If someone asks me “who is your favorite poet?” I never really have an immediate answer, as the poetry that I truly enjoy and connect with is any piece, regardless of author, that comes along and reaches into my heart and slaps some feeling into it. Just the same as with music, my only criteria for a good song or poem is that it makes me FEEL. And so my favorite poet would be the one with no name; the one who hands you a fresh classic on a stray piece of paper or napkin; the one who shows up unannounced at a reading and quietly waits their turn to deliver, putting the entire room to its knees.
Our preferences and tastes certainly evolve as we grow as artists and as humans beings, this is true. But if you were to ask me who my favorite singer was, well my response would be, without hesitation, Janis Joplin (who was also a poet and an artist)…my number one since I was very young. That has never changed. The lady was simply the all-time BEST blues singer–bar none–definately unduplicable even throughout all of these years. Everything she did was directly from her heart and soul. And if you were to pin me down for a name when it comes to favorite poets, I believe I would have to say that would be James Douglas Morrison, a contemporary of Miss Joplin’s, more commonly known as Jim Morrison of The Doors. He was poet first; he went out a poet as well. The rock n roll demigod thing was a wild ride he happened to catch on the inbetween. His poetry is mystical, raw and rather dark, yet not without deep vision and even hope. Most of The Doors classic song lyrics were originally derived from his early work; the notebook scribblings of an unknown pilgrim who created from rooftops, beaches and highway roadsides. A good lot of his poetry collection was brought to the light of day after he left; and much of it lies stored in the Akashic files, as in life he would periodically comb through his root archives and burn single-draft copy transcriptions of his inner mind…cleansed by fire, read only by the spirits.
Since just very recently entering this world of blogging, I’ve encountered some awesome contemporary poets and writers within my bumbling excursions online. And so I have acquired a whole new category of favorites, poets I have truly enjoyed reading and communicating with, and I’d like to mention a few of them here:
Poet of Midnight. www.mysteryofwriting.wordpress.com. This virtuous young lady holds some fresh and almost innocent ideals; writes beautifully insightful and romantic poems. She is also a storyteller and is posting chapters from a short story in progress.
Mama Zen. www.mamaneedsshoes.blogspot.com. This poetry blog, also known as “Another Damn Poetry Blog” or “Motherhood After Dark”, is linked to Mama Zen’s other, “parent” blog, www.thezenofmotherhood.blogspot.com, which is a mixture of witty and humorous insights on family life, photos and reviews. Her poetry link will lead you to some rich and genuine pieces, the kind of poems that really speak to you.
Jeanne Adwani. www.geezergirl.org. This wonderfully animated hairdresser from Ann Arbor, Michigan runs her own shop, called “Be Hair Now”. She is also a very talented poet and evoker of expanded consciousness, positive thought. She is known to combine the language of the Tarot and Numerology with the messages in her poems.
Pat Johnson. www.honestbuzzard.wordpress.com. (Ya gotta love the moniker!) This guy, based out of San Diego, California, is one helluva storyteller! His poems themselves are stories, and all of his short stories are true: narratives and observances of some wild, colorful memories, very earthy and laced with humor. His voice is down and real, unpretentious and somewhat gritty; sort of like the Charles Bukowski of his time. He holds back nothing and his work is captivating, quite easy to indulge in…
Well that’s about all for now, folks. There are many others which I have recently happily discovered and, yes, more will appear on the blogroll. But for now, for this computer-green poet, it’s a little at a time. I’m learning as I go with this internet experience; half the time I don’t know what I’m doing, and don’t know how the hell I did it when it’s done! Chow!