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Vol.1,
No.5 • November 2007
Songs for the Soul
Internet Singers
by Harry Furness
Introduction
Greetings.
This month I would like to praise those who use this new medium
to the heights that we all wish technology can bring us. This
shift is occurring from a groundswell caused when artists use
a medium to reach the largest number of people in the most direct
way. Poetry was once on the lips of traveling minstrels. When
printing became widespread and available (we all remember from
school a guy named Guttenburg) songs moved to print. Walt Whitman
was known to sell his Leaves of Grass door-to-door. There was
even the small press revolution of the 1920's led by such noted
American writers as T.S. Elliot and Marianne Moore and publishing
houses such as Scribners. This small press to the faithful was
even evident in the second part of the 20th Century as exemplified
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti's City Lights Books.
Opening Salvo
A new "publishing" has taken
hold and it's no longer just connected to a city (i.e., Paris,
London, New York, San Francisco). It takes place daily on the
world wide web. The good part of the internet is that it is all
of human knowledge at your fingertips. The bad part of the internet
is that it is all of human knowledge at your fingertips. There
are large numbers of folks who are using this medium to meet
its potential. Three discussed here are: Abigail Mouat, Shirley
Allard, and Jo Janoski.
A Song for Poets
Sing
Sing with all of your voice
Until your throat is parched and ready to break
Whisper at the waves that break at your feet
And let the sea know that you'll continue
Until there is no more white water
Shout at the wind and let it blow your
Words
Back into your mouths
Let your sight sting with joy
As tree limbs crash down around your feet
Let the arched eyebrow of a lover look at you
Questioning
Your own soul melody mixing with your inner ear
It is something that wants you
Needs you
Like the milky way hurling away at billions of light years
As star stuff links you to all things
More space than solid
Crashing atoms with the self same force
Sing the spinning soul songs
A bird takes flight and rides the waves of the earth
Whispering is louder than shouting
And no PR is worth this weight
Write and feel at the end that you've poured all into its vessel
Worn out from the orgasm of the words
Sucked out to the sea of calm
Singing one last refrain
Done
Abigail Mouat
Ms. Mouat
is a Florida native and grew up in what she describes as a bohemian
lifestyle. She started writing as a teen and her father was a
major influence in her poetic education. Because of his encouragement,
she began writing. As a young women she was offered a fellowship
to Cambridge University to study writing. But poverty stayed
her course. She is a single mother working hard to fight poverty
and bring up her daughter. Her poetry is full of images that
decry the face of want.
in this small town, this brick city
where weeds ride the pavement cracks
and concrete is king
i cannot think of a worse place to live...
poverty runs like snot out of everyone's nose
and no one cares to wipe it
no one notices how disgusting it is
salty and sweetly warm.
("Brick City")
Ms. Mouat's theme's are a discussion of
poverty and want. She also writes about a sense of loss and missed
opportunities. There is also a strong sense of disappointment
in how people deal with one another and with events.
Your news was
the damp in
my firecracker.
It saturated gunpowder
...
("Maybe next year)
In one poem, "To The Editor who Rejected
My Submission," Ms. Mouat tells the tale of a poet frustrated
by what the editor states as a lack of experience. The poet is
seen yelling at the wall of disappointed citing all of the real
world experiences that they have lived. This is a very confessional
cry to be heard in a world were only those "known"
get to be known.
My brother killed himself when I was twelve.
That was the first bloodletting.
...
The poet goes on to describe the deaths of loved ones, longing,
fear, drugs, and stolen sex. And states:
These are the experiences that count.
No classroom can give you the experience, the
Raw emotion - only the tools.
This poem strikes at the heart of why more
and more poets are controlling their own destiny by moving to
and living in the blog community. Ms. Mouat begs the question
as to who better to describe the human condition than people
living in the real world. Not the academics who are the ones
with big publishing contracts, but those who cover the world
of the experience - no matter how harsh.
Ms. Mouat's poetry is filled with images
of life lived with daily choices of existence. She is far removed
from the ivory tower and her eyes see the searing effect of poverty,
hunger, and a hand-to-mouth life. This is not to say that her
poetry is void of love and compassion.
let me write one good book
something that will live
on past youth and beauty.
I want to create each page
and savor the words,
the actions,
the meanings
...
("Bookishness")
"My evolution as a writer has always
been to study, read, and mimic - then discard all. Influences,
such as William Carlos Williams, e.e.cummings, Anne Sexton, etc.,
were all handled the same way. The bulk of their influence fell
away and left something that stayed with me - a brick that I
used to build the writer that I am. And hopefully, these structures
are sound. Time will show I've been a good architect and student
of poetry."
Even though Ms. Mouat's dark images seem
to call for despair at the plight of human existence, she yells
for action. The human spirit can rise above any disappointment
or ill-turned fate. This is done by reacting to your situation
and acting to counterbalance all of the bad that effects us.
Ms. Mouat has had works appear in the Santa
Fe Review, published by Ebullince Press, and maintains a blog
at: http://www.wordpress.com/xysea
www.wordpress.com/xysea.
www.inkandblood.net/pubnews.html West Memphis
Witch Hunt (All proceeds to support the West Memphis 3) "Woman",
"Murder Me" Copyright 2007 Abigail E Mouat
Falling Star magazine - Winter 2007 Edition
"Slut" Copyright 2007, Abigail E Mouat
Shirley Allard
Shirley
Allard lives in New Hampshire and has years of experience as
a graphic artist and designer. She climbed the corporate ladder
from paste-up artist to a publisher. She left the newspaper world
to create her own desktop publishing business and publishes an
online magazine for other internet writers.
Ms. Allard's poetry is filled with images
of hope and redemption. She draws on her surroundings of rural
New Hampshire to create picture poems based in nature.
I sit mesmerized
watching leaves touching down
now freed from the tree
as they spiral around.
They land with perfection
such timing and grace
...
("Falling")
Ms. Allard states that she has enjoyed
writing poetry for as long as she can remember. Her poetry is
a way for her to explore and relate to her feelings as well as
to connect with her thoughts. She has mastered the short form which,
as Ezra Pound once said, is the only way to be poetic. If each
word is not germane to the poem, it should be struck from the
page.
There's a voice in the silence
Where innocence sleeps,
A face in the flame
That captures and keeps,
A haze on the windows
Where ashes conspire,
To capture the rapture
Of the demon called fire
("Fire Watch")
She is almost exclusively an internet poet.
She has stated that her largest influence on her writing style
is a poet that she discovered on the internet, Robert Cameron
Hazelton (http://averagepoet.blogspot.com/).
As with other poets she did not find an easy path to print publication.
However, when she started reading Mr. Hazelton's poetry, she
immediately identified with his writings, images, and style.
Ms. Allard "fell in love" with his words, cadence,
and brevity.
Which way to go to find the end
Where strands of gold lie waiting
So many tangled threads to tend
The spider squirms, imprisoned within
The fortress of its own fabrication.
("Trapped")
Ms. Allard besides being an accomplished
graphic artist is also a photographer. She combines her poetic
naturalistic compositions with her photographic art. She uses
her poetry to produce and sell framed prints. Her print works
have been sold at local gift shops and can be seen exhibited
in New England art fairs.
When stock images, either photographically
or in words, don't fit Ms. Allard creates her own. And when there
is a need for an outlet, creatively, Ms. Allard acts to create
one. Her optimism and insight leads us to a better understanding
of our place in nature and our world. Her writing is multidimensional
matching a photographer's vision with a wordsmith's exceptional
use of our language.
Shirley Allard's blog site is: http://whispersinthewind.wordpress.com/
Jo Janoski
Jo Janoski is
proudly from Pittsburgh, PA. Her husband, a professional photographer,
taught Ms. Janoski how to use a camera and frame a shot that
would capture her beloved city. She has successfully exhibited
her works in the Juried Exhibition and the Artists' Market of
the Three Rivers Arts Festival for over 20 years. Jo and her
husband sell pictures of Pittsburgh to the world (see their photo
site at www.janoskistudio.com).
She turns that same trained eye to her
verse.
Winds strum music
on leaves like harp strings.
Hymns ricochet through forest.
Sun sings soprano; birds chime alto.
Bees punctuate, humming low
'til fading sun bows
in beauty.
("Forest Hymns")
Ms. Janoski's command of the language is
matched by her use of form and function. "Forest Hymns"
is an example of a septet. She consistently writes to specified
form. Modern poetry has turned away from using specified forms,
however Ms. Janoski has the ability to write within forms that
only confuse other writers.
Earth's fickle lover
On whimsy she showers rain
Next nods to make snow
Then claps her hands for thunder
Or paints new mornings with dew.
("A Tanka about Nature")
She did not pick up writing until the turn
of this century. She started writing after discovering other
writers on the internet. She joined some other writers in a workshop
to learn different forms. She states that she thought by following
solid syllabication and rhyme formats she would be able to reach
an understanding of poetry's capabilities. Her command of the
language and her brevity using the precise word patterns leads
her photographer's trained eye on the world of words.
Inside the dusty cauldron
that passes for my mind
a picture show is playing
Jo's Song, the annals of time.
...
I'll be here long after life,
speaking of my unique time.
Lingering words reciting
my days in rhythm with rhyme.
("Poets Speak Longer")
To Ms. Janoski poetry is both an endeavor
and compulsion. "I'm trying to whip my words out and fling
them at people, making them wake up to the world around them."
The endeavor of fitting them to a specific form leads to her
brevity and careful selection of exacting words. Her principle
influence besides the beauty and power of nature would be Robert
Frost's love of nature. It is this spirit that she attempts to
and most successfully captures.
His love of nature stirs music within
Making brooks ring out like sleigh bells in snow
While mid-summer birds know when not to sing
Walk through his ghost house, aching hearts to know.
("Like Frost")
As with most internet poets, Ms. Janoski
enjoys the freedom that online communities provide while not
taking it all seriously. She is the self-proclaimed Poet Laureate
of Pennsylvania. As she states, "Let's face it, politicians
feed on money and brood over where it's coming from next. They
don't have a Poet Laureate because they folded up the office
that had contained it, no doubt for budgetary reasons. So if
there's no money changing hands, they won't be interested."
Even though the following states Texans,
it can be seen as politicians in the voice of Ms. Janoski. It
is a kyoka, a poem like a limerick that makes fun of politicians
or events. It has a syllabic scheme of: 5, 7, 5, 7, 7, rhyming
is not necessary.
... spin big yarns
like Granny's week long potluck,
greasy-spoon stirred slop.
Big talk fueled by big bucks.
Thanks to cowboy big oil wells.
...
Ten gallons of oil.
Money to be super-sized.
... need more space
to stretch out big feets and thighs
while counting up big oil loot.
("Big Texas")
Ms. Janoski has three published books that
are all Pittsburgh based. Not just because she is a Pittsburgh
enthusiast, but she has a companion book of photography. Her
poetry can be found online at:
http://authorsden.com/visit/viewpoetry_all.asp?Authorid=7051
http://jojanoski.wordpress.com/
http://musecrafters.com/jojanoski
Janoski, Jo. (2004) Tea and Chocolates.
PublishAmerica: Frederick, MD.
Janoski, Jo. (2004) Faithful.
PublishAmerica: Frederick, MD.
Janoski, Jo. (2006) Bridges to Burn.
lulu.com: Morrisville, NC.
You may have noticed by now that all three
of the featured artists are women. My previous columns were about
great American male poets. I felt it time to sing the praises
of women. And not just historical women, but those alive and
doing well in this updated medium of the electronic age. There
are many other's worthy of your time and some of them are even
male. But I invite you to spend time exploring. The following
are other poets using the current technology to it fullest and
who offer insight into our world (just read some of the poets
offered here at WordCatalyst).
Elizabeth Anne Easter http://darksoulpoetry.stolze.us/
Tiel Aisha Ansari http://knockingfrominside.blogspot.com/2006/04/sadness-wine.html
Now, please don't mistake this column as
an academic paper on all of the qualities of these poets. I could
now start quoting experts who believe such and so, but I ask
you to participate. Go and explore. Don't let me tell you all
that I know, which is only but a twinkling of their stars. I
hope that I've opened a door. Now, it is up to you to enter.
Thanks.
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