Kooser and Accessiblity: I broke the rules

When he was Poet Laureate, one of Ted Kooser’s main messages was accessibility. He argued that good poems should be accessible. He used the analogy of the glass bottom boat. The poem is a glass bottom boat the reader looks through or reads to enter the poem. Kooser argues putting an object on the glass or dropping an object on the surface interferes with the understanding and enjoyment of the experience. This interference can be anything from using 5 instead of five or an & instead of and.
I argue that Kooser misses an entire aspect of poetry and of art. Modernist painters learned that the picture was the illusion. Painters strived for centuries to make the painting look as “real” as possible. The frame itself, is a replica of the window frame to create the illusion of looking outside at a “real” scene. In the 19th century, painters begin to realize the picture is the illusion. The “real” is the paint on the canvas. A painting is an arrangement of lines, colors, and forms on a flat surface. This arrangement can lead to or trigger emotions, concepts, or ideas, but the reality is the paint on the canvas.
A poem is an arrangement of words and symbols on a page. How these words are arranged can lead to emotions, meanings, stories… Pound and definitely cummins realized a poem is words and symbols on a page. Sometimes dropping an object on the glass is part of the poem. The poem is about the arrangement as well as or even instead of the narrative.

The previous posts were some poems I have written over the last few years which clearly disagree with Kooser's opinon.

Poem: Gadfly

GADFLY

Gladly gadfly
Happenstance randomness
Goals unknown
No cares declared
Lives tomorrows today.

Poem: A Poem Self-Referential

A Poem
Self-referential


1 1
The first line
is itself
a one;
5 and a 5 the fifth
at five
The stanza break:
why?
a new thought?
10 or arbitrary for form?
Meter, verse, and rhythm?
word choice?
Planned or happenstance?
The theme, the subject?
15 a narrative?
ode or tribute?
lyric?
The poem itself
will conclude
20 at its volition.

Poem: I AND ME MEET SHE (cummins tribute)

I AND ME MEET SHE

when I and Me
met She
It was love at first sight for three
I and She dated
as did Me and She
and I and Me remained friends
though both loved she
Me was injured when
a car veered wide
I and She cried
when their friend died
and found the love
for I and She; and
Me and She; and
I and Me; and
I and Me and She;
could not last
without Me
so I took to drink
and lost himself
and She took men
like children with candy
as Me slowly rots
the three now alone.

Poem: Me (is me)

ME
meisme is meisme
tobeme is tobemeis tobe
freetobeme freetobe
is tobefree meistobefree
meisme

Poem: I am Lost

I AM LSTO

Iam lsto
The ideas, the concepts
the quagmiire of too many, to sort, to understand,
of opposing views, of opposition, of destruction,
as words, written and spoken, few understood, few accepted
as most fly on past, to the past, gone before I can understand them,
as channels change, and pages turn, too quickly, too gone, too gone, too gone,
I am lost.
As I sit at my computer, writing, composing, decomposing, the words of the great,
I realize how few, and how too many the greats were, and the greats aren’t and
I start
confused, cfoneusued - iedas, cceonpts, hTe sntecne, as I wtrie it, bceoems cfseonud nda lsot in oot mnay iedas form yteredeasy nad tdoay. aWtl hiWmtamn is het fehtar of dab pertoy.
So I srot het iedas oznigarng tehm by ptirioy an
Iam lsto.

Poem: I Love you in Forty-One Languages

I LOVE YOU in 41 LANGUAGES

Ek het jou lief; Ohhe-buk; Nin ko nga; Chit pa de; Ngor oi ley; T’estimo; Noi makokonda; Ndimakukonda; Ik hou vanje; Mi amas vin; Mina rakastan sinus; Je t’aime; Tha gradh agam ort Ich liebe dich; Se ero Ndiinoluda, Te amo; Jag alskar dig; I Chaa di Garn; Iniibig kita; Mahal kita; Phom Rak Khun; Keyagorata; Seni seviyorum; Mi-an aap say piyar karta hun; ‘Rwy’n dy garu di; Ikh hob dikh lib; Ngiya kuthanda; I love you.

Poem: Tobacco Mosaic Virus (found poem)

Tobacco Mosaic Virus
Tobacco Mosaic Virus, Dahlemense Strain, also know as:
A
ce
tyl
sery
ltyro
sylser
yiisole
ucylthr
eonylse
rylprolyl
serylgluta
minylphen
ylalanylvaly
lphenylanyl
leucylserylse
rylvalyltrypsop
hylalanylasparty
lprolylisoleucylgl
utamylleucylleuc
ylasparaginylvalylc
ysteinylthreonylse
rylserylleucylglycyl
asparaginylgutaminy
lphenylalanylglutamin
ylthreonylgutaminylglu
taminylalglutaminylaany
larginylthreonylthreonyl
glutaminylvalyglutaminylg
lutaminylphenylalanylseryl
glutaminylvalyltryptophylly
sylprolylphenylalanylprolylg
lutaminylserylthreanylvalylar
ginylphenylalanylalanylprolylg
lyclaspartylvalyltryrosllysylvaly
tr
nylvalylleucylaspartylprolylleucy
lisoleucyltheonylalanylleucylleuc
ylglycylthreonylphenylalanylaspar
tylthreorylarginylaspargiylarginyliso
leucylisoleucylglutamylvalylglutamyla
sparginlglutaminylgutaminylserylproly
threonylthreonylalanylglutamylthreon
ylleucylaspartylalanylthreonylarginylar
ginylvalyplaspartylaspartylalnylthreonyl
valylalanylisoleucylarginylserylalanylaspa
rainylisoleucylasparaginylleucylvalylasparag
inylglutamylleucylvlylarginylglyclthreonylglc
ylleucyltrosylasparaginylglutaminlasparaginyl
threonylphenylalanylglutamylserylmethionyls
erylglycylleucylvalytryptophylthreonylserylalanylprolylalanylserine
Acetylseryltyrosylseryiisoleucylthreonylserylprolylserylglutaminylphenylalanylvalylphenylanylleucylserylserylvalyltrypsophylalanylaspartylprolylisoleucylglutamylleucylleucylasparaginylvalylcysteinylthreonylserylserylleucylglycylasparaginylgutaminylphenylalanylglutaminylthreonylgutaminylglutaminylalglutaminylaanylarginylthreonylthreonylglutaminylvalyglutaminylglutaminylphenylalanylserylglutaminylvalyltryptophyllysylprolylphenylalanylprolylglutaminylserylthreanylvalylarginylphenylalanylalanylprolylglyclaspartylvalyltryrosllysylvalytrosylarginyltyrosylaspaginylalanylvalylleucylaspartylprolylleucylisoleucyltheonylalanylleucylleucylglycylthreonylphenylalanylaspartylthreorylarginylaspargiyvlylarginylglyclthreonylglcylleucyltrosylasparaginylglutaminlasparaginylthreonylphenylalanylglutamylserylmethionylserylglycylleucylvalytryptophylthreonylserylalanylprolylalanylserine

Poem: Brand Name Narrative

BRAND NAME NARRATIVE

Match.com
AOL.com
Yahoo.com
FTD
Godiva
Red Lobster
Beringer
Absolute
AMC
Beringer
Absolute
Seily
Trojan
First Response
Pampers
Zales
Lord and Taylor
David’s Bridal
Travelocity.com
Hawaiian Air
Hilton
Chevy Venture
La Petite
Barney
NBC
Tonight's Show
Seily
Valuim

Poem: Broken Man

The
RO
B KE
E
N
ANm
The
Bro
ken
M
a
n I
N
r e s/S r S
F
g d D
E
HIDDEN
h
Weo
l F
A
The C
A
D
E
e
H C
r e a A
L
i O
N
E
The broken man

Ax

EX
Ex
Ax
Axed
Exed
Axxeexxa
Axeddexeexeddexa
XDDX

Ed Rawn

Ed Rawn passed away two summers ago. He was remarkable. He was a giant in size and in spirit. Every Saturday, we would all meet. He would sit and listen giving everyone his full attention. Occasionally, he would add a few words in the richest baritone. His voice was music.

Ed was many things: a scholar, an educator, a mentor, a friend, a counselor, a minister, and a giant. He joked that when he went he wanted not to be buried, but he wanted the big burn. Let the earth have his ashes.

Ed was the kindest and wisest man I ever knew. I wrote these words about him:

GIANT HEART

Giant heart anticipated the big burn
Sitting subtle giving deft philosophy
In cello baritone

In sparse words Giant Heart
Specifics wisdom and smiles
In warm waves toward everyone

As conversation flows from smile
To smile he listens nodding
The comfort of friends

Giant Heart
Improved all he knew
In word caresses as brilliant as flowers
Ideas the sublime of sunset

The good doctor, the giant man
From dust to ash, opened many lives
A space we can never fill.

God's Wife

God’s Wife

Tuesday
I met God’s wife
Or so she said
Reading some magazine with muscles
And drinking coffee at Borders
I believe a latte
A nice enough woman
Pretty, with brown hair and eyes
Looking like any one of thousands
Of women you see in a month
No prettier
Her husband is omnipotent
I don’t believe she is
At least she did nothing to make me believe
She added sugar to her coffee
And had to wipe crumbs from the corner of her mouth with a napkin
Which fell and lingered on her blouse between her breasts
And I noticed she had a run in her stocking
When she stood to go to the restroom.
But she said she was God’s wife
Not his first
They had met in 1542
On a dirt path in Spain
Near some pastures
On the southern coast
God was sitting on a boulder
Wearing the robe and the sandals
With wild white hair and a wizard’s beard
The whole God-thing ensemble
Just sitting there
Head on his hands watching a sheep
Maybe wondering if he had goofed
He looked pensive with pursed lips
And maybe a little sad
God’s Wife knew he was God
Somehow she knew
She watched him for awhile
Out of his line of sight
But she knew
He knew she was there
So she asked?
-God-
-Why are you so sad?-
-I messed up sheep-
-So now, well...
-they're sheep-
-Yes, but why else are you sad?-
-My wife died last night-
-Oh I’m sorry-
Well God’s wife
Talked to God
That day, and the next, and the next
Without sleep or eating or drinking
He had so much to talk about
And when she talked to him
She had so much to say
About things she never knew she knew
She fell in love with his wild eyes
Which changed color with his moods:
Yellows and greens and crimson cobalt and
Deepest black and the white of pure light when he grew livid
And she fell in love with his mane
Of white which danced as he spoke
Punctuating his sentences with floating and flying
God’s wife - just a butcher’s daughter
Not even sixteen
Knew she was pretty, but others were prettier
And she was lithe and wore herself with assuredness
They were married in the town’s little Gothic church
With father Dominic presiding
God’s wife’s family was there
As well as everyone in the little Spanish town
And everyone from the area
Most sat on her side
How could some decide?
To sit on his side?
The priests and monks and nuns
Even though they were family
Thought sitting on his side
Vain
Still some did
To be polite
And were uncomfortable
Along with the crazy man
Who talks to himself
Who God welcomed by name
And a funny crow who cawed
At the right times
And some odd men in strange clothes
Who sat in the back
And talked to no one
But themselves
The ceremony was short
And the priest was uncomfortable
With the vows
-In God’s name, I mean your name-
Everyone congratulated the couple
And they walked off to the east
Arm in arm
God’s wife
She returned home frequently
Never missing a birthday
Nor an anniversary
But as time passed and
She barely aged
Since she lived in a different time zone
Her family and friends all
Grew old and passed on so
She made new friends in
Bern, then Salzberg, then Moscow,
London, Paris, San Francisco,
Havana and Lima and
Now her friends in New York have passed on
Like the others before
So she sips a coffee and talked to
Me and gave me her cell phone number
It has 112 numbers all twos
And now I am her friend.


God's Wife was written about five years ago. It was published in Tales From the
Telling Tree: Pat Berge and Nancy North, editors.