I find this comparison fascinating Stephen, as I remember those Snyder
poems well (have my copy of that Fulcrum Press volume [boy, did they do
fine books]).
Sounds (ha) like the silence allowed for a certain kind of words to get
way in. Welcome back after such a fine trip out of the noise...
Doug
On 30-Jan-06, at 5:21 PM, Stephen Vincent wrote:
> Haphazardly - Jill - tho with some intention I was rereading early Gary
> Snyder poems, particularly the series called RipRap (sensing out the
> similarities and differences with the scultural text work of Richard
> Long)
> and I - after 5 days of mostly speechless silence, I opened on your
> snap
> and, wow, how close this is to the early Snyder. Not to discount your
> poem
> at all, but the wilderness resonances are so close. I would not know
> if you
> have read Snyder - who particularly in the sixties and early seventies
> - was
> very popular in USA & England. In London, Fulcrum Press, did a
> Collected
> Poems: A Range of Poetry) in 1967 when Snyder was only 37 years old!
>
> Sorry I digress, but just a Snyder taste, in relation to yours:
>
>> One night, falls, the cold glare lit
>> that not a cloud, polished sheets
>> moon forms hills, previewed spirit
>> breaks much blew, darkness, horizon.
>
> Mid-August At Sourdough Mountain Lookout
>
> Down valley a smoke haze
> Three days after five days rain
> Pitch glows on the fir cones
> Across rocks and meadows
> Swarms of new flies.
>
> I cannot remember things I once read
> A few friends but they are in cities.
> Drinking cold snow water from a tin cup
> Looking down for miles
> Through high still air.
>
> *
>
> Your poem, as I read it, clearly allows more 'disturbance' into the
> content,
> or cannot fully escape it, where Snyder's poem is intent on a clarity
> that
> transcends being immobilized by 'disturbance'.
>
> Anyway I like what you are working through (the materials), allowing
> that
> challenge.
>
> Stephen V
Douglas Barbour
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