Later in the trip, I was approached by an emissary from the American embassy, who informed me that I should stick to my poetry. William H. Gass and Lorin Cuoco. Carbondale: Southern Illinois UP, Kenneth Lincoln Her cursed prose poem, "The Colonel," stalks readers with dead, severed ears. Almost a poeme trouve, I had only to pare down the memory and render it whole, unlined and as precise as recollection would have it" APR Such an unspeakable moment, selected from personal history, is a witnessing check poem.
It is suspiciously close, byway of the ear, to "colonial," which derives otherwise from the Latin for "farmer. Suburban order is the flag of the generic Colonel's family: "his wife" clearing the table, "his son" going out for the night, "his daughter" filing her nails. The "pet dogs" complete this domestic coven, all-in-the-family conventional, proper and expected, but for the gun on the pillow. Beginning with full capitals, the first four words could pass for a legal brief or diplomatic report manque Forche was serving as cultural diplomat on a Guggenheim, The Country Between Us her report to the people.
This report is different. All this changes. The whispers of unspeakable rumor, the conspiratorial fears of oppression, the underground gossip of the streets leak through her reportorial column like small gusts of breath.
A factual, mid-level diction breaks with maximal stress the need to tell all, in plain style disbelief and passionately embedded inscription. Hers is an anti-art that is an art of timed witness and indirect revelation. In journalistic wraps of the daily news, justified between margins, the lines carry a tone of clinical horror, echoes of controlled terror: all in the name of decency and diplomatic taste, Pentecostal "rack of lamb, good wine," and hemispheric trade.
More colloquially, the Colonel's windows are grated "like those in liquor stores. A TV cop-show in English imports American greed and violence, the commercial in Spanish capitalizes the local margin.
What will happen? How will this piece work out? Metric line breaks are embedded in the syntax, curiously disguised not to look like poetry. The lines internally break into hymnal or ballad measure five, times in tetrameter, "His wife took everything away" , blank verse sixteen times in pentameter, "The moon swung bare on its black cord over the house" , and Homeric meter seven times in hexameter, '"There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol on the cushion beside him" , only three lines in strictly "free" verse, three to seven beats.
Sibilant hissing rhymes interlace the metric sentence endings "house, English, house, lace, stores, Spanish, terrace, this, faces, themselves, voice". Within the closing lines, the monosyllables "sack, ears, halves, hands, glass, rights, ears, last, ears, scrap, ears" and "pressed" siphon their vowels into a cluster of atrocities carried home as "groceries.
Her hidden rhymes and rhythms both words from Greek rhythmus, as mentioned, meaning "flow" conceal the art of conspiratorial witness, the designs of a hushed poetics. The off-poetic disguise is essential. How can she be an aesthete in witness of the horror? How can Forche appear to be ordering her lines, to be measuring her steps, to be decorating her images, in the face of the Colonel's controlled madness, his butchering orders?
This paterfamilias finds it difficult "to govern" these days, to order his household, to keep the margins justified, to muzzle the press, to silence the cries of the disappeared. The poet goes subversive. So the Colonel brings out his grocery sack of ears, as casually as any collector might produce his stamps or chloroformed butterflies. There is no other way to say this. Language cannot bear this violence. The word "ear" disappears uncannily in the word "disappear.
Poetry is hopeless. But I noticed that the person in the second book makes an utterance. The title figure, the Angel of History—a figure imagined by Walter Benjamin—can record the miseries of humanity yet is unable either to prevent these miseries from happening or from suffering from the pain associated with them.
She has won numerous grants and awards, including fellowships from the Lannan Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Academy of American Poets. I think that he has passed through many hard life choices and that he saw and did a lot of violence against other people.
In order to get and what is more important to keep the authority the colonel has shed a lot of innocent blood. He is enjoying the power now. But the price, that he had to pay for this is his own mind. The example of the colonel shows that almost anything that has been done by us during our lives reflects somehow in our head. In fact our life experience is the designer that forms our persuasion, which predetermines in some way our decisions in particular situations.
All this changes. Sharon Doubiago "The Colonel," the most oft-quoted and reprinted poem of the book is, interestingly, set in prose and the witness breaks down midpoint when the Colonel spills a sack of human ears onto the dinner table: "There is no other way to say this. There was a fierce denial and yet several years later a reporter for The Washington Post interviewed soldiers in El Salvador and they apparently talked about the practice of taking ears and all of that.
He spills them unto the table and then lifts one, shaking it in front of his guests before placing it in a glass of water. The whispers of unspeakable rumor, the conspiratorial fears of oppression, the underground gossip of the streets leak through her reportorial column like small gusts of breath. How will this piece work out? Therefore, a specific poem is still a poem even though it is written in prose without the traditional stanzas. Moyers : Had I reported that incident as a journalist, I would have been quite literal: who, what, when, where, and why.
Columbia: University of Missouri Press, He brushes the ears unto the floor, holding his glass of wine. The lines are broken in margin breaks and stanzas are represented by paragraphs.
The papers of the day lay there, his pet dogs attended and there was a pistol resting on a cushion just beside the Colonel. Courtesy of Blue Flower Arts. As being said earlier, prose poem offers the writer an interesting blend of poetry and prose. In order to get and what is more important to keep the authority the colonel has shed a lot of innocent blood. Berkeley: University of California Press, Instead of delivering us a conclusion, it renders the process of analysis itself.
Metric line breaks are embedded in the syntax, curiously disguised not to look like poetry. But officers said they frown on the practice.
This news comes from the bottom of the text, the prone axis that intercepts the Colonel's upright column and justified margins. What circumstances affected on him?
Ancapagari has finally returned to the mountains it left from. He brushes the ears unto the floor, holding his glass of wine. A hotel shares a name with the ruined city, and the staff there are friendly and will do anything for you.
As far as I understand, he is a military dictator and de facto is fighting against his own people. If you whispered Ancapagari, you were alight.
That "The Colonel" has such shape can be demonstrated by quoting its last two sentences, which provide perfect closure to a text in which each word is placed with artful precision: "Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice.