In 2005 my friend and colleague, Lars Bjuvberg, committed suicide in Stockholm. Lars and I weren’t all that close, but his death hit me in a way that I still don’t fully understand. Perhaps it was as simple as the fact that someone so very talented had escorted himself off this mortal stage. Or perhaps it was more complicated –
Read moreSome months back I submitted a long “poem” to a new publication called Uncanny Valley. (I quote-mark the word “poem” for reasons that are quickly evident to the reader. It’s part poem, but it’s also comprised of elements that are’t poetry at all – snips of drama script, blog entries, actual e-mail exchanges, photographs, newspaper clippings, playbills, and so on.)
Read moreYou’ve probably heard by now: REM, one of the progenitors of alt.rock has called it quits after 30 years and 15 albums. The first five REM records (Murmur, Reckoning, Fables of the Reconstruction, Life’s Rich Pageant and Document) deserve at least 18 stars out of a possible 20 and 1992’s Automatic for the People earned five more. By any standard, they
Read moreHere’s a preview of this week’s ArtSunday feature, with some comments from the editor at the end. King Subway (Tokyo Station)—October, 1988▲
Read moreS&R salutes the United States, warts and all. Today we launch a little 4th of July Art & Poetry Jam with Claude McKay’s famous sonnet, “America.” More great poetry, and more on McKay, can be found at The Poetry Foundation’s site. America Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth, Stealing my breath
Read moreThis one is actually fun. And pretty damned cynical about the world of business and advertising, to boot.
Read moreIt’s Memorial Day weekend. As we honor our fallen, let’s also reflect on the larger question of war and on the reasons these dead heroes are too often asked to give up their lives. S&R invites our readers to offer their own favorite poems of war and memory. Or stories. Or personal recollections. Whatever. I’ll start. This one, from Yehuda
Read moreAnd now, for today’s reading.
Read moreI wrote this maybe 20 years ago and it was published in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature in April, 1993. Zen and the Art of Rainfall 1. Out last night, couple of beers with her friends. Yes, her: that one, the one, gone now. Pale sweet ghost, thin blade of lip, profusion of mahogany curl.
Read moreToday is World Poetry Day. We here at S&R appreciate great poetry (we even launched our own literary journal) and we invite you to share with our readers your favorite poem or poet. We’ll go first. Yesterday was the Equinox, and we’re now barreling headlong into longer days and beautiful weather. One of the greatest expressions of natural beauty ever
Read moreScholars & Rogues recently launched the S&R LitJournal in order to promote creative writing in the form of new poetry, fiction and nonfiction. We’ve received and published several works from talented authors and look forward to presenting our readers with more quality original literature in the future. Since some members of our staff are creative writers, we’re familiar with the
Read moreI am haunted by numberless islands… – WB Yeats Walking by the shore at dusk, air leaden with a faith in words. William looks up, says Maud, the sky is full of dragonflies. She stares beyond the sea. That’s nice, Bill. But I’ve a kingdom to burn. Your bugs will be dead by morning. Words are a piper, he says.
Read more– Imbolc 2011, 2:17am MST Old Ethan like a walking stick, daylong shadow: sets him after a halfway pole fifty mile through a dankling woods. October throwed his scarecoat down. November framed those woods a house of smoke. December painted the black days white. Come January, the ringnecks froze in place. Treelocked they’ll sit ’til April flumes their melted songs
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lullaby pit 