William Carlos Williams Poetry Symposium Oct. 2 & Oct. 3

September 24, 2009

WCW Poetry Symposium celebrates the 125th anniversary of William Carlos Williams’s equally renowned brother, the eminent architect and artist Edgar Williams (1884-1974), on Friday, October 2 – Saturday, October 3, 2009.  For more information, see the WCW Poetry Symposium website:

rutherfordlibrary.typepad.com/williamcarloswilliams/

Flyer_09

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The WCW Poetry Cooperative, September 9

September 6, 2009

The WCW Poetry Cooperative of Southern Bergen County is pleased to invite as our next feature the Rutherford Red Wheelbarrow Poets, on Wednesday, September 9, 2009 at 7:00 p. m.  This monthly program will also feature the words of William Carlos Williams and time-permitting open readings from the floor.  No advanced registration is required and all poets and poetry lovers are invited.  Note that we are now holding the WCW Poetry Cooperative readings on the Terrace of the Williams Center for the Arts (www.williamscenter.org) located at 1 Williams Plaza in Rutherford, N. J.  Download a program flyer here:

www.rutherfordlibrary.org/sept09poetry.pdf


Stevens vs. Williams Ideas that split poetry?

July 26, 2009

So-And-So Reclining on Her Couch

By Wallace Stevens

On her side, reclining on her elbow.
This mechanism, this apparition,
Suppose we call it Projection A.

She floats in air at the level of
The eye, completely anonymous,
Born, as she was, at twenty-one,

Without lineage or language, only
The curving of her hip, as motionless gesture,
Eyes dripping blue, so much to learn.

If just abover her head there hung,
Suspended in air, the slightest crown
Of Gothic prong and practick bright,

The suspension, as in solid space,
The suspending hand withdrawn, would be
An invisible gesture. Let this be called

Projection B. To get at the thing
Without gestures is to get at it as
Idea. She floats in the contention, the flux

Between the thing as idea and
The idea as thing. She is half who made her.
This is the final Projection C.

The arrangement contains the desire of
The artist. But one confides in what has no
Concealed creator. One walks easily

The unpainted shore, accepts the world
As anything but sculpture. Good-bye
Mrs. Pappadopoulos, and thanks.

[EDITOR STEPS IN, “DING! DING! ROUND TWO] (Williams gets ready pounce)

A Sort of a Song

By William Carlos Williams

Let the snake wait under
his weed
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait,
sleepless.
– through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Saxifrage is my flower that splits
the rocks.