[Roger Slater]

Well, the Willie Sutton argument convinces me that this is something to look into, not to mention the hug from Bo Derek (who must still be at least an "8"). And what you said about Snodgrass lends a comforting legitimacy, as well.

Since it seems that the same group of organizations also runs a vanity scam, publishing thousands of crappy poems and selling the books to the crappy poets, that may be the reason that some of us were slow to understand that this is a legitimate contest with qualified judges who do in fact hand out the advertised prizes.

Could you post information about which of their prizes and contests are for real, and which are vanity press scams? How much does it cost to enter? Do you have to go to the convention? Etc.

Anyway, I've looked back over your poem, and while I don't find it to be worth $900 a line, it is certainly worth two free contributors' copies in many good magazines. I hope you find the time between ruptured spleens and GSW's to stop by and participate on our poetry boards from time to time.

[Pua Sandabar]

Holy guacamole!!
Twenty thousand dollars?
Unbelieveable! And wonderful!
Very very happy for you, Michael!

Who's next, I wonder?!

---Pua

[Terese Coe]

Michael said:

I used the term, "Formalist," earlier, and I have to say here I am annoyed by this word. It seems to be a label for a card-carrying member of a disreputable political organization. I imagine a hapless poet being interrogated by an idiot repeating over and over, "Are you now, or have you ever been, a Formalist?"

Michael, I imagine most of the formalists here are rather proud to be known as formalists. I certainly am: I've spent many years of my life doing this kind of work and no longer give a damn what other poets or anomalies don't respect it. Every now and then, like this afternoon, I run into an old friend who has been writing song lyrics all his life and he is amazed to learn there is such an entity as a Neoformalist movement. This friend said "Hallelujah! You mean we're not alone?!"

Terese

[Michael Creagan]

I am a "Formalist," as I guess you use the term. I write very few poems in free verse. And yes, I like the company of poets who are interested in matters of technique and form. That's how I found my way here. But all poets are, for better or worse, formalists in a larger sense. I remember something Henri Coulette wrote about himself: "I consider myself a maker, not a Bard, with all that that implies." Anyone who wants to make poems is using "form, either well or badly. In order to write well, you have to know, simply, everything, about the art. Good poems can be written in free verse, of course, but they still have to be made artfully. I guess I was just being a wiseass when I was writing the stuff you were quoting above.

Here is a poem I wrote recently for one of our really accomplished members, Bob Mezey, until recently a neighbor of mine in Claremont . He has moved to the other side of the country, and I miss him. I think the poem will show my feelings about "form" better than an essay.

To A Dear Friend Who Is Living Far Away

after an ancient Chinese poem by Po Chui

Only a year ago, I met a friend,
a master in the art of poetry.
I had been reading his books since I was young
and many of the poems I knew by heart.
My poems were clearly the work of an apprentice
but he was kind and generous to me
and welcomed me as a fellow in the art.
Many the hours we charmed with talk of verse.
We quoted favorite lines to one another,
often the other's favorites as well.
Some well-loved poems we would recite together
as if we were chanting scripture, or a prayer.
Long ago, a poet friend once asked him,
"How many people in the world tonight
are thinking about the meters?" We thought about them,
we talked about them. Hell, we reveled in them,
with the love that masquerades as pure technique.
I think back often to the night we met
and started talking about poetry.
The doors of Heaven opened in my mind.
I would have laughed, had someone told me then
that after only one brief year had gone
I would be struggling with how to say farewell
to someone I had simply grown to love
as a father, brother, teacher and dear friend.
His house is sold. He is living far away.
Tonight I dreamed that he was back in Claremont
and I saw again the face of an old friend.
He seemed to be saying that nothing had really changed.
Words can travel at the speed of light
and we will go on talking as before.
I woke up and thought he was still talking to me.
I turned on the light. There was no one there at all.
On a night like tonight, missing his company,
I will sit at my wooden table under the trees.
A candle will illuminate the page
on which I'll write some words to send to him,
hoping to make him smile, and touch his heart.


I don' t know how to italicize on these posts. "How many
people in the world tonight are thinking about the meters?" is something Henri Coulette said. "The love that masquerades as pure technique " is a line from a poem by Donald Justice. "Hell, we reveled in them," is an imitation of something Robert Frost said. Mezey, Justice, Coulette, and Frost--what a fine company of poets. I like to think of them as great poets, rather than thinking of them as great "Formalists." Of course it goes without saying that all of them are masters of the formal aspects of our ancient art.



[This message has been edited by Michael Creagan (edited December 04, 2002).]

[Roger Slater]

I'm glad that Dr. Creagan has disclosed that Dr. Mezey is his "dear friend." I had been rather confused by the suggestion that David Anthony, an accomplished poet in his own right, doesn't "know what he was talking about" because he dared to criticize the "technique" of the winning poem, or that those who don't admire the poem as much as Dr. Mezey are "resentful and jealous," but these unfortunate remarks obtain the rank of virtue when seen in the light of friendship.

Still, isn't anyone the least bit concerned about the kind of story that Carol Taylor told, about how these organizations manipulate, deceive and ultimately embarrass thousands of people who are scammed into buying a vanity publication? It's nice for those who reap a windfall, especially if they write great poems, but one need be neither "resentful" nor "jealous" to raise an eyebrow at the prospect of competing for money that comes from such activities.

Personally, I'm much more jealous of the $2 per line that Dr. M has often received from Poetry than I am of the $900 per line that Dr. C got from poetry.com.

[Golias]

I calculate it at $555.56 per line, but let it pass, let it pass...

[Robert Swagman]

Michael

Congratulations on the award. I doubt any of us would have turned down the honor, especially with such a cash award.

I haven't had any contact with vanity press or organizations like the ISP, so I'm in no position to criticize or legitimize them. If someone wants to pay $50 to see their name in print, that's their business and I see nothing wrong with it. As long as they're realistic about it. I never doubted a cash award was given to someone. There are federal organizations, as well as state agencies, who keep track of contests and keep them legal.

What does bother me, however, is what can happen to someone who's not aware of how these contests work. Take for example, SnowAngel, the fourteen year old who posted here several months ago, believing herself to be a fantastic poet with natural greatness - and proceeded to tell everyone. After all, she had been named a winner in just such a competition - and been told how she was one of their best poets. Everyone else here, of course, was just jealous...well, you get the picture.

Eventually, I believe, she investigated the contest and realized what it was about. Not only was she hurt, but when she came back here in earnest, few people were willing to take a chance on critting her again.

How many people go through this kind of build-up, only to end up having reality smacking them painfully in the chops? I don't know, but it seems to me that this one was enough.

Do these organizations lie? I highly doubt it. Do they deceive people? Yes. Is it ethical? Each person has to answer that one themselves. It would have been interesting had we critiqued your piece prior to learning of the award. No one, I think, could do it as objectively now.

Being the suspicious sort, I must honestly say I'm curious why someone whom I've never seen post here come on, refer to us as 'fellow Spherians' and announce his good fortune, if not to enlist others to pay up and submit. I hope you will understand that people who don't know you may take it the wrong way.

Enjoy the money, and I look forward to your participation here, which I'm sure will allay any suspicions even the worst of us may have.

Jerry

[robert mezey]

Roger, I don't think you can have seen many lines of mine
in Poetry---except for a couple of the Borges translation I
did with Dick Barnes, I don't think I've published anything
there in 30 or 40 years. (Of course, given my aging memory,
I may be wrong.) In fact, the editor, Mr. Parisi, in a fit of irrational rage that still makes no sense to me, told me about
eight or nine years ago that I would never ever publish any- thing in Poetry again. You can imagine how many sleepless nights that caused me.
By the way, I'm not a Dr, neither a real doctor like Mike Creagan or a doctor of philosophy, literature etc. All I have is a BA. When students called me Dr, I told them to take two
aspirin and call me next semester.

[Roger Slater]

Mr. Mezey (but it's still "Dr." to many of us), I've seen your name in so many books and journals and anthologies over the years that I would have bet all my future prize money from poetry.com that you were a frequent contributor to Poetry. The good news for the rest of us is that your banishment from Poetry opens up an additional page or two where we might fantasize our poems could reside, but the bad news is that Poetry won't be as much fun to read.

[Len Krisak]

Dear Mr. Mezey,

Roger has put that very nicely,
but now...we just GOTS to know:
please, please, please tell us whatever
on earth it might have been that led
Parisi to such extremes. Surely there
is a juicy story here? Can't you at least
feed us a few more crumbs?