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Kay Ryan
Meghan O'Rourke offers a credible description and defense of our new Poet Laureate, but as much as I enjoy the reasoning, I find the idea of Kay Ryan , Poet, more interesting than Kay Ryan's poetry. I'm not a fan of ornate language, since most poets do it badly, even those who are praised for it as a default remark, including our drifting poet ...
Posted to The Highbrow by Ted Burke on November 12, 2008
There was a man of double deed: terror in a plain tongue
I don't think this is great poetry, but it is worth remarking upon for how effectively it creates the mindset of someone for whom the world is great chain of secret connections that are mysterious, foreboding and headed, inevitably , toward a terrible end. The rhyme scheme, tick-tock, back and forth, a child's jump rope tempo, suggests a mind ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on November 12, 2008
poem: COMIC BOOKS
COMIC BOOKS Back in the daywhen a week was forever, a month would never end , and a year was a trip to the moon, something we wouldn't be alive to see unless everything we wake up to was only another version of sleep and celestial sets on a stage that shifted with each whim of the heart. Time for a kid was an mangy ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on November 1, 2008
for the Bush Years: A ribbon around the heart of the world
A ribbon around the heart of the world The white peoplehave gone crazyin the back seatsof All American carslooking for the sex lifethat fell between the cracks,meanwhile screaming the rudenessof Romantic lovethat finds themhung-over in courttoo early in the morningof a business daywhere they'll tell the Judgethat it's only rock and rolland that ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on November 1, 2008
Re: Thur.OPP: A poem by John Brandi
Hey, zinya, good to see you, and thanks for your elaboration. What works for me is that Brandi side steps the trap of trying to mimic the diction that emerges from the translations of Asian poets--there has always been something just a little fake in the manner in which too many Western poets come up with when they try to write in the spirit of ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on October 31, 2008
Re: The Day The Poetry Died
After a conversation like that, the sun ought to explode. As for the rest? No comment.
Posted to Poems by White_Rabbit on October 29, 2008
Ashbery, John
(Daniel Pritchard has a lively discussion about John Ashbery going on at his blog The Wooden Spoon, the subject of which seems to be another bout of head scratching over the purpose of the poet's work. Respondents, sympathetic and contrarian, offer up their own views. Here are my comments.) A poem should not mean, but be.-Archibald MacLeishThat's ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on October 21, 2008
Dead Letter
Dead Letter Office All the mailand all the stampsand the address labelsbragging names of friendsand enemies alike Connote a lagalong the linesthat cause a spark,a hand to pick up the pen, What names have yougiven out, what empty lots do those letters come to?
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on October 19, 2008
Ashes on the ivory:comments welcome
ASHES ON THE IVORY Smoke and more smoke, smoke from the nose and into the lungs, and out of the nose, smoke and more smoke, nonstop, a factory across the Street, miles of chairs and a stage wrapped in ashen grey skin under lights bright as Novas when something goes wrong and hot as the center of any lit stove, smoke and more smoke, features ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on October 19, 2008
speechless as trains: comments welcome
SPEECHLESS AS TRAINS In the drift of the words you are speaking, wrapped in steam that unfolds in vapors that vanish in the cold snap of wind that blows against brick houses that remain beautiful despite neglect and graffiti, a half century of weather, I am stunned, speechless as trains. I am drunk in love with an idea of you before we ever spoke ...
Posted to Poems by Ted Burke on October 16, 2008

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