Getting a little deeper

It being Billy Collins' birthday, The Writer's Almanac featured a poem by His Laureateness today. Introduction to Poetry is a poem I use in my workshops with kids, but not, I think, Collins' finest.

Here's one I prefer, from the same book:

Walking Across the Atlantic

I wait for then holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.

Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
thinking about Spain,
checking for whales, waterspouts.

I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.

But for now I try to imagine what
this must look like to the fish below,
the bottoms of my feed appearing, disappearing.

Collins has said before that he feels he's at his best when he "has nothing to say", and I think comparing this poem to Intro demonstrates that. Atlantic is to me much more imaginative; I think Intro is funny, for sure, but the point is made early, and it could end either sooner or later to greater effect.

And a minor complaint to the Almanac: Old poems have been featured quite a bit, lately, and repeat poems at that. Aren't there any recent poets and poems worth presenting? Or even just newer work from the old favorites would be nice: this effort from Collins is circa 1988; I think he's published 6 books since then.

Bits and More Bits

Leafing through the Poetry Speaks 2009 calendar, a screenwriter friend came upon Billy Collins' haiku:

midwinter evening
alone at the sushi bar
just me and this eel

She asked "So what's so poetic about this?"

***

While it is true that creativity breeds creativity - that the act of creating makes the next act of creating easier for me - it is equally true that the creativity will come only in the form it wants to. The task, which has gotten a bit easier for me, is not to try to force the flow into a poem when it wants to be something else. Lately, the flow has taken a more professional slant, resulting in article and presentation ideas. Proposals have been made; more on that at the end of the month.

***

My screenwriter friend (see top) remarked elsewhere in our conversation that I was an aberration, being both creative and an engineer. That's an observation that usually gets the hair on the back of my neck up, but instead of my usual lecture on the creativity required to be a good problem solver (not to mention an inventor), let me offer a different exhibit. Here is the game company of a classmate (approximately) of mine; I've written before how a good game design is a good piece of writing, and I leave you to explore Blood and Cardstock's games to support my thesis. Let the Queen of Cards know if you think I'm right.

***

OK, I'll vent a little on creativity in engineering. Or let IEEE do it for me.

***

5 days to pitchers, catchers and KFC.

***

You think of an answer for my screenwriter friend yet? I surely haven't.

***

My grandmother would have been 95 today. At least a dozen times that I remember, she said to me "Do what you like. Dig a ditch. But dig the best ditch you can." So I keep digging.

Letter from a Legacy

My grandmother would have been 94 this month. This week, cleaning my office to make room for the FIOS tech, I came across a note she wrote to my wife and me and toward the end of the time she was able to take care of herself. She was in the process of bequeathing her apartment one box of trinkets and saltshakers at a time. The note was tucked into an Ogden Nash book she was sending to us because "David's a poet". I hadn't opened the book since she first sent it. That would have been about 10 years ago.

Ron Silliman was writing recently about Ogden Nash as someone who was popular during his own day, but whose work was destined not to last (he was placing Billy Collins and Ted Kooser in this category). Nash certainly didn't drive changes in the collective conscience (nor does Collins, nor Kooser), but I don't agree that the work hasn't lasted - I think there are dozens of Nash's short works that continue to be quoted and retold ("Candy is dandy", anyone?). I do think that as a collection, Nash's legacy isn't well-known, but whenever I've come across his poems, I've found something interesting, clever and still familiar. The works have separated from his name, perhaps. And it's not the kind of work that one turns to for reference when crafting presidential speeches or lectures on the history of modern art. It's not "Nash's legacy", maybe not even a noticeable legacy, but it's a present one.

And then there's my grandmother's note tucked into that Nash book.

Happy Birthday, Nana.