Comments on: dead poets.

By: Samiya Bashir

Samiya Bashir — Fri, 03 Aug 2007 19:52:15 +0000

Ah, Patricia. So beautiful. So timely. So lovely. So right on. I agree with your first commenter as well. That you’ve already left so much you could certainly curl up into a deep sleep if you wanted to. Fortunately you know there’s a huge ol’ posse out here ready to kick you in the shins if you try. But oh me oh my. You sho is write about this. Mortality is terrifying, and gratifying too.

By: patricia

patricia — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 15:31:15 +0000

The way I understand it, Yictove died this past weekend; he had a heart attack during a reading. I haven’t been able to find any more details.
I believe he’s being buried today.
There’s a celebration of his life, with readings and music, on Saturday from 3 to 6 p.m at the Payan Theater of the Times Square Arts Center, 300 W. 43rd St. in NYC (917-292-2683).
And yes, he was a miracle.

By: Russell Cayer

Russell Cayer — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 11:35:24 +0000

Well, certainly, poets are people too. Not only do they live and breathe, but they die as well. Of course poets are not special; just different, perhaps. The world would be less than what it is without poets, but not more so than without engineers. Engineers die, too. Still, our lives are reflective of those with whom we surround ourselves. If we surround ourselves with poets, then we will be fearful to see them go away. With whomever we surround ourselves, we will be fearful to see them go away. So we learn from them as best we can. And we try to pass on what we learn. It is encouraging, too, that we seem to see a revitalization of poetry. For certainly poetry has its place. And in its place it best serves the people, that is what we know. Poetry of the recondite serves no use. It is merely institutional. It’s funny that people call for a “new” form of poetry. Poetry can never be new, but only a re-working of the old. And in that understanding, of re-structured forms, we need address the people. This is the revitalization of which we speak, of a poetry “from, by, and of the people.” So as they die, let us give them birth.

By: kim

kim — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 06:27:57 +0000

Yictove died?
What a quiet man of dignity. What a keen eye and wit.
I loved how much he watched us, turned us over in his mind. Took us seriously. Stroked and slapped the backs of our hands, interchangeably.
The slow delivery…measured, assured. in. its. own. time.
That is how he laid it on. In. His. Own. Time.
I needed to know this. He will be missed. My children will know of him.

By: patricia

patricia — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 01:45:17 +0000

those stanzas roar. kudos.
and thank you for making me feel so alive.

By: nate van til

nate van til — Tue, 31 Jul 2007 21:19:09 +0000

If you die today or keep going without changing a thing, you’ve been right on time and right on target to so many people, Ms. Smith. To humanize (make real the suffering of) a person or group of people for other people, or even more importantly for themselves–that is about the most profound thing a human can ever do, along with helping us to understand that we are part of the earth, and that we are as important as everything in it, and everything in it as important as we.
And you’ve done many other fine things, besides doing that so wunnerful, everywhere you’ve been and come and gone.
Dug that ghazal, by the way.
Ms. Smith’s ghazal’s a gas—it keeps
the weeping priests puzzled en Mass;
funny–the ones wistful to nuzzle will
always be wishing to muzzle that ass.
dirty cur-mudgeon mongrel nate doggrel,
fronting at the back of the class war, why
oh why did I have to go and give sass for?