Surazeus = Simon Seamount, WSU 1988

Dear Sherman, Here is my Crocus poem, a segment from my epic tale of the life of Epicurus the philosopher. In this segment he is a young man traveling with his mother Khairestrate who is a healer. Khairestrate caresses fevered brow of young woman who shifts in restless sleep. "Our soul is like sweet Krokos flower that glows bright purple with light of half-risen sun. We bury our soul like Krokos bulb deep in green swelling mound of our mother world, and there we sleep in sweet refreshing dreams during dark night of anguish and despair, so Mother Kthonie dismantles our sorrows and reassembles our love from rich dreams. Then with bright rising sun that beams soft rays over distant hills to wake living creatures we wake from death and rise from dreaming minds like tender shoot from buried Krokos bulb which opens purple petals to receive warm rays of kissing light that revives well our animating soul from sleep of death, and thus we rise again, healed and refreshed. Like Krokos bulb must be buried to bloom, we bury souls in sleep so we may thrive."

Having just discovered the conference only a few years ago, I was eagerly planning to attend next year. Alas.

I have slightly modified my comment: To me the difference between narrative and lyric poetry is very simple. A lyric poem is when one character is speaking for itself alone, expressing feelings about memories, in a static speech, as if they are sitting somewhere talking to someone. A narrative poem is when a disinterested narrator is telling a story that presents a series of scenes with actions in a variety of settings that depict several characters talking to each other, in which causes result in effects, so there is a transformation.

To me the difference between narrative and lyric poetry is very simple. A lyric poem is when one character is speaking for itself lone, expressing feelings about memories, in a static speech, as if they are sitting somewhere talking to someone. A narrative poem is when a narrator is telling a story that presents a series of scenes with actions in a variety of settings that depict several characters talking to each other, in which causes result in effects, so there is a transformation.

I think that would work if every poet who joins and contributes dues gets a chance to go on a reading that is equally funded with all other readings. I can see how it could be abused so that a small group gets lots of well-funded readings and all the others never get to go on one. That could be avoided if a system was established that ensured equal opportunity for every member to benefit.

I love the rich variety of cultures that have mixed to generate American culture. I can relate to that work ethic. I have to work hard at not working so hard at writing all the time, but I just love the visions induced during the process of composing a poem.

Grin. I always feel that no matter how awful a poem may be, at least the person made an attempt to express their thoughts. Better to have awful poetry than silence or groans.

Maybe by the artificial standards of the poobahs of modernism, who think poetry is just a language game, those poems were "awful", but I consider them valuable since they served well their intended purpose of personal communication. There are many levels of poetry. Epic narrative, gritty satire, Hallmark sentimental lyric, angst existential diatribe, political jeremiad, romantic song, blues, folk, rebellious rock, assertive rap, commercial jingle, tragic ballad, and many more. Academic language games are just one small field of the poetic country.

While I like writing and reading more formal poetry, I like any text that explores deep concepts in clear visionary language that wakes the mind.

I love how you analyze the connection between action and sense perception to the stages of emotional response to a dangerous situation, and show how good poetry explores that connection with visual imagery. I have done this many times in numerous poems, and love how the structure of cognitive science supports the beauty of art. I also like how Desmond quotes Milton! One of my favorite poets.

I love your indepth discussion on how the mind weaves impressions of landscape and experience to paint visions of the self struggling to survive in the world through the metaphorical process of connecting concrete images to the ideal concepts we cherish in a search for meaning so each individual can map their route through the meaningless of life to survival and possibly even paradise in a moment of pleasure. The night they took his corpse out of the house, I remember the neighbors staring and how his belly rose under the white sheet.

I love scrounging in the cave of dreams and carving souls from my heart of stone.

I think this thought exercise clearly reveals the basic consideration of all critical analysis of literature: does the text as accurately as possible reflect the vast complex messiness of the culture in which we live?

Poetry paints transformations of emotion like gleaming torch that illuminates path of stumbling feet through maze of hope to live beyond walls of fear and find garden of fruit. surazeus at g mail

I just read instructions elsewhere that I should leave email with my response. I wrote the verse above in response to your post. It was inspirational! surazeus at g mail

I dream flow of dreams pulsing in my blood and sail surging flood of memories safe in raft of words woven from broken twigs that fell from Tree of Life just before dawn, searching forests of wordless shadows lost inside sky of your eyes till I find you dancing and singing to yourself alone.

Don, I am intrigued by this sentence of your post and wonder if you feel inspired to elaborate a bit? "Though it was hard to believe that such an important magazine could be shut down, the truth is that it had lost its way for a very long time." How had The Partisan Review lost its way? Surazeus Simon Seamount

The prophet Bob strides an empty highway followed by the ghosts of voices he sings.

I have no more questions to ask the dead while the living stumble around and grin.

Absurdist surrealism is fun to write and read. It is like whipped cream and gummy bears on cheese cake with goops of maple syrup.

That would have been fun to attend.

I published about 3000 poems I wrote the past 25 years in 3 volumes up for sale at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/angeliad as well as several smaller volumes of religious and romantic poems.

I am writing an epic poem in blank verse about scientists and their contributions to development of civilization. Does that count toward refusing to be a martyr?