J. Mark's comments (member since Oct 20, 2007)

J. Mark's comments from the ¡ POETRY ! group.

James wrote: "To the Observant Motorist Who Called Me Faggot

We have names for things we don't even understand.
The Doppler Effect, for instance. You have no idea

how it works, and neither do I, but I'm sure w..."

Wow, beautifully crafted. I love the quick introduction of the Doppler effect and the image of the blindfolded children. Great work.

R & R

I am going to be Labor Day
from now on. Send out velvet boxes
for your weary arms to lay in,
palms staring into the bright.

I will open your closets, spill
your shoes from their boxes onto the carpet
and lay your barking feet
into the tissue like fat and lazy bees
curling into poppies.
Hear the buzz of their snoring toes.

Quit rubbing your eyes.
I will give them a dark glass
of wine, drop them in
and let them gaze, half-closed
upon the ruby world,
tannin on their tongues of light.

Your creaking back I will collect,
wash, fluff, fold and return
in a bag of down collected only
from dreaming geese.

From now on,
I’m your Labor Day,
your manger, your solid 24
of succour and pamper, slow whispers
and kneading fingers, soft brushes,
soft breezes,
soft palms.

Please, when I come to you,
let me take your hands in mine.
You won’t need them
for that one full,
good and indolent day.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/onword/2009...

Mark has studied poetry with Steve Kowit and Sandra Alcosser at San Diego State University, Mary D’Alleva at San Francisco State University, and for the last six years has been a member of a poetry workgroup lead by Los Angeles poet, Laurel Ann Bogen. His poetry has been published in the college text, Active Voices IV, San Francisco’s Tea Party magazine and in Beyond Baroque’s on-line quarterly, Speechless. Oakland’s Augustino Dance Theater has staged performances of his poems, and recently, Mark was presented by Beyond Baroque and L.A. Poetry Festival as one of 2008’s Newer Poets.

Steve Kowit was my first poetry teacher almost 30 years ago(!), and I feel my debt to him every time I set pen to paper.

Dodo (for Anne Sexton)

Under white moons strapped tight
against night’s black leather,
pierced through with the terror of stars,
the Dodo steps warily
from the jungle of her dusty
and plasticene diorama.
Her asylum spread out
across continents, sightings
from remote corners, electricity humming
off the telegraph.

From corroded speakers,
the narrator’s static:
“Notice how the thin legs, the delicate feet,
balance the bulk of the canvas-covered torso,
the bulk of restraints and buckles,
the crest of feathers like hair
sparking forgetfulness.
She is posed emerging from her nest…”

…little more than a hollow
worried into the ground, defenseless,
Her eyes roll chameleonic,
see every direction at once:
one fixed behind her on the flat,
tempera depiction of her native landscape,
the other set on the horizon,
the plate glass, the academic museum,
the explanations and context,
maps of her territory,
dwindling over time.

What we won’t see is movement,
the tortured struggle of flightless wings.
What we don’t hear are the cries
that can only be guessed at,
the mating calls she turned in circles
around the last lover she had left,
the alkaline scent like crushed insect
on the tongue, the glorious ferment
of Death’s sweet
and overripe fruit.

I love the visceral depth of this piece. It's dark and sexy and has a great turn-of-the-century feel to it. I have to say, however, that the last two lines are absolutely wrong for this poem. They shift into language that isn't found throughout the rest of the piece, they tie up all of this darkness and blood and sexuality with super-saccharine hearts & flowers. "melodies of angels playing violins," is going to be hard to get away with for any poet. I say lose them and you have a much stronger poem. My two cents.

Thanks for the positive comments. I appreciate the info on embedding the poems. I could do that, as well, I guess, but I want them to be there for readers not in the group, as well.

Hello poets and poetry fans-
My name is J. Mark Beaver, a poet from Los Angeles, CA. I have posted some of my work under the "my writings" section of my page. If you care to, please take a look. I'd love to hear your impressions. I look forward to getting turned onto more great poetry and poets. Thanks.