Celebrated as a poet with clarity of expression
Finding words from everyday life
“Poetry”, he said, “Is a way of living…..
A human activity, like baking bread or playing basketball.”
His imagery drawn from the California countryside
“Uncorked wine, green whelks, rock crabs, sea spray and pepper trees”
His love of haiku and translations of Japan’s best
His poems of childhood and an alcoholic mother
His work so loved he is named U.S. Poet Laureate
He begins to see the poetry in world affairs and politics
He speaks out to business asking for more understanding
And more poetry awards
Encourages young poets to tell their stories
A teacher now 70 years of age
With is poet wife in her 60’s
They arrive to witness the behavior of students on his campus
And the behavior of campus police seeking to dismantle
“Occupy California”
He heard that students in their tents were “beaten viciously”
“In broad daylight”
“Without provocation”
They know that police are human too and try to reason with them
Without warning
His wife shoved to the ground by bully police
He cries out to help and he is clubbed
Truncheons swinging at heads and ribs and bellies
The crowd so dense it cannot retreat
The headline reads
Former Poet Laureate Robert Hass Clubbed By Police At UC BerkeleyThe tents are back the next night
The English department ready with a new sign
“Beat Poets, not beat poets”
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Kat Hudson
Eljekar
Darla Carmichael
Poor Woman
Elizabeth Priddy
Nusser
Salon.com
Comments
Good words.
HUGGGGGGGG
gets some action. old poet
oughta make poetry out
of that. I f he be
a Poet,
ha. May be he is grayhair FuzzyWuzzy.
The Man,
the Boss.
yah, i say, but bad georgie.
if he doesnt transmorgify into at least
a simulacrum of a simian-raised spirit.
behind it.
you too or
tis just me?
the chickens squawk, the hens are in the attic,
the eagle is on the top of the ark
right above that attic.
animals are ok to eat because why else would
they taste so yummy? yummmmmmmmm.flesh,
yah man i a monkey
i a predator
i aint no nut chewer baby
nor gatherer of insects, cept yeah, i eat bugs.
god had mercy on me long ago.
when i was just a proto man.
my sins were just animal instincts uncontrollable
or
seemingly
so.
the church protected us. then jesus got a fuckin life.
he is 30 now. and rollin along, incognito.
he was seen right here
yesterday,
but that now is now not now, if ya get my Hegel.
The goal to be reached is the mind’s insight
into what knowing is.
Impatience asks for the impossible,
wants to reach the goal without the means of getting there.
The length of the journey has to be borne with,
for every moment is necessary;
and again we must halt
at every stage,
for each is itself
a complete individual form,
and is fully and finally considered only so far as its determinate character is taken and dealt with
as a rounded and concrete whole,
or only so far as the whole is looked at in the light of the special
and peculiar character which this determination gives it. hegel. ha sorry. o so bored & wanting thanksgiving to get here soon.
It's on knife's edge.
One match will start the conflagration.
Mary,thank you for your gentle words.
Rated
that if he aint gonna write he ought to
show up in L.A. and get clubbed as
Total Poet of the Turtles. Toads, i mean.
i want to know, RP, if you seen my little black snuff case?
i left some legal snuff in there.
good stuff. if ya find it i would be obliged.
remember your Hegel:
"Poetry is the universal art of the spirit
which has become free in itself
and which is not tied down
for its realization to external sensuous material;
instead, it launches out
exclusively in the inner space
and the inner time
of ideas and feelings.
Introduction to Aesthetics (1842), tr
they are often bearded and very unkempt.
when i am out in public,
i am kempt.
my dad taught me that.
ginsberg was a hell of a guy.
the cosmic man's Whitman.
Whitman IS america,
and yet we forget that
whitman lived at the same time
as Lincoln and
the dreary Emerson.
and Blake, over there in England.
the guys, byron, keats and shelly delighted us
with their adventures to early death,
leaving good lookin corpse.
james dean did it later.
elvis, argh.
on the toilet. fat.
dylan still growling.
mick and the boys? dunno.
at the end of the dinosaur era of rock and roll, who made it?
dylan.
rolling stones.
that is it.
"you used to be so
amused
by Napoleon in rags
& the Language
that he used.
go to him now.
when ya aint you are invisible now & have no secrets to conceal"
let us hope and pray to the God of the perfect Light.got nothin
u got nothin to lose.
they are often bearded and very unkempt.
when i am out in public,
i am kempt.
my dad taught me that.
ginsberg was a hell of a guy.
the cosmic man's Whitman.
Whitman IS america,
and yet we forget that
whitman lived at the same time
as Lincoln and
the dreary Emerson.
and Blake, over there in England.
the guys, byron, keats and shelly delighted us
with their adventures to early death,
leaving good lookin corpse.
james dean did it later.
elvis, argh.
on the toilet. fat.
dylan still growling.
mick and the boys? dunno.
at the end of the dinosaur era of rock and roll, who made it?
dylan.
rolling stones.
that is it.
"you used to be so
amused
by Napoleon in rags
& the Language
that he used.
go to him now.
when ya aint you are invisible now & have no secrets to conceal"
let us hope and pray to the God of the perfect Light.got nothin
u got nothin to lose.
Your tribute to Hass and poetic description of what happened are necessary. We all need to be reminded that the One Percent are not playing fair. Not now, not ever.
Its just plain wrong!
~R~
this belongs in the Book of Dissent and Peaceful Resistance.
note: if we don’t quit, we will win.
- in solidarity with OWS.
In spring, I would want to be in NY. Yeah, in the shadows of what the Goncourt Brothers, in France, would do over a century back.
Embed themselves in the swirling activities and report on what must be not only witnessed -- but felt.
The best goes on, I guess ...