Category Archives: poem

Metes and Bounds (Accents Publishing, 2010)

Poet J. Kates answers a few questions about Metes and Bounds (Accents Publishing, 2010)

 

 

Tell us the story of your Accents Publishing book.

Not sure there is a story to tell. I had written some poems, they seemed to fit together in theme, there was a chapbook contest from Accents Publishing, and I submitted to it. You liked it, apparently.

 

Do you still like it? Why or why not?

The poems I write that stand the editorial test of time long enough to make it to publication are poems I like. The rest, I throw away.

 

What is the highest praise you’ve received for it?

Not sure I’ve received any “praise” for Metes and Bounds. You published it, some people have bought it. That’s praise. Can’t recall if it was ever reviewed.

 

What didn’t make it in the book?

Most of the poems I’ve written in my life. Luckily, a good many have made it into other books, with, I hope, more still to come.

 

Is there a poem from the book you’d like to share with the readers of the Accents blog?

I’d like to have your readers read them all. That’s why I wrote them. If it’s your blog, you choose.

 

Selected by Katerina and inserted in the text:

DOING THE WORMS’ WORK

The first April I am certain I will die,
the ground too cold, too wet for planting,
the river only a foot down from flood,
the compost heap a contradance of bees,
I need to be looking toward a harvest.

I will turn dirt. Without stooping
to pick rocks, I do the worms’ work
for an hour or two, see how I like it,
see how I enjoy the company of worms.
Not bad, they say, not bad for a beginner .

 

How did you arrive at the title?

Ah, there’s an interesting question. In New England, where I live, it has long been customary to establish boundaries not by formal surveying, but by noting and describing landmarks (or by creating them, as with walls and cairns). All the poems in this little collection somehow have to do with limits and limitations, and there is a rural cast to them; it seemed an appropriate title. I have worried, since, however, that the title sounds a little too bucolic, characterizing my work (unfairly, I hope) as “when the Frost is on the bumpkin.” Perhaps that’s balanced by the cosmopolitanism of an earlier chapbook (Mappemonde, Oyster River Press) and by other published poems.

 

Do you have a favorite Accents Publishing book (other than yours) and if so, which one?

Partial to anthologies and to translation as I am, you can guess I’d single out The Season of Delicate Hunger, for its introduction and presentation of contemporary Bulgarian poets.

 

What would you like to see Accents do going forward?

Succeed. On your own terms.

 

What are you working on now?

I have two full-length manuscripts being widely rejected. I continue to write — including some experimental, urban prose poems — and to translate.

 

Share a poem, or at least a sentence from your new writing.

“The human in me knows how to retreat.”

ACCENTS POETRY CRAFT SERIES

ACCENTS POETRY CRAFT SERIES

We’re very happy to start offering live online craft sessions. We intend for these to deliver brief but powerful bursts of energy and inspiration on interesting topics. The sessions are accessible to anyone with a device such as a computer or smartphone and an internet connection.

The sessions are taught by Katerina Stoykova, owner and senior editor of Accents Publishing.

Every Monday 6:00-7:15pm
Sign up a-la-carte for $25.00 a session, or all 5 for $20 each.

Topics:
11/11 Developing a brilliant voice
11/18 Writing very short poems
11/25 Quotes, conversations and scenes in poetry
12/2 Arranging and titling a poetry manuscript
12/9 Submitting your work — pitfalls and strategies

Write to accents.publishing@gmail.com to reserve your spot.

Depending on interest/requests, local people may meet face-to-face.

“Ars Poetica” by Patty Paine

The dark beyond the window is
not the same as the dark inside

a piano, a dark you can’t know,
just as your body, sitting there

beside the piano, is an enclosure
with its own unknowable dark.

This is metaphor
for nothing. Just as a bird is not

a conceit, no matter how hard we want
to feel wings open

across our backs, taste flight
on our tongues. Even in death

a bird is not a blade that cuts
to the quick of our loss, it’s just

a splayed thing, something to be
stepped around, for decomposition to have

its efficient way, I don’t mean
to be cynical, but there are days

when language is heavy
furniture you push around

a house made of nothing
but hallways. I’m not feeling

sorry for myself, if that’s what
you’re thinking. I just want

you to be careful, because
sometimes a poem can lie.

It can make you think darkness
is a curtain that can be swept

back to reveal a sky gilded in light,
where wing beats fall

into a rhythm of hope, hope, hope.

-Patty Paine,
The Sounding Machine, 2012 © Accents Publishing

Patty PainePatty Paine is the author of Feral (Imaginary Friend Press), Elegy & Collapse (Finishing Line Press), and co-editor of Gathering the Tide: An Anthology of Contemporary Arabian Gulf Poetry (Garnet Publishing & Ithaca Press). Her poems, reviews, and interviews have appeared in Blackbird: an online journal of literature and the arts, The Atlanta Review, Gulf Stream, The Journal and many other publications. She is the founding editor of Diode Poetry Journal, and is an assistant professor of English at Virginia Commonwealth University Qatar where she teaches writing and literature, and is assistant director of Liberal Arts & Sciences.