Mamet
gave me the clean hard line
punching an IBM Selectric
from a small Vermont cabin
Dickinson
showed me stone cold brevity
ignoring self-promotion and the market
thirty years alone in that upstairs room
Hemingway
brought his shotgun to the feast
keeping it simple quick and painless
never missing a drink or a day
Van Gogh
tore his left ear and whole heart
spilling his own blood onto his hands
smearing it across the wretched world
Shakespeare
was boldly in it to eat and prosper
filling the theatres every night
booking land deals every day
Cash
crashed himself into endless dumpsters
moaning from the stink to the Almighty
who continued feeding him the songs
Bukowski
freed me from the holiness act
wheeling in the honesty the humor the beer
and the eternal weight of a single line
Hammett
showed me how to work with style
cutting the flowers down to the dirt
an old school pennies-per-word stoic
These are a few
of my professors
at the finest University
in the world
Their lectures have made me
At times saved me
I’ll be paying off tuition
until 2039
Unless Rimbaud
helps me skip the country
And Beckett takes some time off
to show me the ropes of Paris
on the lam
_____________________________________
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{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
good one.
Robert,
So true! I couldn’t write it so well, but if I could I’d include all yours and a dozen more… no matter how much schooling I’ve had, it’s absorbing lessons from real folks who’ve done bits of what I want to do, that’s changed me the most.
Loved this one. Thanks.
Regards,
Kelly
My list would be different, but include many of the same. Although I received my BA (in English even) I have certainly gleaned even more in the world hereafter college. I think life experience gives you a greater appreciation for literature and poetry.
Thanks Robert. You continue to inspire me.
“Cutting the flowers down to dirt” is something we could all stand a little more of–but it would require us to admit that the dirt itself is beautiful.
I certainly don’t devalue my education, but even with great professors and doctors of English, many of them press their own opinions, beliefs, agendas even….leaving one with a stamped-out version of what you should “get” from the book. Not to say there’s not discussion, but some certainly believe there’s but one way to read a book. All that said though, the classroom experience was great.
BUT… I feel there are gaping holes in MY learning. One can only get so much with a BA, especially in a pick and choose your own education type of university. I wish I were a bit more “well-rounded” in what I read in college.
It’s never too late to go sit in on some classes ya know. Audit a course. You might like it.
For now, I’m content to envelope myself in even lesser-known poets and speakers of greatness. To evaluate their every word. Every poem that hits my inbox.
Press on. Things are well down here in little town. We’re “making it”…just one day at a time.
Nice, but I couldn’t see the text for some reason….I mean I couldn’t see it easily — had to highlight it to read it. The white seems very faint this time.
Keep on sitting in those lectures…they’re a lot more fun than the one’s you have to pay for.
Best,
Robert
Nice. So true and BA overrated but I do admit my “little Ivy” experience opened up a world I had never known growing up in a small Maine town. Freshman English and Norton’s Anthology and all that…
Excellent. It’s always refreshing to read your work.
For a couple of weeks, at least, your following is worldwide. I am in Kanuma, Tochigi, Japan (just got back from Tokyo).
I hope you’re well,
Zak
Bruce
called dim characters out of the inky blackness
revealing more about me than I asked for
addicting me to subtle thunderclaps
Since I’m a terrible poet, I’ll explain what I meant by “subtle thunderclaps.” Whereas most (yourself included) might never consider your writing “subtle,” it’s a damned surprise every time I find myself agreeing (”yup, uh-huh”) with what you’ve written, *THEN* realizing that you blew *MY* sick heart out of my back like a 12-gauge to the chest. There is Another who wrote that way… I’m sure his lectures are prerequisites.
you make me cry. you brought these people into my room just now, in my mind, alive again. How I love them. Some writer saved my life.
you don’t need a BA. you are a BA (born artist). you paint truth.
you are the source now Bruce.
this is where you need to go, fast, white hot, and brilliant. push it further, there are more steps, just break on through…
dang. you give good poem. more please.
Great one this is. You sound a bit like Rumi…
Truth.
Compared to your list, those who have influenced/shaped/saved this soul are pikers. Like comparing a sonnet to a limerick. Then again, there is wisdom and solace – of sorts – in the words of Grizzard, Lovett and Buffett.