David Meltzer reads his poem "Brother "

At The Aqus Cafe for The Petaluma Poetry Walk on Sept. 20th, 2009

Very interesting re Ted Hughes poetry

Wild swim: Lumb Falls | Travel | guardian.co.uk: "Wild swim: Ted Hughes countryIn the third of a five-part series, Kate Rew swims West Yorkshire's sparkling Lumb Falls at the heart of poet Ted Hughes' childhood landscape."

I think anyone interested in Ted Hughes's poetry will find this short film a marvellous gem or rather a treasure of great interest and value.

Rockpile with The Rabbles

David Meltzer reads at Shelldance Orchid Nursery, 8-29-09 from ROCKPILE on Vimeo.

David Meltzer reads at the Shelldance Orchid Nursery First Annual Poetry, Music, and Art Festival in Pacifica on Saturday, August 29, 2009. Music by the Rabbles. Video by mxxx palmer

Aleksandar Hemon reads Stairway to Heaven

Books | guardian.co.uk

"Aleksandar Hemon reads Stairway to Heaven, the first story in his new collection, Love and Obstacles. A bookish Sarajevan sixteen-year-old is transplanted into the rich heat of Kinshasa, and begins an exhilarating friendship with a glamorous American"

"Recorded specially for the Guardian in the US, listen out for another story next week."

Guardian summer short fiction special

"Summer is here, so soak up stories from our favourite authors - and tell us who you'd like to see here next year"

New short stories by Dave Eggers, A. M. Holmes, David Mitchell, William Boyd and Julie Myerson. Also read the winner and runners up in the Guardian summer fiction short story competition.

Moloch - Summer '09

"It is in times like these that language becomes at once threatened and vital. And so we continue to read, talk and write."

Press F11 and keep pressing Next - you'll see a beautiful magazine with some good reading. However, I wonder if "The Last of the Nazis has Died" couldn't be improved by changing the entire text of the poem to something like "Good."

Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes, Dies

...by all accounts McCourt himself was in no way transformed by his success. Though that doesn't mean he didn't enjoy it immensely. "I wrote a book about growing up miserable, and the next thing I know I'm here," he said. "It's absurd, isn't it? It's extraordinary." (Time Magazine)

I think Angela's Ashes is a marvellous book, good enough to stand on the same shelf as Cider With Rosie by Laurie Lee. (Debateable?)

Feeding baby poems

"In the tradition of mother-writers making poems about baby feeding - writers like Eavan Boland and Sylvia Plath - I've written a poem about feeding my new baby." (Women Rule Writer)

The New Yorker online

Fiction

Lorrie Moore: “Childcare.”

Stephen O’Connor: “Ziggurat.”

Tim Gautreaux: “Idols.”

Jonathan Franzen: “Good Neighbors.”

Poetry

Jorge Luis Borges: “A Dream.”

Carol Muske-Dukes: “Twin Cities.”

Christian Wiman: “Five Houses Down.”

Julie Bruck: “The “World-Famous” Lipizzaners.”

The New Yorker continues to be a treasure trove for fiction and poetry. The above are online at the time of posting.

Nadine Gordimer reads a short story

Media Player at Nobelprize.org

"The 1991 Nobel Laureate in Literature Nadine Gordimer reads her short story 'Loot' from 'Loot and Other Stories'. The video was recorded at Harvard University in April, 2005."

JG Ballard's last story is online

Three years have passed since the collapse of the Tower of Pisa, but only now can I accept the crucial role that I played in the destruction of this unique landmark.

The modern world collides with the Renaissance in The Dying Fall by JG Ballard. (Guardian)

"When I was a poet"

David Meltzer reading in Petaluma, CA from ROCKPILE on Vimeo.

David Meltzer reading his poetry in Petaluma, CA on 28 March 2009. The two other poets reading that night, from whom video is also to be uploaded: Michael Rothenberg, Michael McClure.

Video by mxxx palmer

Burden

I wake up with him on top of me: not again. Afterwards he just pushes me out of bed. Throughout the day he circles round me, sizing me up. There is no love in his black eyes. I don’t fight back.Later, in an act of kindness, he takes me out to a restaurant. But we don’t go in. We look through the window at the couples, and dream of how things could be.It is dark when we get home and someone has lined our bed with fine metal spikes. I have to stop him getting half-impaled and my heart flutters. He gets angry at me but it’s not my fault. It’s late and we have to find another place to sleep. It’s so cold but we never cuddle.As I fall asleep, I wonder if tomorrow will be any different. I dream of us outside the restaurant, pecking used chewing gum from the pavement.

insignificant but desirable

the past.
there beneath the may-trees on warmest of evenings reading on past and disregarded events. moss and its shiny dampness by the dark river and tree roots twisted on worn away banks. the dark soil. black stones taken as forest patches. the day’s wisdom begins to fade into scales of gray pink.

leave now.
I shall go forth alone.

I whispered.

______

NB. may also be read here

as idiot.deProfundis blog has been deleted.

Balgay Hill

Balgay Hill was dark and damp
the trees stood still
they knew that they were trees
no magic forest

the bridge looked frail
as though the heavy gravestone
hung up front
weighed heavy on its mind

Mills Observatory observed
the dead who passed our car
they checked our eyes for signs
that we might stay

White Lady never crossed the bridge
she crossed the track with stealth
the stairs were stairs to no mans land
but the city lights were stars

S.Kennedy. 08/06