Poetry and Discussion
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. (Robert Frost)
Facebook Workshop Group is Here
Poetry Workshop Zine Cover
Other Voices Poetry Series Spring 2018
Other Voices Poetry Series Spring 2018 Saint Anselm College
Save the Dates! We have three exciting poets coming this Semester in the Other Voices Diversity Initiative Series.
Each event will have an afternoon workshop, a dinner with the poet, and an evening reading.
Slots for the workshop and dinner are limited. You can RSVP and register at the links below.
Poetry for Oscar Grant and The Hate U Give
Poetry related to the killing of Oscar Grant, the inspiration for Angie Thomas's novel The Hate U Give, which we are discussing this month on campus.https://saeedjones.wordpress.com/2010/07/11/elegy-for-oscar-grant-or-a-found-poem-made-of-links/
The Constant by Erin Schuster
Poems for AVERT against Rape Culture
Here are Some Poems that speak the truth about Rape Culture:
Lucubrations by Paul Goodspeed
by Paul Goodspeed
It begins with background chatter crackling like a comfortable fire on a cold night
And home-baked bread that tastes like hospitality, sweeter than hand-harvested honey
Then she steps up to the mic and reels us in, collecting the scatter and quelling the chatter
And despite quirky quips called out with a smile, the program commences
With each song I float away on angelic acoustic music
Each lyric carefully carved with exquisite care
Each song its own path to profundity
Open Mic in LLC at 8PM tonight
Open Mic Night tonight at 8PM in LLC Classroom
Robert Frost's House
Pictures from Robert Frost's Home in Franconia, where he lived from 1915-1920.
Their Words by Paul Goodspeed
155. Their Words
by Paul Goodspeed
Valentines Day Open Mic Feb. 2016
Thursday February 11. 8:00 PM
(Signup starts at 7:30PM)
Comiskey Room 10
Valentine's Day Open Mic!
Share your poetry, writing, music, or other creative work, or just come
to watch. Food and Refreshments.
Some poems for Enough is Enough
Some Poems for Enough is Enough
Sheryl Luna Shock and Awe
Patricia Lockwood: Rape Joke
June Jordan: Poem about My Rights
Poem by young girl who killed herself because of bullying
Marge Piercy: The friend
Anne Sexton: Briar Rose
Marge Piercy: The Rape Poem
Adrienne Rich; Aunt Jennifer's Tigers
2 tell you.
3 strikes you’re out,
4 not answering to me.
5 reasons why this week sucks:
6 days ago I asked you something.
7 minutes before you responded, each minute hurt.
8 um’s later I walked out the door forever.
9 at night pitch black, freezing cold and lonely out.
10 times you called me. Stop. It’s over. Leave me alone.
What You Need to Understand and Preferably Also Not Understand
I realized two days after the end before the beginning and upon subsequent completion the end was the beginning is the end. Words man, words say things, they open up a world of indefinite reality set upon vinyl to a record player of life. A side, B side, each has its qualities and each has its way of being. Can the tortoise shell glasses redeem the sacrificial lamb from its wrongs upon the hill of judgment? Can a semi-religious statement be made to seem like one come from the mouth of a non-believer? Mark off the prices of idiosyncratic Black Friday stores, raid them for their wares, for their solutions to ancient living. Turn statements and maxims on their heads and understand than going forth, that moving is preferable to standing still. Relativity doesn't apply here Einstein, understand this kind of statement too is funny because it confronts an expression. Understand wordplay might be more important than understanding, that the Black Forest contains secrets of mythological understanding set upon a pedestal of nothingness and lies. Understand that saying you are mighty fine and being mighty fine are one in the same. There is no lie at play here. The cliché goes that people always lie when they say “I'm fine” but in this case you should speak it truly. You are fine. You are alive. You are fine. You breathe. You are fine. You can eat a calzone and send that motherfucker down your throat, through your digestive tract and enjoy the crap out of it.
i slept with two blankets
and prince slept with none
kevin with one eye
the space for us has walls of air
and privacy is a favor done by not looking
the same white man
with a white beard
and carrying like a fisherman says
that common sense is expedient of tradition
and i hear him to my back left
by the benches where drummers stalk
drink the same liquor
there is a ripple of beautiful heads
shaved balding oily chunks floral swipes
of brown torquiose golden hair
all flashing the sky's reflection
as they are
nodding at a call for politeness
nodding to the call of "it just is"
and the hair burns
that smell of eyebrows
the nicotine-stained curling of eyelashes
melting away from fire catching
the excess paper of a badly rolled cigarette
climbing above my nose
their heads burn in my eyes
as they call for cleanliness
as a well-slept Ms. whatever
with the latest running shoes
implores our people to fight against crack
and the red eyes of the affected are red
either with phallic righteousness
and none of us speak to the toxins
rising from our styrofoam plates
from the trucks painted by missionaries
and the air walls tell me he is looking for me
the radio tells me with suicidal poetry that he is looking
and my justification my love of solitude battles
my justification my love of humanity
and my love of humanity is torn by the loyalty of nature
now when skateboards smack down their wheels
i hear guns
and my nerves pick up
Enough Is Enough Creative Prompt
Here's an opporunity to create. Saint Anselm is currently involved in Enough Is Enough, a campaign against bullying, violence, and abuse. As a collective effort, we were asked to produce some sort of artistic, literary or musical response to the mission this campaign has set forth.
Enough Is Enough has provided us with some information they'd like to convey. The boundaries are grey and the space is unlimited; do with this as you will. I'm excited to see what comes out of this!
Guy Fawkes Day
Guy Fawkes Day
Blow up my heart
and leave its pieces
slowly gathering in bits
crawling back across the
Reform the shrapnel shards
to unforseen configurations
captured by the phantom pull
of a gravity you do
not know you have.
Hope is dynamite
explodes the past
to ever branching, flowing outward,
starry fingered, curling trails.
Hope is a whisper
to the flying pieces
to settle softly
along the gradient
lines of force
that point in silence
to the future.
Hope is a bomb.
Blow up my heart.
Where no light reaches
Pulitzer Prize Recipient and Poet Laurean Maxine Kumin
Wednesday, October 12, 7 p.m., NHIOP Auditorium
Poetry and stargazing around the campfire.