[stylist] Poem - "Antoinette"

[William L Houts]

HI Brigit,

To answer one question of yours which I didn't cover in my previous 
message:  I've written a number of sonnets --almost all of them bad-- in 
order to learn some things about the uses of structure and rhyme.  
Mostly, though, I tend to write loose if not totally free verse lines.  
I have to pay strict attention to JAWS as I do this, or I make hash out 
of everything and nothing makes any sense.  As I said before, this is 
all a matter of craft,though much of it is mostly subconscious at this 
point.  Hope I don't come off like some egotistical boobnow,  ha.

OH yeah, and comparing my work to that of the Beats is high praise, and 
I hope I eventually live up to Mr. Ginsberg's "HOWL", which still makes 
me sob whenever I read it.


--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