February 27, 2021

Peter Davis

ACCEPTENCE SPEECH FOR WINNING THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE

First off, most importantly, I’d like to thank war
for making peace so valuable. We should be willing to thank
the bad for making the good possible. I say, “I would never
know the moon without night.”

However, we all know the black tar of violence
sticks to the machines and they don’t work right.
We’ve all seen an arrow through a bloody heart.
We all know whose heart it is.

I’d like to praise doctors and nurses for caring for wounds.
It is a dirty business.
I prefer to not have wounds, and yet I know this award
is like a metal-plated wound on my heart.

… The sacrifice of waterfalls, the terrific flight of a seagull,
the hanging of vines and leaves from trees, the insects,
the crayfish and miniscule snails, the small canyons
and the man-made tunnels under roads …

I cannot swallow these things out of my chest.
I cannot digest butterflies or sharp knives.
There is no part of me that smells a soup from our
broth of intolerance and one-sidedness.

Thank you for giving me something
to remember the sadness of my life by. My life is a religion
of sadness and I only wish that others would join me
and reach out because they are sad too.

I would love to wake up one morning and find hands,
some up to the elbow, coming out of my lawn.

from Rattle #24, Winter 2005

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Peter Davis: “I’m a guy who lives with my wife and son in Muncie, Indiana. I have doubts about myself as a poet and teacher. I do the best I can. That’s why I write poems: because I try. I mean, essentially, I’m hopeful. It’s not very cynical and heartless at its core. It’s not very punk.” (web)

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December 9, 2016

Peter Davis

THE FUTURE AS WE PLANNED IT

Don’t blow the tube larger than it
needs to be, she warned, but I was
in no mood for warnings
and so I blew the tube far larger
than was necessary. And that was
the least of my flubs. I fucked
up the stuff in the cupboard, too.
In those days I was a mess.
But when she arrived with the code,
the dictation, and the system,
I wasn’t prepared at all. I remember
standing in the doorway, in my plastic
suit, pulling the hood over my ears,
fixing my eyes on the corner.
In the wide open, everyone could
sense the future. I had doubts, but
told no one. The warnings continued
and by spring, most of us were
weaving through the fields
and aluminum bleachers.
The rose that no one wanted to grow
began blooming by the school.
The nun that no one wanted to hear
began growling in the choir.
When the winter was thinking of
pulling off autumn’s skirt, the bad boy
inside of me gave way. I no longer
listened when the voice started.
In a way, I was oblivious. In another
way, I was a murderer whose
crimes just hadn’t happened yet.

from Rattle #53, Fall 2016

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Peter Davis: “I live in Muncie, Indiana, where I write, draw, and make music largely because I can’t think of a better way to use my time. I raise my kids and I teach. I try to stay healthy and be good to my wife. It’s not always easy, but writing now and again makes it better.” (website)

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June 10, 2012

Review by Mary Harwell SaylerPoetry! by Peter Davis

POETRY! POETRY! POETRY!
by Peter Davis

Bloof Books
ISBN 978-0-9826587-0-3
2010, pp. 115, $l6.00
www.bloofbooks.com

If I were to call this book fresh and innovative, you wouldn’t know if I meant brilliant or weird, but that’s okay since both would be true. Although I’ve read hundreds of books of or about poetry, I can honestly say that I have never read anything like this!

Starting with the title, you might expect the book to talk about various forms of poetry or, perhaps, explain the terminology and techniques often used in well-written poems. That’s what I thought anyway, but I was wrong! wrong! wrong! Instead, the book presents poems collected around a central theme, but with another little twist: i.e., every poem in the book is a prose poem. That’s amusing in itself because traditional poets and even free verse writers usually disdain prose poetry as a contradiction in terms, creating an unlikely form that, at best, they deem to be an oxymoron and, at worse, boxy and moronic!

The form chosen for this book provided no obstacle for me though since I just recently came to appreciate prose poems as a super-cool form that’s so fun to play with I’ve now placed a few of my own. But, to use the same boring-looking form for over 100 pages yet sustain reader-interest until “The End” requires more dexterity than stacking blocks. Somehow, however, the poet manages with more than enough skill to keep these little chunks of poems from toppling over and crashing.

To use–consistently–the box paragraphing of prose poems can be tricky enough, but the poet also used a consistent title format. With the exception of two poems, the title for every poem in the book begins with “Poem Addressing…,” which sounds, well, boring. Or maybe such consistent use of blah titles might lead readers to expect the poems to be consistently blah, sloppy, slapdash, slipshod, sentimental, or some other adjective for amateurish. Anyone in their right (or left) mind might think so, but they would be wrong, wrong about that too. At least I was.

For a quick example, look at the two exceptions to the rule for titling to which the poet entitled himself: “Poem That Begs For Reassurance” and “Poem That Belligerently Addresses People Who Believe I’m Self-Obsessed or Something Like That.” Even if you think the poet might be, yeah, self-obsessed, you have to admit to the humor.

The consistent titles also range from mild to wild humor with such headings as “Poem Addressing Some of the Obstacles This Poem Will Face as It Tries to Entertain, Impress, and Succeed in the World of Poetry,” “Poem Addressing Potential Publishers of This Poem. Thanks!” “Poem Addressing People Whom I Might Be Asking to Write a Blurb for the Back Cover of the Book in Which This Poem Appears,” “Poem Addressing People Who Might Hire Me for Their Tenure-Line Teaching Position but Are Unsure about What They’re Reading,” “Poem Addressing Contemporary Poets of Whom I’ve Been Jealous on More Than One Occasion,” “Poem Addressing People Who Have Actually Decided to Write a Review of This,” or “Poem Addressing People Who Would Like Me to Contribute to Their Really Cool Journal.”

Those titles give you an idea of what you’ll find: irony, quirkiness, humor, and even a rather sweet childlike silliness. Some have called the poems “self-referential,” which in the truest meaning of the word may be true, but that does not give a sense of the tone or probable points of emanation, which often bring forth self-deprecating poems. So, for all the bravado and references to the “I” self, the poems emit an aura of shyness and the expressed need to be received, validated, and embraced by readers.

If you write poetry as well as read it, you know that also describes how most of us feel about our poems or ourselves as poets, which, in my opinion, is what this book is really about–i.e., writing poems and being poets. For example, the book opens with a “Poem Addressing the Speculation as to Who You Are and Imagining My Death Reaffirming My Life,” expressing the curiosity (or, perhaps, hopes) most of us have about our potential readers: Who are they? Where are they? Or, are they?

With the typical conversational tone maintained through the book, the first poem begins, “So you like reading I imagine,” then goes on to imagine who this reader is or where or even when. For example: “Or you could have found these words in 2074 on a sheet of paper that is wrapped around your birthday gift. Perhaps you are thinking that the wrapping paper is better than the gift. Perhaps you haven’t yet unwrapped the gift.”

Besides directly engaging the reader in that second word, second person “you,” the first poem in the book ended on a note that was, for me, poignant. This sensitivity and the titles and the humor also kept me reading with anticipation that did not lag. Then, right at the point I began to wonder what else Peter Davis could say about poetry-writing, poets, readers, academia, and publishing, I found his poems addressing economists, conspiracy theorists, and dictators, trying to get them not only to read but market his poetry! That concept alone is rather hilarious–spoofing yet seriously touching on the obsession with marketing that most of us poets actually have.

Meeting or disappointing the expectations of other people in general and readers in particular is another major concern we have as poets, too, and as regular and irregular people in everyday life. Since I want to give you another example of the poems, I’ll close by printing in full the shortest poem in the book along with my recommendation to stay ready for anything as you fully enjoy the work of Peter Davis.

Poem Addressing People with Certain Expectations about Poetry That Are Not Fulfilled in This Poem by Peter Davis

Change

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Mary Harwell Sayler: “Hymn lyrics and A Child’s Garden of Verse began my poetry-loving life as a reader, music listener, and player with words. For many years, however, I worked as a freelance writer in all genres for all age groups, which gave me plenty of positive affirmation and lots of contracts by traditional publishers but no poetry book. Reportedly, editors find it difficult to publish manuscripts they never receive. So, when I finally quit going around and around with indecisions about revisions (for my work, not yours!), I aimed my nature poems straight toward the environmentally-inclined Hiraeth Press, who scheduled Living in the Nature Poem for release this year! For some reason, though, it’s easy for me to see what you need to do to improve your poems, so if you want to know too, check out The Poetry Editor blog and website.”

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