A Poem Beats Its Chest

Photo &  Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by Molly Blades

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Moliere

John Ruoff as Moliere

Poem by Carl Nelson/Photo by Carl Nelson/Voice by John Ruoff

Oh, the Spring! (Mole’s Song)

Photo/Poster by Carl Nelson

Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice of John Ruoff

My Eyes Are Swimming Like Fish

Photo by Carl Nelson

Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice of John Ruoff

The Ocean

Photo by Carl Nelson

Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice of John Ruoff

My Desire For Oranges

My Desire for Oranges

Prose tends to flow freely like a brook, bunching up a bit before a rock,  churning a bit in a whirlpool, or slowly circling in a backwater.  But the meaning is usually clear.

A poem, on the other hand, can be more like a plank of knotty pine.  It may run straightforward and freely for a while in a clear grain – and then bunch suddenly in a knot of quite complex thought or be lost suddenly, and for a while, in a vacant hole of revelation.  For this reason, I’ve sometimes used the first or second take of a recording, rather than a more practiced later version.  Like a buzzsaw, in the initial take you can feel the mind labor as the voice gears down to cut through a hardened knot of particularly opaque meaning, or fly freely as the minds sawblade spins wildly through a vacant hole of illumination.  I enjoy hearing this dialogue between the poem and reader.

Photo by Carl Nelson / Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by John Ruoff

A Man And His Cat

A Bit More There, If You Please

Photo by Carl Nelson / Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by John Ruoff

Dickens

Victorian Hotel

Photo by Carl Nelson / Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by John Ruoff

Cowboy Recipe

Cowboy Recipe

Photo by Carl Nelson / Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by John Ruoff

A Wedding Is a Crowd

A Wedding Is a Crowd

Photo by Carl Nelson / Poem by Carl Nelson / Voice by Carl Nelson