Quesitons on Eating poetry by mark strand?

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

Poem "Eating poetry" Mike Stand

 Poet: Poem: Eating PoetryVolume: Year: Published/Written in 1980Poem of the Day on:

Healthy Eating Poem - YouTube

Maureen Doallas, a friend of this blog – of many blogs, writers, and artists – proof positive that Twitter and Facebook are a benefaction, and a blogger herself at , is among her varied talents also a poet, whose collection Neruda’s Memoirs, if not written, at least published on paper, is just out from . You can find it at . Maureen has been featured once before in the Eating Poetry series, with her poem “” back in April of last year, but still drawing reaction just days ago, from commenter Cindee. Here is what I’ve had to say about Neruda’s Memoirs.

eating poetry: gocco printing with chocolate

A while back, an essay of mine, "Eating Poetry," appeared in (Winter 1974). I was much taken, at the time, with Mark Strand's poem of the same name, "Eating Poetry" (from , Atheneum, 1968), and I teased out of it a controlling metaphor for reading poetry. By eating the poem, taking it into himself and making it his own—muscle, blood, tissue, bone—the stuff of his life, the reader transforms himself. "I am a new man," Strand's eater (reader), having eaten (read), says. The poem nourishes and sustains the reader. He needs it, as his body needs food. "When I read poetry," quoting myself, "I read as if my life depends on it, because it does." But there is more to the eating poetry metaphor than I suggested in my "Eating Poetry" essay.

Meathead poetry slam. Eat your heart out, @rtvch23. (at Spider House Cafe and Ballroom)
Part Two: in which I demonstrate, by reading Mark Strand's poem "Eating Poetry," how the metaphor works and that an awareness of it exists--at least among poets.The Librarian in Strand's poem reminds me of the librarians ("and cultural ambassadors and / especially museum directors") in Ferlinghetti's (1958), who think "truth is the secret of a few," their few. She "does not understand" the Eater, and she "does not believe what she sees:" Him, eating poetry. Without belief and understanding, both of which the Eater seems to require of her, the Librarian has no argument for herself. She is helpless and hopeless. Shelving poetry, not eating poetry, is her business, and she minds it. (She is, after all, the library's counterpart to the grocery's stock-boy, and the library here is a grocery--to the Eater, at least.) All the resistances that she has accumulated over the centuries in the library and in herself (head, not stomach) surface here and plague her. She naturally protects and defends herself, withdraws, as if threatened, into the safety of her clothing: "she walks with her hands in her dress." What she fears, or seems to fear, perhaps understandably, is that the Eater will attack her as he has poetry. She represses her basest, and hence most necessary and alive, instincts: to let herself go and join the Eater-becoming-dog. The frustration she experiences is too much for her, and she begins to "stamp her feet and weep."
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

Eating Poetry | Academy of American Poets

day1: buy egg roll & spring roll wrappers at . pick , create poem layout in illustrator, photocopy poem, set up gocco, burn screen. make chocolate sauce from melted chocolate chips, test print on egg roll wrapper. the chocolate is much too thick, wash screen. test prints w/ hershey's chocolate syrup (3 different kinds!), but the syrup is too thin. the screen breaks apart under all that washing, so i burn a new screen. begin to wash screens much more carefully. test print w/ hershey's syrups most promising, but i think the type is too small. reset & adapt poem to configure for larger type, photocopy, burn new gocco screen. test print w/ hershey's syrup: words are forming, but i'm not thrilled. attempt to toast egg roll wrapper prior to printing & burn it. toast another egg roll wrapper. test print w/ a mix of chocolate syrup, cocoa powder & powered sugar. better print, but the toasted egg roll wrapper crumbles and gets all over the place. test another print on plain & toasted egg roll wrappers. test print on spring roll wrapper (blech!!). i care a lot that this is actually an edible book. take a short nap, clean up kitchen, fret. (end at 5 a.m.)

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry.

Eating Poetry - University of North Florida

Poem: Eating Poetry
Year: Published/Written in 1980
Last read: 2015-12-16 11:32:14
Poem of the Day on:

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Added on November 9th, 2015 at 3:58 PM.

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

Mark Strand - Eating Poetry; Ink runs from the corners of my mouth

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.

I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.