Hi Rebecca
yes, that's from Life Sentence, a savage book in its way, yet highly
crafted. Mandel was a wide ranging poet, but he was fascinated by the
confessionals & did something with that possibility in that book. But
he did much more in others.
I'll have to check out that Howe. She is good.
Doug
On 25-Jan-05, at 10:12 AM, Rebecca Seiferle wrote:
> Oh, Doug, can you give me the title? I went to google and kicked up
> something
> like 17 titles for Mandel. Is the poem from _Life Sentence_ or
> something else? I'd
> much like to read it. Oh and this reminds me, there was a poem by
> Fanny Howe
> on Poetry Daily www.poems.com about two days ago that was very good. I
> meant to mention it on the list for it's a very evocative political
> poem, though
> it's probably in the archives now, and can be found easily with a
> search by
> author name.
>
> Best,
>
> Rebecca
>
>
> ---- Original message ----
>> Date: Tue, 25 Jan 2005 10:05:53 -0700
>> From: Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]>
>> Subject: Re: Gulag system
>> To: [log in to unmask]
>>
>> Glad you liked it, Rebecca.
>>
>> It's from a book of poems very personal, & working in an eerie way to
>> connect the speaker's jealousy to larger political concerns, or
>> vice-versa. Very powerful in places.
>>
>> Doug
>> On 25-Jan-05, at 9:39 AM, Rebecca Seiferle wrote:
>>
>>> Thanks much for this poem, Doug, I like it very much, especially the
>>> way it sort
>>> of breaks in the middle, here
>>>
>>>> if it is love that fingers in the mind
>>>> wake with a touch
>>>> curious
>>>> I remember only what was lost
>>>>
>>>> plotting my own purges and despairs
>>>
>>> as if breaking, interrupted by feeling, into some deep questioning of
>>> oneself,
>>> that troubling and being troubled, where these losses and lists
>>> intersect, so
>>> many thanks,
>>>
>>> Rebecca
>>> ---- Original message ----
>>>> Date: Tue, 25 Jan 2005 08:58:50 -0700
>>>> From: Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]>
>>>> Subject: Re: Gulag system
>>>> To: [log in to unmask]
>>>>
>>>> Some of the enws has been out there.
>>>>
>>>> I'm reminded of a poem by Canadian writer, Eli Mandel:
>>>>
>>>> Beware the Sick Lion
>>>>
>>>> They say Stalin at night
>>>> sleepless in the suburbs of Moscow
>>>> drew up long lists of enemies
>>>>
>>>> think of that dreadful paper
>>>>
>>>> to be sentenced by the pen
>>>> of an insomniac sleep-writing
>>>>
>>>> new stars wheel over Spain
>>>> bulldozers cut roads through groves
>>>> in Africa moors rule who once ruled Spain
>>>>
>>>> sleepless I pace before barred windows
>>>> fake-andalusian arches and toward sea
>>>> a Parador only cuts lines against the dark
>>>> where dark Greeks and Phoenicians sailed
>>>>
>>>> if it is love that fingers in the mind
>>>> wake with a touch
>>>> curious
>>>> I remember only what was lost
>>>>
>>>> plotting my own purges and despairs
>>>>
>>>> & as a poet, connecting it to questioning himself...
>>>>
>>>> This has been a very interesting conversation. And I too was
>>>> grateful
>>>> to get the url for the Ash article.
>>>>
>>>> Doug
>>>> Douglas Barbour
>>>> Department of English
>>>> University of Alberta
>>>> Edmonton Alberta T6G 2E5 Canada
>>>> (780) 436 3320
>>>> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/dbhome.htm
>>>>
>>>> The poet is ecstatic, having dreamt of this visit for weeks.
>>>> He takes Erato’s face, dribbling and wild, between his hands
>>>>
>>>> and kisses her gently as if she were a runaway teenager.
>>>>
>>>> Diana Hartog
>>>
>>>
>>
>>
>> Douglas Barbour
>> Department of English
>> University of Alberta
>> Edmonton Alberta T6G 2E5 Canada
>> (780) 436 3320
>> http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/dbhome.htm
>>
>> The poet is ecstatic, having dreamt of this visit for weeks.
>> He takes Erato’s face, dribbling and wild, between his hands
>>
>> and kisses her gently as if she were a runaway teenager.
>>
>> Diana Hartog
>
>
Douglas Barbour
Department of English
University of Alberta
Edmonton Alberta T6G 2E5 Canada
(780) 436 3320
http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/dbhome.htm
The poet is ecstatic, having dreamt of this visit for weeks.
He takes Erato’s face, dribbling and wild, between his hands
and kisses her gently as if she were a runaway teenager.
Diana Hartog
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