What's happening at HappenStance
If you read a lot of poems, most of them don’t.
My natural preference is for lyric.
I always thought Arvon courses were things other people did.
Yes, it’s TALENT. I know.
Anon is, with considerable justification, the most famous of them all. But many names cling to anonymous coat-tails.
Last week I wrote about idolatry. This week I learned it.
This is what contemplation of one small poem leads you to.
Maybe. It worked for Sharon Olds, for example, with Stag’s Leap, winner of this year’s T S Eliot prize.
And is there a blogjam? Probably, yes.
This is cheating. I am really thinking about StAnza.
I couldn’t even remember at first which poem it came from — it was the image that stuck.
Do you remember the smell? The redolence of the little tubes of ‘oil paint’?
Poems by heart. Should we?
From a creative point of view, it can be more interesting when things go wrong.
Keep them long enough and they turn into poetry.
It was Richie McCaffery’s spoon-winning collection that started it.
It’s a line of Anne Stevenson’s. I remember it but I can’t for the life of me find the poem.
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