[stylist] Poem - "Antoinette"

[William L Houts]

Hi Brigit,

Thank you dearly for your gracious comments.  I think the only answer to 
your questions that I can honestly and clearly make is that it's taken 
me more than thirty years to learn the craft of writing both poetry and 
prose, and it's really all just started to come together in the last 
five or ten years.  Also,I've always hated cliche, --especially my own-- 
with fanatical passion.  Now, when I write, it often seems to come to me 
fairly easily, though I still edit and work through successive drafts of 
nearly all my writing.  And that is probably the central truth; it's 
honest hard work, albeit honest hard work which brings me a lot of joy 
--especially when I can please a hard-nosed bunch like present company.


--Bill








On 3/17/2014 11:57 AM, Bridgit Pollpeter wrote:
> Bill,
>
> Thank you for posting. I too enjoy your poetry.
>
> I think one of the reasons I and others like Chris connect to your
> poetry when we usually don't feel much when reading poetry is because
> you have a unique voice, almost Beat-like. It's not archaic language,
> though full of vivid imagery and descriptive language.
>
> This poem in particular is quite vivid. I have instant images in my head
> when reading it.
>
> Do you follow a particular poetry format? I like your phrasing and how
> you structure the lines and stanzas. I've studied poetry but not enough
> to recognize most formats just by reading them. I really enjoy the flow
> of your poetry and can totally see you reading this at a coffee house or
> something, smile.
>
> Bridgit
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of William L
> Houts
> Sent: Monday, March 17, 2014 10:37 AM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: [stylist] Poem - "Antoinette"
>
>
> Hey Peeps,
>
> Here's a poem I wrote this summer, recovered this morning after some
> hard drive archaeology.  I think it has legs; your mileage may vary, ha.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
> ---
>
>
>
> For fifteen years
>
> it's been a hard life, poverty rife
>
> and replete with disease.
>
> It's not complaint, I'm just
>
> speaking up. IN this country,
>
> we scrub heaven's streets
>
> with wire brushes and eat
>
> our dolor like cake.
>
> The movie house helps, and the Web,
>
> and the cheap greasy eats which
>
> will kill us all grinning.
>
> Most days, I hardly bitch.
>
> Cold unhoped for water
>
> spills tapwise, filling my
>
> cups, faithful as falls.
>
> I void in toilets,
>
> in peaceful, clean, unhoped for
>
> waters, always granted.
>
> Unhoped for too, these graces,
>
> by billions who squat, and bear
>
> their stench in public streets:
>
> filthy, betrayed, and naked as fire.
>
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-- 
"Let's drink a toast now to who we really are."

           --Jane Siberry