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Tagged "Poetry Friday"

Poetry Friday: "Winter" by Charmaine Cadeau

What You Used to Wear, Charmaine CadeauDid you know there was an Olympics going on right now? A winter Olympics? We know, we were surprised too! Where was the warning? Why did no one tell us? 

Anyhootles, for Poetry Friday, we thought we'd get somewhat in the spirit of the snowy sporting events going on right now in South Korea with an on-topic poem. However, the closest we could come was "not very close."

That said, please enjoy Charmaine Cadeau's haunting "Winter" from her 2004 collection What You Used to Wear.

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Poetry Friday: "Speed Dating" by Alyda Faber

This was the week of Valentine's Day, 2018. Poetry Friday obviously missed the date, but that doesn't mean Poetry Friday can't think about relationships anymore. In fact, that's all Poetry Friday ever thinks about.

Accordingly, here is Alyda Faber's "Speed Dating", from her 2016 collection Dust or Fire.

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Poetry Friday: "How to Trim Squid" by Craig Poile

For no discernible reason, this week's Poetry Friday concerns cephalopods and cooking.

Just the mood we're in this week.

Without further ado, from the collection True Concessions — winner of the 2010 Archibald Lampman Award for Poetry — here is Craig Poile's weirdly wonderful poem, "How to Trim Squid."

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Poetry Friday: "West End, Halifax" by Brian Bartlett

The Watchmaker's Table, Brian Bartlett We love to travel, but sometimes we can't get away as far as we like. So, for today's Poetry Friday, we'll take a quick haiku-heavy jaunt via Brian Bartlett to "West End, Halifax" (from his collection The Watchmaker's Table).

Reached via social media, Brian had this to say about the work behind his poem:

This haiku montage is one of three in The Watchmaker's Table. Stitching haiku together to create long poems (which I've compared to collages or mosaics) became so much a part of my writing a dozen or so years ago that I went on to publish a whole book of seven more montages, Potato Blossom Road (Ekstasis Editions, 2013). That book also includes an essay, "Haikuing," which details my reflections on this popular but often misunderstood, misrepresented mode of writing—which I've also experienced as a way of thinking, seeing and hearing.

West End, Halifax

In this moist corner 
    of a used-book store
a lone mushroom sprouts

                                                                        Two giant zucchini
                                                                            by a grinning girl’s ears –
                                                                        green parenthesis

He holds high his rolled-up
    Yoga mat, fending off
a crow diving close

                                                                        The blackout lasts
                                                                            one second – the neighbourhood 
                                                                        blinks – glimpse of Zilch

Where Dublin St. meets
    London St., a soaked atlas
falls apart in grass

                                                                        Behemoth tree-trimmer spits
                                                                             limbs into its gut –
                                                                        noisiest eater around

Garbage night, one hopeful
     sound in the dark – 
bottle-scavengers’ bag clink

                                                                        From under ice
                                                                             in a mid-winter thaw
                                                                        a worm crawls, earth’s colour

A sort of grace –
     a falling icicle strikes
his foot, not his eye

                                                                            a locked bicycle’s shrunken
                                                                          to its red reflector

A maple wingseed
     stays stuck to a skate blade
crisscrossing a rink

                                                                        Two bootprints frozen
                                                                             in sidewalk ice, one pointing
                                                                        down the street, one up

Through twelve months
     a scarecrow on a porch gives
each season the same scowl

                                                                      Oh for X-rays to show
                                                                            all the trees roots holding
                                                                        these streets together

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Poetry Friday: "Novecento, Maurizio Cattelan, 1997. Horse in taxidermy with sling" by Aurian Haller

Last week, we Poetry Friday'd ourselves into the Internet proper with a poem tangentially involving cats. We thought that this Friday we'd stick with the animal theme (again, at least tangentially) and look to a horse poem to read and discuss.

Specifically, a dead horse poem.

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