Poetry of Love, Resistance, & Solidarity

Posts tagged ‘Caleb Puckett’

Resurrection by Caleb Puckett

Lab-articulated Passenger Pigeons grow animate,Caleb

learn the lasting code of surrogate birds,

assimilate to survive a new world.

So much furtive futuring

with the wrong eyes

blinking belief

about history’s patent veracity.

What culture remains from this culturing?

Salvation’s negated by the damnation of seeming.

Passenger Pigeons pass clouds in body, dissolve in being.

~ Caleb Puckett

Caleb Puckett is the newest Mammoth Publications (www.mammothpublications.net) poet. His FATE LINES/ DESIRE LINES, spring 2014, is groundbreaking verse and prose poetry. Fate Lines/ Desire Lines balances between choice and compulsion, nature and persuasion. Originally from Albuquerque, Caleb Puckett lives with his wife, sons, and dogs in Ottawa, Kansas, where he works as an academic librarian. He has two book-length collections from Otoliths, Tales from the Hinterland and Market Street Exit. Puckett serves as associate poetry editor for Nimrod International Journal, and editor for the online literary journal Futures Trading (futurestradinglit.weebly.com). Poem here is from Fate Lines/Desire Lines, $15.00, 92 pages, perfect bound. Cover art by Thomas Pecore Weso. Order online www.mammothpublications.net or by mail, Mammoth, 1916 Stratford, Lawrence, KS 66044. Mention Kansas Time and Place and receive 30% discount.

Denise Low, Kansas Poet Laureate 2007-2009, is author of 25 award-winning books of poetry and prose. She does individual bookconsulting and editing, as well as workshops. She teaches in the Baker University School of Professional and Graduate Studies. Low is co-publisher of Mammoth Publications an independent small literary press specializing in Indigenous and Mid-Plains poetry and prose. Her poetry blog has over 400 entries, and she reviews poetry for the Kansas City Star. For more, see BIOGRAPHY. Her book of poetry Mélange Block, from Red Mountain Press, Santa Fe, assembles a geological continuum of passion, grief, and American Indian and European histories. She launches the book in Albuquerque at Bookworks, June 14, 3 pm; in Santa Fe at the Santa Fe Community Foundation, 501 Halona St. (corner of the Paseo de Peralto), June 15, 2:30 pm and in Lawrence, Ks., the Raven Bookstore, June 25, 7 pm. Recent online publications are from Numero Cinq, Feb. 2014. An interview is in the Feb. 2014 Museum of Americanaliterary journal. North Dakota Q.published a special issue about William Stafford, including Low’s “‘The Way It Is’: Second Sight in William Stafford’s Poetry.”Contact information is at www.deniselow.net

Listening to Hank Williams by Caleb Puckett

 

563187_507505829315613_1983384639_n_003I open my jug of wine in the shadows of the station. I whistle at the passing trains. I’m a lost musician riding a casket down rose-strewn highways. Here on the bayou, the stars turn purple as the earth toils with funeral music. Here on the bayou, the garden turns red with a lost whippoorwill’s cry. Here on the bayou, the leaves scroll blindly and fade down that long, long path towards the Master’s plantation. I’m rolling lonesome beyond this sunset. I’m rolling lonesome behind a cloud. I whistle and wait. Weary blues. I open my jug of wine and cover my face. What would you have me say of faith?

Memory is a hallowed voice. Hallowed be your name, my dear. Glory. Glory, dear. Glory turns us all gray. Glory to your curly hair anyhow, anyway. Yes, your grand house in Savannah was such a fine altar, but I never bowed to your Master. Yes, a faithful pride betters blind love, girl. Your kisses crumbled like clay. I rolled and I rambled. I rambled and I rolled. Weary blues. Good Lord, I put miles on these boots. Still the moon-bright lilacs die. Still smoke chokes the heart of morning. Still the gates of peace swing shut. So I open my jug of wine like I opened your false heart, drinking deep the lonesome darkness. I whistle, willing nothing beyond. But I’ve got to pick guitar after the train blows midnight. Lord, my sorrow’s cost me everything but these six strings bent against the weight of night.

~ Caleb Puckett

Caleb Puckett lives near some of those cornfields in Kansas. His writing has appeared in a range of publications, including Diode, Mad Hatters’ Review, Moria, NOÖ Journal, and Shampoo. He has published verse chapbooks with Plan B Press and The Feral Press (an imprint of Prehensile Pencil Press), as well as two book-length prose collections, Tales from the Hinterland and Market Street Exit, with Otoliths.

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