I am sorry that Robert Creeley died. I am sorry to say
that I did not like his poetry. I do not really understand
why because I tried hard to like it as he was one of the
proclaimed important American poets.
Peace, to Robert Creeley, and his family.
Tom
>Well, as I may or may not have said at some point here, it
>was hearing Robert Creeley read in El Paso, Texas, back
>in the mid- to late-sixties that introduced me to poetry as
>a life worth living in. I met him once or twice after that, and
>heard him read again only once, just several years ago in
>Baltimore.
>
>My favorite Creeley story is this one, and I'm not sure
>whether I heard it from him or another.
>
>This one's about the young Creeley, new to the writing of
>poetry himself, on a pilgrimage to Rutherford to see if he
>could find and meet William Carlos Williams. The tale, as
>I heard it, is that Creeley was so nervous, so reticent about
>meeting the good doctor that he walked past his house
>several times, looking anxiously at the door and windows
>of the house, walking around the block, coming back, and
>pacing some more. But then Williams, who'd been watching
>from inside went to the door and hollered out to Creeley,
>"Hey, there, young man! Come on in here. You must be
>looking for me."
>
>Hal "Always treat language like a dangerous toy."
> --Anselm Hollo
>
>Halvard Johnson
>===============
>email: [log in to unmask]
>website: http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard
>blog: http://entropyandme.blogspot.com/
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