Saturday, December 30, 2023

Robert Creeley and Me

 Robert Creeley



I saw him read once.  In Chicago, in 1968 or 1969.  At a small private college.  North Park College maybe.  

He was brilliant.  One wow poem after another.  He was drunk.  He was sitting on a chair at the podium.  Drinking and reading and drinking and reading.  

I'd never seen a poet sitting and reading and drinking all at the same time hbut he was.  

And then he wasn't.  He had fallen down and wasn't getting up.  And then he was up again and reading.  And drinking.  And reading.  One wow poem after another.

Just like this one:

As Now It Would Be Snow

1

As now it would be snow

one would see, and in

the days, ways of looking

become as soft as shapes

under the snow, as dumb,

and the trees grey, in

the white light, he said: 


the mind is right to

fight the cold for the 

cold is not its cold, and

the sun is cold, the

nights as white as days,

against the mind, trying

to put the mind away.


2

As now it would be snow,

he could see the days

become another way which

he could not go back

to, and seeing trees

as sharp, still, in his

mind, he said: the mind is


right. The snow will go

and mind remain, and mind

as cold as snow upon the 

shapes of trees, to see

the trees as shapes as

sharp as cold, when sun

has put the snow away.


3


As now it would be snow

he would see, and the 

trees no longer sharp

but soft shapes, and for

the eye, a grey against

white, he thought, he

said: the time is right,


and the season cajoled,

and peaceful, what is

to do, is done in the 

coldness of the cold

sun, and in a night as

light, as white as day,

I put the mind away.

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