Poetry NOW…and in the flesh

I like poetry, but I’m not familiar with as much contemporary work as I’d like to be. So I was glad to come across the event listing for Poetry NOW: 4th Annual Battle of the Bards, a competition featuring 20 Canadian poets.

The event was held at Harbourfront Centre last week. Each poet read for about five minutes, all hoping to win a spot at the 33rd annual International Festival of Authors and to have his or her book advertised in NOW magazine.

But it wasn’t just the exposure to some new writers that interested me. I was equally looking forward to hearing poetry out loud. Sometimes it’s nice to read poems in solitude, but other times it seems the words are meant to be listened to. And it’s certainly a treat to hear how the poet reads his or her own work.

I enjoyed the majority of the readings, but a few of the poets really made an impression on me: Linda Besner, Mark Callanan and Daniel Scott Tysdal. (Sandra Ridley ended up winning.) For your viewing (and listening) pleasure, here’s Tysdal reading “An Experiment in Form,” which is the same poem he read that night.

Philip Larkin and World Poetry Day

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Philip Larkin is one of my all-time favourite poets. So I’m often reading his poems, or quoting him to other people, or trying to find out more about him. But earlier this week—on March 21, to be exact—I had Larkin on my mind more than usual.

One reason is because of World Poetry Day. I didn’t know it until this year, but March 21 was proclaimed World Poetry Day in 1999. After learning this, I thought about some of the poets I admire the most.

The Philip Larkin section from my bookshelf.

I reread a few of my favourite Larkin poems and reminisced about being in university and first encountering his work. I remember the first poem of his I ever read: “Reasons for Attendance.” It was in an introductory poetry class that all English majors had to take.

I went on to enrol in many other poetry classes throughout university. When school ended, my appreciation for Larkin remained. He’s such a skilled formal poet, and…well, his poetry is just so very English (which is a great thing, if you’re an Anglophile like I am).

But Larkin wasn’t only a poet. He was also a novelist, jazz critic and a librarian. I just recently learned that March 21 is not only World Poetry Day, but it’s also the anniversary of Larkin’s first day as a librarian at the University of Hull (he began there in 1955). So from now I’ll probably (quietly) celebrate March 21 as Philip Larkin Day.

People have different tastes. I know poetry isn’t for everyone, and I understand that even those who do enjoy it won’t necessarily be Larkin fans. But for those of you who aren’t familiar with him or his work, I wanted to introduce you to him. Maybe you’ll fall in love the same way I did, or (even better) in a way that is all your own.

Larkin reads “Going, Going”

Larkin reads “Aubade”

Good old-fashioned letter-writing

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I’m going to write a letter—a real letter. You know, the kind you write with actual paper and a pen. I haven’t written one of these in quite some time. Sure, I’ll often jot down short notes in birthday cards, or I’ll type out emails. But I can’t remember the last time I filled multiple pages of paper using a pen, then sent it off for someone else to read. I even bought some new stationery for this occasion.

My new stationery and trusty pen, waiting patiently for me.

If you’re wondering who the lucky recipient is (and I know you’re on the edge of your seat), I’m writing to my grandmother. The truth is, I probably wouldn’t write this letter if she had ever learned how to use email. But, despite my attempts to convince her to try it, it’s become clear that’s not going to happen. And because I’m not too crazy about telephone conversations, I decided mailing a note would be a good way to stay in touch between family gatherings.

I know I’m not the only who’s been thinking about letter-writing. Earlier this week, I heard people will gather this Sunday at Toronto’s First Post Office to write letters. This reminded me of something I read in the Toronto Star about the Post a Letter Social Activity Club. The club consists of a group of people who meet regularly to write letters and notes.

The fascination doesn’t seem to stop with writing letters, or even with receiving them. We also like to read ones addressed to people other than ourselves. Entire books of letters have been published. On Valentine’s Day, I read about the letters of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning going online. Instead of just reading transcriptions, the handwritten words can be viewed as Barrett or Browning would have seen them.

Maybe this interest in letter-writing is simply a matter of nostalgia. Or perhaps it shows that some forms of communication are forever relevant. In any case, I’m going to write this letter. I’m not sure yet what it will say, but I don’t think I’ll have a problem filling at least a few pages. This is why writing to your grandmother is a good choice—she’ll care to read every last word, no matter how much of it is drivel. I just hope she isn’t too critical of my penmanship.

Year In, Year Out

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The Little Book of Clichés by Alison Westwood

My brother got me this neat book of clichés for Christmas. As I flipped through it the other day, I thought about some more clichés. And then I was inspired to write a poem about the New Year. 

Year In, Year Out

2011 has almost come to a close,
And I say good riddance!
The year was satisfactory, but nothing to write home about.
There’s no use crying over spilt milk;
Out with the old and in with the new.

Put your best foot forward in 2012,
And don’t sweat the little things.
Most people aren’t happy unless they are complaining,
But I say, If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
And always look on the bright side.

What will the new year bring? I’m champing at the bit.
But I suppose I’ll have to play it by ear.
Even though a picture is worth a thousand words, and actions speak louder than words, I’d still like to become a better writer.
You heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.

I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I hope I haven’t bit off more than I can chew—I don’t want to eat humble pie later on. (That’s really not my cup of tea.)
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but perhaps he can get better at the old ones.
I’ve got my fingers crossed.

The best gifts are found in the bookstore

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Whenever I want to buy a present for someone, I often end up getting a book. It’s kind of my go-to gift. Books are great for everyone, not just “readers” or lovers of literature.

For people who say they don’t like to read, there are lots of books that are light on text and heavy on images. Actually, it doesn’t matter if the recipient can read at all. Babies and toddlers like books because they’re attracted to the colours and shapes.

As Christmas approaches, the bookstore is the only store I can stand to be in for very long. There’s no need to worry about buying the wrong size; there’s no rummaging through shelves or bins hoping to stumble upon something appropriate.

It’s possible to walk into a bookstore without a specific title in mind and manage to leave with a personalized gift. It doesn’t matter if it’s for someone you’re not very close to (books also make great hostess presents); you just have to think about what you know about the person. If they recently took a trip to Paris, get a book of photographs of the city. For the sports fan, there are several biographies of athletes available. Even if the person has already read the book, the thought put into the gift will be clear.

Years ago, my boss at the time gave me Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club for Christmas. I had already read the book and owned a copy, but the gift meant a lot to me. My boss knew I enjoyed reading novels, he knew I loved the on-screen adaptation and he’s also a film buff. So there was a personal connection.

It was personalized even more because he included an inscription. Unlike cards, which are often tossed aside or lost, the words written inside the book itself will always be there. They remind the recipient of the gift-giver and of the sentiment.

And if you’d rather not put much thought into the gift, books are still a good choice. They can entertain us, educate us, make us see the world in ways we never did before. Not to mention, they provide nice décor for the home.

I’m sure some of my family members will read this, but I’m not spoiling any surprises. They already know they’ll get a book from me this Christmas; it’s kind of an unspoken tradition. Now I just have to come up with something meaningful to write inside.