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Saturday, September 13th, 2014
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.
posted morning of September 13th, 2014: 1 response
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Saturday, July 26th, 2014
The moment of the poem, by J. Osner
Poems you read, they shape you –
watch the singsong of their syllables
chase images of light and shadow down syntactic tunnels.
Creep down along the sung semantic corridor to where it leads;
act out some 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, 2014: 1 response
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Friday, July 11th, 2014
Working on another chapbook -- this one is tentatively titled "The moment of the poem: Extensions".
posted morning of July 11th, 2014: 1 response
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Monday, June 16th, 2014
"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, 2014: 1 response
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Friday, May 16th, 2014
El poemario es cosa fÃsica!
posted afternoon of May 16th, 2014: 2 responses
➳ More posts about The Unknown University
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Saturday, May third, 2014
Génesispor 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, 2014: 1 response
➳ More posts about The Bible
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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, 2014: 1 response
➳ More posts about Roberto Bolaño
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Sunday, April 27th, 2014
Para hacer retrato de un alondro del cielo
por J Osner
Piensa primero una jaula
con la puerta abierta
--Jacques Prévert
pero la alondra no se deja captar, tampoco en la jaula cantará
ni en el lienzo del pintor; ni
en la página blanca del poeta. Los silbidos trinantes
de mid-80's video games
se oyen encima del campo
y se desvanecen; fugaces
como toda hermosa
posted afternoon of April 27th, 2014: 1 response
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both very much still works in progress; I'm liking the progress... Bienvenida
por J Osner
Pues imaginá
escena
de atardecer---es
casi oscuro
pero
no podrÃas dar número
ni asignar nombre
a los mil tonos
de sombra que se efrentan
a tus ojos
mentales
pero recordalas
estas rayas de falta
de color
porque son
tu alma
La ontogenia recapitula la filogenia
por J Osner
Cada lectura del poema recapitula
las dudas y incertidumbres
los desasosiegos del autor
en que consiste
su escritura
como árbol se crece el poema
de la haz de la página fecunda
sembrada con sentido
consiste el poema
en ramificaciones
del sentido original
cada vez multiplicándose
hasta que
no se puede decir
en cuáles ramas
se van a florecer
la hermosura y la perspicacia
ni qué van a significar
y cada lectura recapitula
esta procesa de derivación -- saltá
y agarrá
la rama principal; asà se empezarÃa
tu ascenso
Tus manos carecen
corteza áspera del texto
los carecen a tus ojos
los contornos suaves
de la letra
y a tus oÃdos los sonidos broncos
del incertidumbre del poeta
posted afternoon of April 27th, 2014: Respond
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Saturday, April 26th, 2014
La presa
por J Osner
Las lÃneas suaves y lÃquidas
del poema
se deslizan en su corriente
entre rumor de historia antigua
entre voces que a uno le reavivan la memoria
de conocidos -- Ãntimos
y más distantes --
y quizá también de extranjeros --
sobre una presa dura
de emociones
una estructura intelectual que debe mostrarselo
a través del corriente rápido
de sonidos
pero
nunca tan claramente
porque nunca están identicas
ni pueden serlo
la forma y la intención
y la una oscurece a la otra
como piedras
en el lecho del rÃo
se parecen los attributos
del poema
como un canto
cuyas letras se deben ignorar
para entenderlo
posted evening of April 26th, 2014: Respond
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