The READIN Family Album
Me and Sylvia, walkin' down the line (May 2005)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

All I wanna do is fall in love, while there's still time.

Robyn Hitchcock


(This is a subset of my posts)
Front page
More posts about Projects

Archives index
Subscribe to RSS
Follow on Facebook
Follow video posts

This page renders best in Firefox (or Safari, or Chrome)

Tuesday, September 23rd

Poetry activity

A couple of things have been happening lately in the world of "poetry by J. Osner"... The chapbook of the Universidad Desconocida workshop was presented at the kickoff event for the workshop's second year. It features three of my poems and lots of beautiful writing from other student's -- and I've just finished a translation of Isabel Zapata's "Sleepwalker's Lullaby" from the chapbook. ...Two of my poems (both from Analogies for Time) were published in Issue 5 of Street Voice (I think it is the first time I have ever appeared in a poetry journal), and I'm in touch with the editor about submitting some more work.

posted morning of September 23rd: Respond
➳ More posts about Writing Projects

Saturday, September 20th

The tintinnabulation of the night

Here is an idea I am liking, poetry-wise: I think I've hit on this rhythm and voice that will allow me to propel the text, to follow almost blindly the beats and consonants of the text and ultimately even to transcend the text. Here is a piece I wrote in that fashion, following this meter, yesterday -- as I say I like it, and find this a pleasant voice to adopt, cute, (semi blatant) echoes of Poe and of Whitman -- formally of one, excitement-wise of the other. The poem is to a prompt from Describli.

Lines ii

by J. Osner


Read between the lines,
lines marking boundaries that
separate *within* from what's
without. Read behind the
words, the printed words are
only messengers, the poem
that's behind them's what you
need. Read between the lines,
dividing lines between the
text and empty paper. Read
behind the words, read
through the text, it's a distraction from the message
graven deep on every page.
Read behind the page, now
read the emptiness around
you, shining message, read
the tintinnabulation of the
night, the air around you's humming,
breathing, clicking, pounding, every line
of every poem you've ever
read's inscribed there, see it,
read it, listen to the meter of
the poem that's behind the
text you're reading in the
sweet night air, encoded
in the symbols of the lines.

posted afternoon of September 20th: Respond
➳ More posts about Projects

Saturday, September 13th

Reading y fiesta

It's all going down tonight at McNalley-Jackson Books in the city. I'll be reading my poem "Formación" from the book of the Universidad Desconocida from last term, which is being presented. Plus music and dancing! Come by if you're in the neighborhood.

posted afternoon of September 13th: Respond

Just

At first I didn't quite know what I would do with the book, other than read it over and over again.

Orhan Pamuk

by J. Osner

The book is just a dream
transfixed
on ink and paper
bound in rags
it's open on the table
just a book.

The book's an ancient river
stately
regal river
flowing softly
dried up on the page
it's just a book.

The book was wilderness
now logged
and pulped for paper
new edition
standing on the bookshelf
just a book.

The book is just a poem
a whisper
sound of turning pages
hear it
read it by the river
just a book.

The book's a dream transformed
transmuted
edited and copyrighted
pull it off the shelf and open
read the words and hear the whisper
trace the patterns graven
in the book.


(to a prompt from Describli)

posted morning of September 13th: Respond
➳ More posts about Readings

Saturday, July 26th

Some recent poetry



The moment of the poem, by J. Osner

Poems you read, they shape you – watch the singsong of their syllables chase images of darkness and light down syntactic tunnels. Follow the syllable along the corridor to where it leads; act out solemn ritual of determination.
The poem (if it's successful) always functions on some level as a metaphor for time: the reader's memory will integrate the poem (if it's successful) so its meter and its rhyme make up a cauldron through which filters reader's vision of experience: the moment, just off-kilter, just opaque enough to shadow (just concrete enough to straddle) future and the past which bubble up through the poem (if it's successful) and comprise the self you narrate to the world.

Δt

There is no calculus of consciousness.
The moment that you dwell in is no delta t,
no limit;
its kaleidoscopic boundaries recede.

posted afternoon of July 26th: Respond

Friday, July 11th

Linearity

Working on another chapbook -- this one is tentatively titled "The moment of the poem: Extensions".

posted morning of July 11th: 1 response

Monday, June 16th

Another analogy for time

"The Cauldron of Verse" by J. Osner,

The poem (if it's successful) always functions on some level
as a metaphor for time: the reader's memory will integrate
the poem (if it's successful) so its meter and its rhyme make up
a cauldron through which filters reader's vision of experience:
the moment, just off-kilter, just opaque enough to shadow
(just concrete enough to straddle) future and the past which bubble
up through the poem (if it's successful)
and comprise the self you narrate to the world.

posted evening of June 16th: 1 response

Friday, May 16th

Intenciones extendidas

El poemario es cosa física!

posted afternoon of May 16th: 2 responses
➳ More posts about The Unknown University

Saturday, May third

Génesis

por J Osner

Antes
de mandarle al Agua
que sea agua
ni a la Tierra que sea tierra
ni tampoco a la luz
y la oscuridad que se separen
debe hacer creador el Fuego
y lo dejar
Arder.

posted afternoon of May third: Respond
➳ More posts about The Bible

la Universidad Desconocida: week 2

I presented my chapbook of biblical verse, and got good notes. Primarily -- I should keep my poems short and intense, and resonant; anchor the ideas in imagery; and surprise the reader. The favorite was "Esquéleto":

Esquéleto

Esto son mis huesos
desnudos; vestilos
en carne, inspirámelo
el Espíritu a mí.
Planteá Vos la sembra espiritual
que crezca y florezca profecía
derramámelo
fornicámelo
que sueñe yo los sueños
de iluminación
Readings for next week are Latin American vanguard poems, a beautiful selection (which somehow manages to omit Pasos and Cuadras).

posted morning of May third: 1 response
➳ More posts about Roberto Bolaño

Previous posts about Poetry
Archives

Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
    •
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.

What do you think?

The Modesto Kid on Two epigraphs

The Modesto Kid on Dark Star/ Howl (3 responses)

Where to go from here...

Comix
Blogs
Music
Texts
Woodworking
Programming
South Orange
Friends and Family
readincategory