Category Archives: Poetics

Why

Because this and that sperm and egg happened to be reasonably compatible, and the gestation period passed without major complications, and our conditions at birth allowed each of us to continue breathing. Because of random mishaps avoided or not through … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Consciousness, Creativity, Epistemology, Evolution, John MacKenzie, Language, Memory, Neuroscience, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Science, The Brain, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Language is Hollow

It was mentioned to me yesterday that I haven’t been writing much. So I wrote. Language is Hollow for Megan Burke My language is grim because I was born in mid-century shadows cast by mushroom clouds, eyes narrowed against brightness … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Charlottetown, Epistemology, Gulls, Harbour, Hunger, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Poverty, Science, Social Commentary, The Earth, The Sea, The Sky, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Step Away from the Buddha: brief notes on reading and response, and on salvaging Haiku (and Two Haiku for April 22)

Spring is here, and, with it, a volume of Japanese Death Poems (compiled by Yoel Hoffmann) sent to me by Andrew Griffin. This book sat on my shelf for a few weeks as I gradually overcame my distaste for the … Continue reading

Posted in Andrew Griffin, Art is lies, Art is theft, Chinese poetry, Japanese Poetry, John MacKenzie, Magnolias, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Spring, The Wind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Yesterday’s Poem (notes on process)

I’ll get to yesterday’s poem, as promised, eventually. But first, some generalities. For me, these days, writing poems is a cold-blooded endeavour. I don’t wait for or depend upon a burn of emotion, a flash of insight, a moment of … Continue reading

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The Autumn Shift of Wind (with process note)

This poem started last night at work with this line, “the geese scrawl their lazy vees,” which became these lines, “in the sky already / the geese are dark, hurried scrawls,” and then spread both above and below them into … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Astrophysics, Autumn, Biology, Carbon, Cosmology, Creativity, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Science, The Moon, Wild Geese | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My Brother’s Deaths (poems from old notebooks, sometime in 1986)

This is the first successful poem I wrote, and it was an island in a sea of crap. It was a long time—at least two years—before I managed to write another piece that I would now consider worth calling a … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Cemetery, Creativity, Death, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Memory, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Summer, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Back to the Bog, Seamus

I came late to the poetry of Seamus Heaney. Death of a Naturalist was his first collection, and the first one I read—it sat on my bookshelf for 10 years before I read it.  It was worth the wait. His … Continue reading

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Bog, Bog poems, Consciousness, Death, Epistemology, John MacKenzie, Language, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Seamus Heaney, The Earth | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment