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    Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman
    Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman
    Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman
    Ebook147 pages1 hour

    Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman

    By Laurence Hutchman

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    "Laurence Hutchman's poetry is a witness to the world around him, to the patterns of families, nations, and landscape. He hears Mozart in the supermarket, and Nelligan breaking into song. While there's a refreshingly outward-looking documentary zeal in his poetry, transformations abound: a typewriter becomes a 'silent temple,' a baseball glove a 'leather flower,' a forest a 'way of going into myself.' With this selection from his previous books, it's clearer than ever how Hutchman's mix of curiosity-driven realism and metaphorical surprise gives his poetry generosity and scope" - Brian Bartlett. {Guernica Editions}
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGuernica
    Release dateJan 1, 2006
    ISBN9781550714623
    Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman
    Author

    Laurence Hutchman

    Laurence Hutchman teaches at the Université de Moncton, Edmundston Campus, in New Brunswick, Canada. Author of six books of poetry: The Twilight Kingdom (1973), Explorations (1975), Blue Riders (1985), Foreign National (1994), Emery (1998), and Beyond Borders (2000), he has also co-edited with Anne Compton, Ross Leckie, and Robin McGrath, Coastlines: the Poetry of Atlantic Canada. His book Emery received an honourable mention for the Alfred G. Bailey Award in 1995. From 2000-02 he served as President of the Writers' Federation of New Brunswick. He is the father of two children and lives in Edmundston with his wife, Mary.

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      Book preview

      Selected Poems - Laurence Hutchman - Laurence Hutchman

      LAURENCE HUTCHMAN

      SELECTED POEMS

       ESSENTIAL POETS SERIES 144

      GUERNICA

      Toronto – Buffalo – Lancaster (U.K.)

      2007  

      Contents

      EXPLORATIONS (1975)

      Lifeguard

      Perseus

      The Hockey Game

      The Boxer

      The Chinese ManMozart in the Supermarket

      Explorations

      Pictures from an Exhibition

      BLUE RIDERS (1985)

      Music in the Snow

      You Should Always Carry a Pen

      Josie of Flowerstreet

      Pinballs

      The Cabinet Maker

      Two Oranges

      Balcony

      The Mountain3

      Nelligan

      Blue Rider

      FOREIGN NATIONAL (1993)

      Dream of Origins

      Lost Language

      Opa

      Elegy for Sarah

      Woman in the Well

      Roots Among the Rocks

      Child’s History of Stamps

      Kaleidoscope

      The Fathers

      The Lost Glove

      Piano Lessons

      Milkweed

      Relics

      Burnt Island Lake

      Spoon

      Stripping

      Night Vision

      Ultrasound

      Hippocrates in the Pharmacy

      The Glass Blower

      The Shape of the Earth

      The Cup

      Silence

      Mountain Walk

      Snow

      Midnight

      EMERY (1998)

      The Pump

      Chestnuts

      Albion Bridge

      Grandmothers

      Icebreakers

      Italian Gardens

      The Mythologies of Miss Marsden

      French Dictation

      The Day Orrie Trueman Climbed the Emery

      Schoolhouse Tower

      Searching for the Log Cabin of Elizabeth Arden

      On the Way to Lindsay

      BEYOND BORDERS (2000)

      Passing through Customs

      Driving to Fort Kent in a Mid-Spring Snowfall

      Poems at Hoagies

      Demolition of the Edmundston Regional Hospital

      The Garden in the Rock

      La Roche du Calvaire

      Lac Temiscouata

      Gardening

      The Woman in the Picture

      La Dentellière

      Your Face

      The Forest is Not a Forest

      Riding the SMT Down the Appalachian Route

            on a Late October Afternoon

      Shortcut Through the Renous

      La Fenêtre

      Tear Off Your Yellow Star

      Geel War Cemetery, Belgium

      FOR MARY

      EXPLORATIONS

      Lifeguard

      The bricks have never been so red.

      The sky is blue as it was in the beginning

      – a clear pastel eternity.

      The clouds are fantastic swirls, feelings;

      the brilliant grass glimmers through the fence;

      and I must watch this lonely swimmer,

      ten years old and struggling in the shallow water.

      Look, I can almost touch bottom.

      "Go away, I want to be with Rilke.

      Go away and leave me alone with the sky."

      He is panting, gurgling, laughing, asking questions,

      then breaks the surface with a frightened stare.

      There the clouds, fence, trees and red bricks.

      Go away I want to be with Rilke.

      I look at him in the water.

      I am looking at Rilke.

      Perseus

      The stain on the ceiling

      assumes tremendous energy.

      Perseus on a white steed

      glides over dim Attic coasts,

      light on the Dorian pillars.

      Down from the pines of Pelion

      the mane of Pegasus flows against the stars,

      a golden outline of energy.

      Riding through the fears of night

      into the white storm of violence,

      the rider’s large sword is burnished

      against the white flanks and silver moon.

      Hooves move silently on the glowing air;

      the high shoulders, sleek tense arms

      will slay the dragon soon.

      Perseus rides off the ceiling,

      but the old lady who lived here before

      saw the shape of the stain

      as the incarnate fear of her dead husband.

      The Hockey Game

      Before the face-off

      of the Toronto-Montreal game

      he begins talking,

      – Yes, I have been here a few years.

      You know I am Polish . . . After the war

      I spent five years in Siberia.

      – It was below zero in winter.

      We had to cut wood in the daytime.

      At night we slept in tents.

      – I was strong then;

      now I feel the pain in my shoulders.

      When you are young it doesn’t ...

      – Because I told the truth,

      some normal thing in conversation,

      I was taken away.

      Ice shines brightly on his glasses;

      players flash across his vision

      through red circles and blue lines.

      – I am an optometrist, now.

      He smiles, cheers.

      For good hockey,

      a good game.

      The Boxer

      We leave the Miramichi Hotel

      walk through Newcastle’s town square

      past Lord Beaverbrook’s smug bust,

      his gazebo, his Italian sundial.

      In the harbour a warship is docked.

      Outside of town we hike,

      a yellow car stops,

      the driver shakes our hands,

      introduces himself as Yvon,

      says that he used to box . ..

      Remember him well,

      when my father and I watched the Friday fights:

      that one night when he fought Archie Moore

      for the world championship

      and knocked him down again and again

      and still lost.

      "I fought all over the world:

      England, South Africa, Russia.

      It’s a racket . . . yes, I retired in 1960.

      I owed the government 45,000 dollars.

      Paid them off last year."

      "The best fight . . . I fought a South African–

      lost three teeth, had my nose broken

      and my chest busted."

      He rubs my fingers over his broken ribs.

      "I won that fight, knocked him out in the eighth.

      Don’t know how I survived."

      In these green hills of New Brunswick

      where there is a church on every corner

      and Beaverbrook is sanctified on the menu,

      we find a strange kindness in this fighter.

      The Chinese Man

      In the afternoon

      the old Chinese man

      kneels in a garden.

      The sunlight flickers,

      a golden tapestry on

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