[stylist] Poem - "Ode to Coffee" - Final Draft (Maybe)

[William L Houts]

HI Jackie Lee,

Yes, "William L. Houts" is my correct full name and that's how I sign my 
poems, but for our informal purposes here you can always call me "Bill".

And it's a great treat to come downstairs this Saturday morning and 
learn that my poems are worth the effort, heh.


--Bill



On 7/11/2015 10:44 AM, Jackie Williams via stylist wrote:
> Bill,
> What a unique way to portray our writing efforts. An otter on a water slide!
> It sounds delicious in this Arizona heat.
> Lynda recently described her version of the "erasure poem" which did what I
> did. Remove what one wants from someone else's creation, and make your own.
> Part of this is not to use more than 50% of the original and give full
> credit. I wonder, also, if every borrowed word should not be italicized.
> At any rate, when I hear a name I spell it phonetically, and that makes me
> spell your name Millhouse which I know is not correct. William  L. Houts is
> right? My hearing fouls me up often when trying to critique things. I
> usually have to spell out many names and words. Your writing is a challenge
> in that respect. But your word play makes it worthwhile.
>
> Jackie Lee
>
> Time is the school in which we learn.
> Time is the fire in which we burn.
> Delmore Schwartz	
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of William L
> Houts via stylist
> Sent: Friday, July 10, 2015 2:58 PM
> To: stylist at nfbnet.org
> Cc: William L Houts
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Poem - "Ode to Coffee" - Final Draft (Maybe)
>
> HI Jackie,
>
> Your "Ode to Bill" is charming and very, very flattering.  What you're
> doing, I'd say, is very gamelike, and games are very important to me.
> As I think I wrote this morning, writing poetry for me often consists of
> playing games with words, ideas, the very act of writing.  I'm not
> sayhing that I always win --whatever that would mean-- but it has
> something to do with the way I go from the initial line or phrase to the
> endgame, when I've, hopefully, written ten or twelve lines which speak
> meaningfully to the reader about some object or idea.  I think I relate
> to our beloved English language the same way you might relate to slides
> at a water park.  There's enormous fun to be had with all of the
> surfaces and contours of the language, and I try to play on / in / with
> them all. I'm not saying that this always leads to successful work,
> whatever that would mean--  but it seems to get me places. And that's
> exactly what you've done, using my ppoem as a kind of literary water
> slide. Welcome to your otterhood, Jackie Lee, LOL.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
>
> On 7/10/2015 11:49 AM, Jackie Williams via stylist wrote:
>> Bill,
>> Will you please write out your last name for me. I cannot find it in your
>> e-mail.
>> Your evented words totally inspire me. My poetry teacher often assigns a
>> random word poem to us, and we have to pass a dictionary around, each one
>> pointing to a word and we have to use it in a poem. We can take a few
>> liberties after it is done, but we must address the word in some way in
> the
>> poem.
>> Your poem inspired me to do the same using some of your unusual words and
>> phrases, to write whatever came to mind.
>> Please keep in mind that when I do a cut and paste, the italic feature
>> usually does not work, and often the format is changed. I do not know how
> to
>> change this. So I will attempt to attach it also.
>> I hope you take this effort as a compliment as that is what it is meant to
>> be. I could never come up with as original words as you always
> effortlessly
>> seem to do.
>> Needless to say, My morning mug of coffee breaks all of my rules for
>> Barrett's Esophagus, but I have it anyway. And perhaps one or two more
>> during the day.
>>
>> A Random Word Poem
>> after Bill
>>
>> Instead of randomly picked from the dictionary, these words and phrases
> are
>> from a poem about coffee, by Bill
>>
>> font, wizard  sun, mystic kiss, starlike, lightning now,
>> shockwitch, ever devil, bejazzed, lying skag,
>> hags of drain, prayed your rosy beans, begetting thusly printed suns,
>> novels raining sane, on desert dire fire, weaving weird unlikely,  sage,
>> somber dreams
>>
>> A Circle of Survival
>> 	after Bill M________
>> 	"An Ode to Coffee
>> My fruitful font is for the blind,
>> depending on that mystic sun,
>> imagined Wizard's kiss.
>> It chases shockwitch, ever devil
>> that otherwise pursues my every day.
>>
>> I praise your rosy beans of thought,
>> begetting thusly printed poems.
>> But night will come with bejazzed dreams,
>> lying skag, and hags of drain.
>> Lightning now yet  starlike comes.
>> Poems raining sane, on desert dire fire,
>> are weaving weird unlikely  sage.
>>
>> But not before that steaming cup
>> of acid biting brew, as black as an Eritrean
>> escaping his own war-torn night.
>> My oft-drained cup releases soggy dreams,
>> vibrates the visions for this coming day.
>>
>>
>> Jackie Lee
>>
>> Time is the school in which we learn.
>> Time is the fire in which we burn.
>> Delmore Schwartz	
>>
>>
>> -----Original Message-----
>> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of William L
>> Houts via stylist
>> Sent: Friday, July 10, 2015 9:28 AM
>> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
>> Cc: William L Houts
>> Subject: [stylist] Poem - "Ode to Coffee" - Final Draft (Maybe)
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>> Good Morning, Gang,
>>
>> Here's a poem I wrote maybe two years ago.  It makes sense, I think, in
>> an abstract sort of way.  It's clearly what the title says, but there's
>> a lot of word play and general hijinks here, and some readers may come
>> away ready to light torches, leash some dogs and lead a party to burn
>> down my castle.  That's all right, I'm used to it, ha.
>>
>> --Bill
>>
>>
>> ---
>>
>> *Ode to Coffee *
>>
>> Steaming font of wizard  sun;
>>
>> Black, you bring this mystic kiss
>>
>> of starlike lakes, you lightning now,
>>
>> shockwitch full of morning bless!
>>
>> You shake us clean of soggy dreams,
>>
>> those fleas, those frogs from ever devil
>>
>> jungle night. This  song I write
>>
>> bejazzed with juices dark and wild
>>
>> though milder than your cokes, your cakes
>>
>> of lying skag, those hags of drain.
>>
>> Balzac, frantic, prayed your rosy beans,
>>
>> begetting thusly printed suns,
>>
>> his doctor novels raining sane
>>
>> on desert dire fire minds:
>>
>> we follow suit, weaving weird unlikely,  sage.
>>
>> while time pursues, that perfect hound:
>>
>> behold a poem, a prayer, a page!
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
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-- 


"Oh, Sophie!  Whyfore have you eated all de cheeldren?"