A Fire Was In My Head


snow
11 December 2008, 5:07 pm
Filed under: Announcement

(certainly, no two flakes display identical pixelation)

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The From-Here-On-Out Piece
3 November 2008, 12:06 am
Filed under: Announcement | Tags: , , , , , ,

Expect to see three posts per week.  The week begins on Sunday.  It ends on Saturday.  Let me be your steady.  Blogs are not human beings and should be updated regularly, or face extinction.

-ERS



A Bright Expanse Looms
16 October 2008, 3:07 pm
Filed under: Announcement | Tags: , , ,

Welcome to you all.

Borges claimed, perhaps not famously, that “books are only occasions for poetry.”  Then let this, too, be an occasion.

This is a new space devoted to my poetic output and its public consumption.  In the coming months, you should expect to read new poetry I have written, as well as essays on various greater and lesser poetic goals.  Additionally, I will profile influences of mine (literary and otherwise) from time to time.  I attempt candor and vulnerability in all of my writing because I believe in the intimacy of text.

From this corpus I intend to construct a fleshy document, one that functions at once as workspace, performance venue, portfolio, record of composition, guide, panel discussion, tribute, network, and constant self-statement.  In contrast to traditional print, the soft-published format leaves the project more mutable and responsive; it is to my advantage in these early stages to diminish the lag between composition and criticism.

The space takes its name from a line in “The Song of Wandering Aengus” by Yeats.  The sense of magic Yeats evokes in this poem is a poignant summary of my creative ambitions.

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry on a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
and walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Finally, I encourage an active readership, so please do not hesitate to comment on anything you read here.

-ERS