Posts Tagged "No Need of Sympathy"

My Wobbly Bicycle, 50

Posted by on Nov 19, 2013 in Archive | 18 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 50

I could change the name of my blog to Doctors, Ad Seriatim. I’m posting this early because today we’re heading downstate, to Ann Arbor, having a pre-op consultation for Jerry’s very-big-deal back surgery on Dec. 3. He’ll be in the hospital for about a week, rehab after that. About six months’ recovery time. Another winter of hunkering down and getting better. How will this be for us, after last winter? A friend wrote to say how glad she was to see that I feel like relegating cancer to a much lesser position in my posts. The last two, it’s hardly been there. True. I think...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 48

Posted by on Nov 6, 2013 in Archive | 28 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 48

Years ago, when my former husband had just been hired at the University of Delaware, the then-Department Chair offered to fly me from Arkansas to Delaware to look for a house for our family. (Can you imagine that now?) The night I arrived, there was a guest poet reading. I was invited. The poet was the late, great, silver-haired Seamus Heaney. I’d read a few of his poems, but basically I didn’t know squat.  At the reception—which was quite intimate, at someone’s house—we were brushing shoulders, picking up cheese and crackers. I could have said anything, asked him anything. But I...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 47

Posted by on Oct 30, 2013 in Archive | 1 comment

My Wobbly Bicycle, 47

Some people have told me that the poems in my new book, No Need of Sympathy, feel like premonitions. Did something in me know, when  I wrote those poems, that I was in danger already? But consider how much poetry is about love and death. Okay, I’m not dead. But the very word cancer sounds the echo of mortality. All thoughts, all images, if you stay with them long enough, hit bedrock. Love and death. We’re drawn to bedrock. We almost can’t help ourselves from slowing down or stopping at a car crash, even when we can be of no use there. We’re looking for something we probably...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 45

Posted by on Oct 16, 2013 in Archive | 10 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 45

The hair thing.  I can pinch my “bangs” between thumb and forefinger. At the back, hair’s about twice as long. I try a hairbrush and see a slight difference. Not much, but it’s coming along. It feels like healing. That’s the wonderful thing about hair. The more of it, the better I am. From the front, it’s cute, but from the sides and back—of course I stand with a mirror and study it—it’s still plastered to my head in a way that isn’t flattering. [None of MY hair in these photos. They’re all from the book launch. I wanted you to see them.] Upside: my hair may grow...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 43

Posted by on Oct 2, 2013 in Archive | 10 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 43

BOA Editions asked me to write a short interview with myself about No Need of Sympathy, to use as they considered book design and marketing. I invited myself to my study, where we talked over a cup of tea.  We both are drinking green tea these days, for the antidioxants. Fleda: Thank you so much for consenting to this interview. I’d like to begin with the title of your new book.  You took your title from a Robert Creeley quotation, “Poetry stands in no need of sympathy, or even goodwill. One acts from bottom, the root is the purpose quite beyond any kindness.” Besides the...

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