Saturday, July 29, 2006

On vacation...

Tomorrow, I head out for three weeks in lovely Denmark and Norway, where I will meet up with my good friends Rus, Paula (whom I will be meeting for the first time but who is a dear, dear friend nonetheless), Helm, Carol, hopefully Judy (though we haven't heard from her in a while), and our Norwegian host, Aisha. Every time we get together, it's been a blast, and this time will be no different for sure.

In any case, if I don't manage to blog while overseas, I wish you, my dear readers, a great August. I'll post pictures when I get back.

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Sunday, July 23, 2006

Two Years!

Today marks two years of FFTMC. Hard to believe, I know. It's also my nephew's 8th birthday today, whatever that strange little coincidence means.

Anyway, to celebrate (or start you laughing with derision, or simply to drive you away never to return), here is my first post, once again, in all its glory.


Lost in a crowd
I feel the secret thrill
of the middle aged
walking through in the bad
end of town in daylight

"Don't be scared
it's only street art"
scrawled on a wall
bikers and hookers
smiling at me

I'm not scared, oh no
just getting old
so I start a blog
maybe go to a rave tonight
drop some E

(or does "drop" apply only to acid?)
A better and cheaper solution
than buying a Ferrari
maybe buy a can of spraypaint
spray this on a wall

maybe need some editing though
I know I won't anyway
nor drop the E
but starting a blog
harmless fun, no?

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Friday, July 21, 2006

Robin Robertson

Thanks to my good friend Carol and the Canadian poetry journal Arc, I recently discovered Scottish poet Robin Robertson. Arc is running a series of "introductions" as part of a Scottish-Canadian poetry exchange, and Robertson is the July feature. This is a fine, well-written introduction to his work, but Carol, who is an extraordinarily insightful reader of poetry, has also contributed a fine post on Robertson on her blog.

The Arc article mention's Robertson's poem "Wedding the Locksmith's Daughter", which is a wonderfully musical, dark and erotic love poem. But I guess to describe it as a mere "love poem" is to do it an injustice (even though I have always felt that love, viewed by so many as an inappropriate topic for the modern poet, is still the purest motivation for poetry I can think of), since the poem works on so many levels: the physicality of erotic love; the perfect, complementary mesh of two minds ("Sunk home, the true key slots into its matrix"); the ecstasy of text and music finding their perfect matches ("the the way the sung note snibs on meaning/ and holds"); how the lines of a poem can fit together with such ease to produce such a rich picture (Dactyls, iambics —/ the clinch of words — the hidden couplings/ in the cased machine").

I need to get ahold of Robertson's books and study them. Here is a poet who, in the few poems that I have read, speaks to me in a way that I have only experienced with writers like Robert Frost, Elisabeth Bishop and Jane Kenyon.

Thanks Carol!

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Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Canoe Quest

People who know me know I'm a canoe nut. So when a friend of mine pointed me to this very cool site--Jay's Great Canadian Canoe Quest--I knew I had to blog it. This guy is paddling solo through Canada's vast Boreal forest along one of the old voyageur routes to raise money for CPAWS, the Canadian Parks and Wilderness Society.

The guy is courageous and strong, and he seems to know what he's doing. He built the canoe himself, and it's gorgeous!. He's already travelled well over 2000 km, but still has a ways to go before he reaches the Arctic Ocean. At this point, I think the last part of his trip is going to be cool (as in brrrrrr.).

Jay is keeping a journal, which has an RSS feed (here). I know I'll be following this with interest. It has been a long-time dream of mine to travel Canada's north. This summer, I'll get to at least travel north of the Arctic Circle for the first time, albeit in Norway, but one day, I really want to see some the vast wilderness that is northern Canada.

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