Larry Smith's Blog: Larry Smith, Author-Editor-Reviewer
August 19, 2023
SALUTE TO TIMOTHY RUSSELLIN HIS OHIO VALLEYSept. 9th 6 ...
Published on August 19, 2023 07:35
January 29, 2022
There can be no reverence for the timeless without tend...
There can be no reverence for the timeless without tenderness for each moment beading the rosary of our mortal lives, and there is no place where we contact this more clearly than in our encounters with nature, be it in the majesty of a solar eclipse or in the miniature of a flowerpot. “The gardener digs in another time, without past or future, beginning or end,” the filmmaker and activist Derek Jarman wrote shortly after his HIV diagnosis and his father’s death as he began growing through grief amid the beauty of flowers.
Published on January 29, 2022 09:17
September 22, 2019
Spirit Poems
Spirit PoemsHere you will find poems with a spiritual base--with or without religion.My own and those voices of others that center and open us.
***************************
First Series
Along the Road
1.Looking out over Lake Waters
we witness wavesrising and folding again and againyet know it is windthat moves the waters.
Golden leaves stripped by windfall across the road,revealing those hidden armswhich hold them.
Wild geese over treeswing North, then South,linking unseen websof memory..Our acts of caring for othersreveal God’s unseen loveinside us.
2.There by the Road
flesh and bonesdry in the sun,melt into earthagain and again.We know this so wellbreath in the lungs.
Clouds passing,sun and moon.We do not look away—our hearts open,the bones sing.
3.
In Soft Darkness Just Before Dawn
while night holds us still,we stumble around what’s near,yet look out past curtain lace at stars shining bright and clear.In faith near blind we wake to who and what we are.
***************************
First Series
Along the Road
1.Looking out over Lake Waters
we witness wavesrising and folding again and againyet know it is windthat moves the waters.
Golden leaves stripped by windfall across the road,revealing those hidden armswhich hold them.
Wild geese over treeswing North, then South,linking unseen websof memory..Our acts of caring for othersreveal God’s unseen loveinside us.
2.There by the Road
flesh and bonesdry in the sun,melt into earthagain and again.We know this so wellbreath in the lungs.
Clouds passing,sun and moon.We do not look away—our hearts open,the bones sing.
3.
In Soft Darkness Just Before Dawn
while night holds us still,we stumble around what’s near,yet look out past curtain lace at stars shining bright and clear.In faith near blind we wake to who and what we are.
Published on September 22, 2019 10:35
September 5, 2017
Craig Paulenich's Old Brown: Poems released
Old Brown: Poems by Craig Paulenich
Old BrownHere is a fine book that dares to look into the heart of the personage of American abolitionist John Brown. Using all of the tools he can imagine Craig Paulenich plunges into the heart of the man and of America. "Powerful and unwavering, Paulenich digs deep into nineteenth century history, using Captain John Brown as a touchstone to illuminate America’s uneasy relationship with race and its obsession with violence. Part poetry, part history, Paulenich’s portrait is an indictment of our contemporary times, his John Brown both prophet and terrorist, hero and cold-blooded killer, an everyman for our schizophrenic America. In stunningly imaginative poems that range from catalogs of the dead to lyric meditations on religion’s role in our complicity, Paulenich masterfully connects the dots from Harper’s Ferry to our modern terrorist state, pointing out along the way that 'Slavery is the American Leviathan, and we, / Jonah’s all, rattle about inside its brass ribs.'" ~Peter Grandbois
http://smithdocs.net
Published on September 05, 2017 07:46
Kevin Casey's Poem up on American Life in Poetry Page
American Life in Poetry poem by Kevin Casey Driving West through Somerset County
The sun climbed the rigging of a mackerel sky,with me and my daughter following west,
and then the sudden, thick lashed, chestnut eye
of that poor deer, flashed as we collided.
Busted bumper, her bounding toward the pines—
clean-limbed, light, and sapling-sound, she vanished.
Stopping on the shoulder, I dreaded what damage
my own poor dear and her thick-lashed, chestnut eyes
had suffered, struck by their shared innocence
and that awful force; but her beaming face,
sunflower-broad, was filled by this thrill,
with her eager as the deer that the day
might move along, and the sun—without
looking down—should keep to its climbing.
Published on September 05, 2017 07:46
September 3, 2017
Books from 2007
Yikes, so much has happened in 2017...We reached our 200th book published. Here's what's new:Check them out at http://smithdocs.net
Published on September 03, 2017 12:53
May 22, 2016
A Flutter of Birds Passing Through Heaven: A Tribut...
A Flutter of Birds Passing Through Heaven: A Tribute to Robert Sund by Robert Sund (Author), Allen Frost (Editor), Paul Piper (Editor), Fred Sodt (Editor-designer)240 pages $20
The poet and artist Robert Sund is a Pacific Northwest legend. This book is an inspired biography comprised of stories, memories, poetry, photography and artwork by those who knew him. The book is also filled with previously unpublished and uncollected works by Sund. A tribute to a life committed to poetry, calligraphy, art and friendship with writers such as William Carlos Williams, Kenneth Rexroth, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, and a host of Pacific Northwest poets and artists.
What editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-...
What editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-... editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-... editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-...
Published on May 22, 2016 01:51
A Flutter of Birds Passing Through Heaven: A T...
A Flutter of Birds Passing Through Heaven: A Tribute to Robert Sund by Robert Sund (Author), Allen Frost (Editor), Paul Piper (Editor), Fred Sodt (Editor-designer)240 pages $20
The poet and artist Robert Sund is a Pacific Northwest legend. This book is an inspired biography comprised of stories, memories, poetry, photography and artwork by those who knew him. The book is also filled with previously unpublished and uncollected works by Sund. A tribute to a life committed to poetry, calligraphy, art and friendship with writers such as William Carlos Williams, Kenneth Rexroth, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, and a host of Pacific Northwest poets and artists.
What editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-...
What editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-... editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-... editors Allen Frost and Paul Piper have done is assemble a rich collection of Sund’s own writing and honest recollections and tributes to the man and his work. These include some of the best writers from that era or area: Kenneth Rexroth, William Carlos Williams, Gary Snyder, Robert Bly, as well as his more intimate friends and fellow artists: Charlie Craft, Tim McNulty, Arjuna (Diane) Barton, Joseph Stroud, Frances McCue, and about 40 more.
The book is beautifully laid out and lush with graphic images of the poet and friends, but also with copies of some of the correspondence and posters of events. Sund lived extremely humbly in a fisherman’s shack, often off of the good will of friends. Each element fills in a story that the reader constructs without a narrator’s bias.
- See more at: http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-...
Published on May 22, 2016 01:51
May 17, 2016
Confessions of a Class Poet...I'm addicted
Confessions of a Class Poet -Larry Smith(from Faces and Voices: Tales)
Okay. What? My turn?Stand up? Okay. Here goes.Hello. My name is Edgar Allen. And, uh … I’m a class poet.I started the stuff back in junior high, scribbling into my notebook at nights alone in my room. I’d hide it in my underwear drawer back then. I’d lie to my parents, say I was doing math homework or writing a report, but I can admit it now—it was always poems, one after another—getting high on them alone in my room and hiding it in a drawer when I was through.
Then one night my freshman year of high school I was out with friends and we ended up at a coffeehouse…they were doing an Open-Mic poetry reading and at the their coaching, I got up and read my first poem out in public. I had been carrying it in my coat pocket for weeks. They egged me on, and the crowd ate it up. I was hooked—I was…a class poet—I can say it now—writing poems for friends, the school newspaper, and then the school’s literary magazine A Pocket Full of Dreams.Others heard about me and before long I was writing poems for them for their girlfriends, eventually writing the class poem, the class song. I was in above my head and couldn’t stop myself—I was addicted.
For a time in college, I gave it all up, became a math major, studied science, developed my left brain. But then I had too much time to myself, sat through long hours of boring lectures, a pen in my hand, paper there before me, and soon I was at it again—writing poems, going to poetry readings, reading single poems, then books by a single poet, finally I was doing whole anthologies. I had it bad. I began writing for the literary magazine A Cup of Poems.
For a long time I hid it from my folks, but then the English Department sent an issue of A Cup home to my parents. Soon I got the call. I couldn’t explain, told them I didn’t want to hurt anyone. The next weekend they did an intervention on me. My sister cried and begged me to continue my math major, said she knew a kid who was an English major and couldn’t get a job, was out on the streets and ended up awful—teaching sophomore English in a local high school. “Did I really want that? Did I know what it would do to our family?” Mom said, “We love you anyway, but please try to stop!” For the first time I saw my dad cry. I told them I loved them but I could handle the stuff, I was twenty-one, an adult, for god’s sake.
They’d gotten nowhere, and soon I was writing poems to a girl I found working in the library—she became my friend, and then my love. Turns out she was doing the stuff too—and our poems crossed at the circulation desk.We started an Open-Mic at the Coffee-Cup, and took over editing the lit magazine. We were two kids hooked and hooking others to writing poems. I’m not proud of any of this.We were spreading the word to all we met. Soon I was majoring in English and looking at a lifetime of words.
And then, well, Emily met Jack here and she started coming to your meetings—and so talked me into coming here tonight. I can tell you that I’ve already gotten rid of my notebook and pens. Betsy checks my word processor for anything that has meter or even slightly rhymes. I’ve been clean for five days now—no verses, no stanzas, no lyric or narrative, no metaphors or puns, not even a prose poem. I know I’ll always be a poet, and I can’t promise that you all won’t end up in a poem tomorrow, but I’m trying, with Emily’s help, I’m taking it a day at a time.
Thanks to you all. It’s good to come clean, even if I had to do it with words.
Published on May 17, 2016 05:13
May 6, 2016
Voices from the Appalachian Coalfields: Interview PoemsMi...
Voices from the Appalachian Coalfields: Interview PoemsMike and Ruth YarrowPhotographs by Douglas Yarrow"As I write this, the death knell of Appalachian coal is being sounded. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon, coal mining will only support a few people in the region. Mike and Ruth Yarrow have performed a great service. In Voices From the Appalachian Coalfields they have preserved the voices of the men and women who performed the dangerous work of mining in order to power the nation through the 20th century. Coal miners have received little thanks for their sacrifice. Perhaps these voices will remind us that the remaining miners deserve support as they face an uncertain future". ~Denise Giardina, author of Storming Heaven and The Unquiet Earth"This is an important contribution to Appalachian and Working Class studies. Grounded in the lives of Appalachian coal miners and their wives facing harsh economic times, these poems offer a vivid picture of their thoughts, emotions, fears, anger, struggles and courage. Hear their voices. Learn from them. Be inspired by them." ~Steve Fisher, co-editor of Transforming Places: Lessons from Appalachia Judges' Comments: “It is important work here, and well done. The photographs enhance the book greatly, and great care seems to have been taken with the interviews, documentation, and writing so that the past is preserved intact. “
“These poems, ‘found’ in oral histories of coal mining families, beautifully convey life in the mines and on picket lines, showing the eloquence of the speech of working people. These pieces present the poetry of everyday life and present all the pain, resilience, bravery, humanity and aspiration of poetry crafted by poets. This book is a real and lasting contribution to working-class literature.”152 pgs. $17...Free Shipping
Published on May 06, 2016 17:42


