Archive for the 'Robert Creeley' Category

Robert Creeley – Two Poems & Two Photos – May 21, 2016

Saturday, May 21st, 2016
  • !allenCreeley-JonathanWilliams
    Robert Creeley (Photo by Jonathan Williams)

  • I know a man

    by Robert Creeley

    As I sd to my
    friend, because I am
    always talking,—John, I

    sd, which was not his
    name, the darkness sur-
    rounds us, what

    can we do against
    it, or else, shall we &
    why not, buy a goddamn big car,

    drive, he sd, for
    christ’s sake, look
    out where yr going.

    Poem via

  • 1allenginsberg_Creeley
    Ginsberg, Anne Wildman and Robert Creeley.

  • Anne Wildman she has multiplied – number song.

  • America
    by Robert Creeley

    America, you ode for reality!
    Give back the people you took.

    Let the sun shine again
    on the four corners of the world

    you thought of first but do not
    own, or keep like a convenience.

    People are your own word, you
    invented that locus and term.

    Here, you said and say, is
    where we are. Give back

    what we are, these people you made,
    us, and nowhere but you to be.

    “America” Creeley’s poem serves to highlight the inconsistent attitude of America. Too often the nation is caught up in world affairs rather than addressing the issues at home.” via


    Thursday, November 29th, 2007

    First winter rain by Matsuo Basho

    First winter rain–
    even the monkey
    seems to want a raincoat.

    Rain Rain Rain Rain Monoprints by Fung Lin Hall
    Three Monoprints by Fung Lin Hall

    The Rain by Robert Creeley

    All night the sound had
    come back again,
    and again falls
    this quite, persistent rain.

    What am I to myself
    that must be remembered,
    insisted upon
    so often? Is it

    that never the ease,
    even the hardness,
    of rain falling
    will have for me

    something other than this,
    something not so insistent–
    am I to be locked in this
    final uneasiness.

    Love, if you love me,
    lie next to me.
    Be for me, like rain,
    the getting out

    of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
    lust of intentional indifference.
    Be wet
    with a decent happiness.

    Marjorie Perloff on Robert Creeley’s Radical Poetics.

    A Lesson in Breathing We Loved , We Still Love

    Friday, April 1st, 2005

    Robert Creeley
    The above image shows two books by Robert Creeley, the one pictured is Elsa’s Housebook which I bought on my first trip to Boston. Read and see two terrific photos from Elsa Dorfman.

    Found this poem “Creeley Led” by Crag Hill, here.

    (Bresson’s Movies is a poem many love and are now going around the blogosphere. Bresson sounds like a lesson in Breathing, who is Bresson? )

    Bresson’s Movies

    A movie of Robert
    Bresson’s showed a yacht,
    at evening on the Seine,
    all its lights on, watched

    by two young, seemingly
    poor people, on a bridge adjacent,
    the classic boy and girl
    of the story, any one

    one cares to tell. So
    years pass, of course, but
    I identified with the young,
    embittered Frenchman,

    knew his almost complacent
    anguish and the distance
    he felt from his girl.
    Yet another film

    of Bresson’s has the
    aging Lancelot with his
    awkward armor standing
    in a woods, of small trees,

    dazed, bleeding, both he
    and his horse are,
    trying to get back to
    the castle, itself of

    no great size. It
    moved me, that
    life was after all
    like that. You are

    in love. You stand
    in the woods, with
    a horse, bleeding.
    The story is true.

    “To Bresson, add Creeley (a Robert to a Robert, as shown by the witty enjambment of lines one and two). The poem puts the poet in the picture, and a binary lyric system prepares to close. But not yet, not quite.” (read from here)

    “We see, for instance, that collaboration has not been a sideline for the poet, but rather, that Creeley has consistently built many of his strongest poems out of relationships with visual artists.” (Read more here.)

    Still Life with Donald Saltan
    Collaborating with Gary Indiana and with Francesco Clemente , more here.

    “For any young readers out there start with his early book FOR LOVE and keep going. The work expands over a rich & full life.” (from Patti Smith site, a tribute by Ann Waldman).

    From Alan Sondheim, “He taught the value of the word and the spaces that fell through so that the poem disappeared.” (read more here. )

    Darren Hughes just posted on his blog the release of Bresson’s
    donkey film au hazard Balthazar from the Criterion Dvd Collection.

    Goodbye – Robert Creeley RIP+Vincent & Nina

    Wednesday, March 30th, 2005

    (This sad news came from Ron Silliman’s blog. More here, and here.)

    Black Mountain poet fired by an elemental energy (from the Guardian)

    Goodbye by Robert Creeley

    Now I recognize
    it was always me
    like a camera
    set to expose

    itself to a picture
    or a pipe
    through which the water

    might run

    or a chicken
    dead for dinner
    or a plan
    inside the head

    of a dead man.
    Nothing so wrong
    when one considered
    how it all began.

    It was Zukofsky’s
    “Born very young into a world
    already very old…”
    The century was well along

    when I came in
    and now that it’s ending,
    I realize it won’t
    be long.

    But couldn’t it all have been
    a little nicer,
    as my mother’d say. Did it
    have to kill everything in sight,

    did right always have to be so wrong?
    I know this body is impatient.
    I know I constitute only a meager voice and mind.
    Yet I loved, I love.

    I want no sentimentality.
    I want no more than home.
    (Poem is from here).

    Van Gogh
    Vincent van Gogh was born in Groot Zundert, The Netherlands on 30 March 1853, (from here.)
    Read his Letters on his birthday.

    Read this article today. Olivier Assayas said, “Maggie is a mystery,” he says, finally. “I don’t know if I ever fully understood her. I thought I did, but she’s even more of a mystery to herself.”
    A parting gift for Maggie (from here.)

    Another (the) Long Goobye took place in Arizona.
    Funny Long Face says goodbye to Nina this morning.