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In Place of Me
In Place of Me
In Place of Me
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In Place of Me

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"[Doreen] has become an expert at controlling the speeds of her poems, and this automotive aspect of poetic expression is not something to be scoffed at- not simply because most people's minds spend an hour or two a day in motion in cars, but because that motion and the inner workings of mind and heart have played important parts in shaping or resh
LanguageEnglish
PublisherDoreen Stock
Release dateJun 18, 2015
ISBN9780990920328
In Place of Me

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    In Place of Me - Doreen Stock

    Acknowledgments

    I wish to extend thanks to Jack Hirschman for his kind attention to the entire body of my work for ten years past in order to create this collection, and to the editors of the magazines in which the following poems have previously appeared:

    Nashim: Oasis and Desire.

    Poetry Greece: In the Old Mosque, The Sweetness Problem.

    Haight Ashbury Literary Journal: Kaballah.

    Tambourine: Wings of Another Era.

    The Redwood Coast Review: I Was Swimming.

    The Third Tiger, Travel Journal, published by Nomad Travels: Tigers.

    The Marin Poetry Center Anthologies:

    Volume Five, 2002: We Plant Children, I Was Swimming, Eating Pizza with the Jews, Torture.

    Volume Nine, 2006: Redeemed Criminal Being Executed.

    Volume Ten, 2007: Blue Tango #1.

    Volume Eleven, 2008: For Two Schoolgirls/Logar Province, Afghanistan, Reading Etgar Keret in Café Lo Cubano.

    Volume Twelve, 2009: To An Oud, Last Tango in Buenos Aires, For You in the Dark with a Coke, For Hannah Crossing into Snow.

    Washington Square Review, summer ’09: A Camel is Kneeling on the Far Side of the World.

    Revolutionary Poets Brigade, Vol. I: Redeemed Criminal Being Executed.

    California Quarterly, Vol. 37, no. 1: The Order of Words.

    DOREEN STOCK: AN INTRODUCTION

    A few years ago, at a poetry reading at the Red Poppy Cafe (now the Red Poppy Art House) in the Mission District of San Francisco, I happened to see my old friend Doreen Stock again. I recall that it had been a number of years since we’d last met—she lived in Stinson Beach and, during those same years, I’d been traveling a lot in Europe, at times up to five months out of a year—but in a way she was never too far away, and for a special reason: Doreen was the poet I knew in the ’70s—when I started translating from Russian, and then actually started writing poems in Russian—who also was translating from Russian. She especially loved the poems of Anna Akhmatova and Marina Tsvetaeva. She also worked at times in a collective of translators that published a multilingual magazine of revolutionary poetry, Compages. And she had a small press of her own, and had published translations from Russian, of a little-known but extraordinary émigré poet, Natasha Belyaeva, in a book called Hunger, which I had translated.

    As for her own poems, in the ’70s and ’80s she’d come over the Golden Gate Bridge from Mill Valley, where she lived before her divorce and removal to Stinson Beach. She was raising three children, but she’d participate in North Beach readings and often one saw her at the Intersection on Union Street.

    At times, maybe once a year, she’d mail me a new book of poems she’d written. She’d obviously printed it herself—there’d be 25 or 50 copies—and organized a cover drawing or collage. The book was for friends or poets she admired, here and abroad. She wrote I thought well, sensitively, with lyrical sincerity in her love poems, though there was an aura about her work of a deliberateness I couldn’t fathom. Like myself, she overused the word forever in her work—usually as a kind of emphatic romanticism, like the way we’d send each other’s letters or postcards through the years signed: Vsyegda (Always). But by and large, and exclusive of the Russian dimension, I’d have to admit that I hadn’t given too much thought to Doreen’s poetry.

    That is, until a couple of years ago, when it happened rather all at once that I was given the insight by a poem of hers to realize that for a long time I had not fully recognized the importance of the poetry of Doreen Stock.

    That poem, Redeemed Criminal Being Executed: San Quentin, December 13, 2005, for Tookie Williams, is the one that sent me back reading through all the chapbooks that Doreen had sent me through the years. It made me realize that it wasn’t just a sincerity and lyricism of feeling that had been the substance of her poetry; she has developed through the years a mastery of a form of what I call projective heart-speak. Such a nomination redounds, on the one hand, to some of the principles enunciated in Charles Olson’s by now modern classical Projective Verse essay. Olson sought to not merely open modern poetry (which already had occurred, i.e., Whitman, William Carlos Williams, etc.) but, within a projective leap of language, to manifest the unique way a particular poet thinks and feels using in this instrument we have called the American language.

    Like a bolt out of the blue, I realized that Stock had managed to develop the three aspects of projective that are essential to the poem: the first of course is the heart-speak, the facing of the whatness that is being felt as the object of one’s being called to write the very poem, the object that is in fact demanding the leap of language; the second aspect of her particular mastery is that she has remained faithful to that tension between poetry and prosody, a tension that has been the result of all the invasions of technology on human sensibility, with the result that her mind and inner-speech are at home in the world of the verbal montage of images (here, her translation experience also plays a part), which leads to the third aspect of her style: she has become an expert at controlling the speeds of her poems, and this auto-motive aspect of poetic expression is not

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