What Happened To Poetry In

The Writing Of A Poem Is Like A Child Throwing Stones Into A Mineshaft. You Compose First, Then You Listen For The Reverberation.

Some Of My Educated Filipino Friends Were Aspiring Poets, But Their Aspirations Were All In The Direction Of The United States. They Had No Desire To Learn From The Bardic Tradition That Continued In The Barrios. Their Ideal Would Have Been To Write Something That Would Get Them To Iowa, Where They Would Study Creative Writing.

Those Who Actually Set Out To See The Fall Of A City Or Those Who Choose To Go To A Front Line, Are Obviously Asking Themselves To What Extent They Are Cowards. But The Tests They Set Themselves - There Is A Dead Body, Can You Bear To Look At It? - Are Nothing In Comparison With The Tests That Are Sprung On Them. It Is Not The Obvious Tests That Matter (do You Go To Pieces In A Mortar Attack?) But The Unexpected Ones (here Is A Man On The Run, Seeking Your Help - Can You Face Him Honestly?).

Free Verse Seemed Democratic Because It Offered Freedom Of Access To Writers. And Those Who Disdained Free Verse Would Always Be Open To Accusations Of Elitism, Mandarinism. Open Form Was Like Common Ground On Which All Might Graze Their Cattle - It Was Not To Be Closed In By Usurping Landlords.

The Mormon Mission To Africa, As To Other Dark-skinned Parts Of The World, Was For A Long Time Hobbled By The Racism Of The Movement's Scripture.