat alkonyán
 mehetnék egyszer én is körmenetre.
  
 Sok éve egyszer mentem az uccákon.
 Szememből lassan könny hullott az utra,
 könnycsepp és bánat, hervadás, halál –
 Sok esztendős könnyek száraz nyomában
 az életrekelt nagyszombati Krisztus
 kicsi szobámba vajjon eltalál?
  
 Benyit az ajtón, fénylő lesz az arca,
 lelkem fala sugárzón hirdeti,
 hogy megbékéltünk, nincsen haragunk.
 Künt körmenet lesz, kongnak a harangok,
 de mi Krisztussal, a drága Krisztussal
 nagyszombat este ketten maradunk.
  
 Kolozsvár, 1927. április 18.