Skip to main content

THE AMAZING MAZER: A NEW POEM

Ben Mazer is always an Eyewear favourite and here the Boston poet of flamboyant brilliance offers us a new poem:


Orphans

The splintered gutter’s cool refreshing pools
of mud’s perspective shatter shadowed noon,
having rejected all philosophy,
its one objective downward to the sea;
the poet’s pants in tatters, and a flower
in bramble coat of mould, deflect who see
in crossing, but the radiant queen
bestows her museship on the violent seer;
these orphans drink their vodka and they gleam
to be descending further than the fold,
past every trinket of the common household,
where tufts of marigolds gleam in the wind,
that signify the sea; quick steps rescind
the future and the present, but the past,
at last familiar, asserts its precedence
where clotted loss builds out of a mixed tense,
the secret intimacy orphans clasp
to one another, to propagate a myth.

There’s no way back from what they carry with.


new poem by Ben Mazer; copyright 2013.  First published at Eyewear today.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A  poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.

Poetry vs. Literature

Poetry is, of course, a part of literature. But, increasingly, over the 20th century, it has become marginalised - and, famously, has less of an audience than "before". I think that, when one considers the sort of criticism levelled against Seamus Heaney and "mainstream poetry", by poet-critics like Jeffrey Side , one ought to see the wider context for poetry in the "Anglo-Saxon" world. This phrase was used by one of the UK's leading literary cultural figures, in a private conversation recently, when they spoke eloquently about the supremacy of "Anglo-Saxon novels" and their impressive command of narrative. My heart sank as I listened, for what became clear to me, in a flash, is that nothing has changed since Victorian England (for some in the literary establishment). Britain (now allied to America) and the English language with its marvellous fiction machine, still rule the waves. I personally find this an uncomfortable position - but when ...

IQ AND THE POETS - ARE YOU SMART?

When you open your mouth to speak, are you smart?  A funny question from a great song, but also, a good one, when it comes to poets, and poetry. We tend to have a very ambiguous view of intelligence in poetry, one that I'd say is dysfunctional.  Basically, it goes like this: once you are safely dead, it no longer matters how smart you were.  For instance, Auden was smarter than Yeats , but most would still say Yeats is the finer poet; Eliot is clearly highly intelligent, but how much of Larkin 's work required a high IQ?  Meanwhile, poets while alive tend to be celebrated if they are deemed intelligent: Anne Carson, Geoffrey Hill , and Jorie Graham , are all, clearly, very intelligent people, aside from their work as poets.  But who reads Marianne Moore now, or Robert Lowell , smart poets? Or, Pound ?  How smart could Pound be with his madcap views? Less intelligent poets are often more popular.  John Betjeman was not a very smart poet, per se....