Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Sunday, April 3, 2011

POET OF THE DAY: Keith Flynn

What more to say about Keith Flynn other than he's a force of nature, a poet always on the lookout for more and more poetry? Musician, editor, teacher, essayist, organizer, day-dreamer, Keith is a Renaissance man. We are lucky to have him in North Carolina.
Keith Flynn (www.keithflynn.net) is the author of five books, including four collections of poetry: The Talking Drum (1991), The Book of Monsters (1994), The Lost Sea (2000), and The Golden Ratio (Iris Press, 2007), and a collection of essays, entitled The Rhythm Method, Razzmatazz and Memory: How To Make Your Poetry Swing (Writer's Digest Books, 2007). Flynn is founder and managing editor of The Asheville Poetry Review.



“If you are Chagall...”



If you are Chagall

then you believe that

fish can thresh wheat.

If you are Rodin,

the gods are your

playthings and their

hands are perfect.


The total work of art

is achieved through the

soul’s inner necessity,

the way music persuades

without argument.


In this world the horses

want to stand on their

back feet and walk

like a man, towering

over the human who

has infuriated them.


All the chimneys become

holy relics and the hills

raise their skirts and

cancan, with the trees

for legs and blue feet

built from pools of water,


kicking their heels as high

as the light will allow.

From the shore the boats

are dwarfed, meager vessels

whose eager travel is

blown to molecules, notes


of the sky that prompt

the boiling ocean to pound

all attempts to tame it.

Gravity has long been

banished from this kingdom,

where the moon is the


only law and the horses

walk upright into the waves.

Their riders trail like birds

in the barking wake.

Every horse is secretly,

romantically, involved with


the sea and when they

sleep they dream of

whales flying unimpeded

through the deep music.

(Fish pity the cities).


4 comments:

nene said...

All I can say is, 'Wow'! Keith Flynn is soulfully inspirational.
I had not been familiar with him but am now. Thank you for this.

Jessie Carty said...

So great to see Keith honored here!

workerwrites said...

I love Keith's work -- all of it. Thanks for sharing this with us.

Anonymous said...

Check out the Rapid River magazine of Arts and Culture's May issue. I'm poetry editor there, and have included a review of his reading at Malaprops in April. You've got to hear him sing the blues!! His new book, Colony Collapse Disorder is a must read.
The Poet's Voice