Poet and Revelator: John Berryman (1914-1972)

Reading a review of "A Trip to Echo Spring" by Olivia Laing, on writers and drinking, she mentioned John Berryman. This also resonated with the recent publication of Diving Into the Wreck, a new novel by Chang-rae Lee which also is a reminder of Adrienne Rich's powerful volume of poems of the same name. Thinking about how important and what a revelation of the personal, spiritual, and interior that poetry was, or seemed to be, in the 1970s, and how it feels to have been overtaken and overshadowed by the vast amount of information, knowledge and entertainment competing for our attention today. Of course there are still many poets at work, although poetry has taken on a preciousness, sometimes academic, sometimes folkloric, often highfalutin', poetry with a capital P, written with questionable talent or value. But again, in a new world where social media has created another enormous venue for creativity,expression, personal revelation, who knows where poetry can or cannot be found.

For now - remembering John Berryman who died by his own action on the banks of the Mississippi River this day in 1972.

More on John Berryman here

-- Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

Dream Song 1 by John Berryman


Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,--a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.

All the world like a woolen lover
once did seem on Henry's side.
Then came a departure.
Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought.
I don't see how Henry, pried
open for all the world to see, survived.

What he has now to say is a long
wonder the world can bear & be.
Once in a sycamore I was glad
all at the top, and I sang.
Hard on the land wears the strong sea
and empty grows every bed.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15206#sthash.JN1IaXdR.dpuf