dbqp: visualizing poetics

Geof Huth, "You need" (8 Aug 2005)

ecr. l'inf.

Despite the pun implied in my title above, I actually assume that the title of Daniel f. Bradley's zine fhole (and his eponymous blog) is meant to be pronounced with two syllables. I could be wrong about that, but what I'm not wrong about is that fhole # 5 (the most recent issue) is a classic zine: inexpensively produced, simply designed, and full of visual and other poetry that you won't easily find in other venues.

On this day before my family celebrates our traditional Mango Day, I thought it might be appropriate to review of piece of visual poetic baking by Suzanne (an occasional correspondenct of mine who lives nearby but whose full name I have not yet deduced--but she has just told me her surname is Nixon). Suzanne is interested in writing that is physically tangible, such as snowglyphs, iceglyphs, and even baked goods.

Still Point, Caroga Lake, New York

The pwoermd (a single isolated word presented as a poem) lives in the murky twilight between poetry and visual poetry (the latter a form of twilight itself). The visual presence of the pwoermd, the sight of it on a page, is almost always necessary to allow the proper perception of the poem, yet its visual presence is usually not significant to the meaning of the poem.

Geof Huth, "afRO dITes (Homage to Bill Keith), Blue Version," 10 Aug 2005

I decided tonight that I had left my weblog's sidebar an undifferentiated confusion for too long, so I spent about an hour organizing my "Links" and "Evidence" into finer subcategories. Some nights each of us is a taxonomist. I have deleted a few links tonight, and added a few, but I have essentially just reorganized the links.

ecr. l'inf.

Schenectady, New York

I'm back at home in Schenectady, after taking a short vacation during which my family and I drove from here to Ohio to Tennessee and, eventually, New Orleans--and back. Because we've driven the entire way across the country four times we thought little of this jaunt, but it had its moments. One of my favorites was my visit to the home of John and Cathy Bennett, which I documented only eleven days ago.

Courtyard by Marriott, Room 414, Erie, Pennsylvania

Sometime in 1973 or 1974--during my family's winter trek across the country from San Francisco to Washington, D.C., taking a mostly southern route that took us through Galveston, Texas--we stopped at some historical site, as we were wont to do. I haven't the slightest sense of where this site was or what it was meant to commemorate, but I remember the gift shop.

Breakwater North, Hendersonville, Tennessee

In celebration of National Punctuation Day (which I have learned of just a few minutes ago), I have put aside my almost-completed entry for today and decided to present a simple punctuation poem of mine in its place.

Breakwater North, Hendersonville, Tennessee

I had planned to write nothing tonight. I am, after all, nearing the end of a vacation of sorts, and the issues relating to visiting people, living away from home, and simply moving through life seemed like enough to keep me busy tonight. But Reed Altemus somehow managed to change my mind--without even trying. He sent me a stark visual poem attached to an email (one that he did not even grace with a message).

Breakwater North, Hendersonville, Tennessee

Today, we made the long trip from New Orleans back to my family's home, so I'm posting a page from my visual poem sequence, vision: exterpreting the phaistos disk.

Geof Huth, A page from vision: exterpreting the phaistos disk (2002)

ecr. l'inf.