SCARRIET POETRY HOT ONE HUNDRED!

Image result for poet with a mask

AMANDA GORMAN is an “American poet and activist,” according to Wikipedia.
CATE MARVIN “THE REPUBLICAN PARTY IS EVIL. Straight up evil. It’s just beyond.” –Facebook
3 LOUISE GLUCK 2020 Nobel Prize for Literature
4 JOY HARJO In her third term as Poet Laureate.
5 DON MEE CHOI DMZ Colony, Wave Books, wins 2020 National Book Award.
6 JERICHO BROWN The Tradition, Copper Canyon Press, wins 2020 Pulitzer Prize
NOOR HINDI Poem “Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying” in Dec 2020 Poetry.
8 NAOMI SHIHAB NYE Her poem “kindness” read online by Emma Thompson has 2.3 million Instagram views
9 WAYNE MILLER “When Talking About Poetry Online Goes Very Wrong” 2/8/21 essay in Lithub.
10 WILLIAM LOGAN “she speaks in the voice of a documentary narrator, approaching scenes in a hazmat suit.”
11 VICTORIA CHANG Obit Copper Canyon Press, longlist for 2020 National Book Award; also, in BAP.
12 ALAN CORDLE founder of Foetry, “most despised..most feared man in American poetry” —LA Times 2005
13 RUPI KAUR Has sold 3 million books
14 DON SHARE Resigned as Poetry editor August of 2020.
15 MARY RUEFLE Dunce, Wave Books, finalist for 2020 Pulitzer Prize
16 ANTHONY CODY Borderland Apocrypha, longlist for 2020 National Book Award
17 LILLIAN-YVONNE BERTRAM Travesty Generator, longlist for 2020 National Book Award
18 EDUARDO C. CORRAL Guillotine, longlist for 2020 National Book Award
19 PAISLEY REKDAL Poet Laureate of Utah, Guest editor for the 2020 Best American Poetry
20 DORIANNE LAUX Only As the Day is Long: New and Selected Poems, Norton, finalist for 2020 Pulitzer Prize
21 DANEZ SMITH Latest book of poems, Homie, published in 2020.
22 ILYA KAMINSKY LA Times Book Prize in 2020 for Deaf Republic.
23 RON SILLIMAN in Jan. 2021 Poetry “It merely needs to brush against the hem of your gown.”
24 FORREST GANDER Be With, New Directions, winner of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize
25 RITA DOVE Her Penguin Twentieth-Century of American Poetry Anthology is 10 years old. Collected Poems, 2016.
26 NATALIE DIAZ Postcolonial Love Poem, longlist for 2020 National Book Award
27 TERRANCE HAYES “I love how your blackness leaves them in the dark.”
28 TIMOTHY DONNELLY The Problem of the Many, Wave Books, 2019
29 REGINALD DWAYNE BETTS In 2020 BAP
30 FRANK BIDART Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016 (FSG) winner, 2018 Pulitzer
31 OCEAN VUONG “this is how we loved: a knife on the tongue turning into a tongue”
32 MATTHEW ZAPRUDER Disputed Ocean Vuong’s Instagram reflections on metaphor.
33 SHARON OLDS Stag’s Leap won 2013 Pulitzer; she’s in 2020 BAP
34 HONOREE FANONNE JEFFERS The Age of Phillis, longlist for 2020 National Book Award.
35 CLAUDIA RANKINE Citizen came out in 2014.
36 HENRI COLE Blizzard, FSG, is his tenth book of poems.
37 TRACY K. SMITH In the New Yorker 10/5
38 DIANE SEUSS In the New Yorker 9/14
39 SUSHMITA GUPTA “She missed her room, her pillow, her side of the bed, her tiny bedside lamp.”
40 ANNE CARSON has translated Sappho and Euripides.
41 AL FILREIS Leads “Poem Talk” with guests on Poetry’s website
42 MARY ANGELA DOUGLAS “the larks cry out and not with music”
43 STEPHEN COLE “…the everlasting living and the longtime dead feast on the same severed, talking head.”
44 MARILYN CHIN Her New and Selected was published in 2018 (Norton).
45 KEVIN GALLAGHER Editor, poet, economist, historian has re-discovered the poet John Boyle O’Reilly.
46 DAVID LEHMAN Series Editor for Best American Poetry—founded in 1988.
47 JIM BEHRLE A thorn in the side of BAP.
48 ROBIN RICHARDSON The Canadian poet wrote recently, “I have removed myself completely from Canadian literature.”
49 PAOLA FERRANTE New editor of Minola Reivew.
50 A.E. STALLINGS Like, FSG, finalist for 2019 Pulitzer
51 TAYLOR JOHNSON Poetry Blog: “felt presence of the black crowd as we study our amongness together.”
52 PATRICA SMITH Incendiary Art, TriQuarterly/Northwestern U, finalist for 2018 Pulitzer
53 TYLER MILLS in Jan. 2021 Poetry “Gatsby is not drinking a gin rickey. Dracula not puncturing a vein.”
54 SEUNGJA CHOI in Jan. 2021 Poetry “Dog autumn attacks. Syphilis autumn.”
55 ATTICUS “It was her chaos that made her beautiful.”
56 JAMES LONGENBACH Essay in Jan. 2021 Poetry, wonders: would Galileo have been jailed were his claims in verse?
57 DAN SOCIU Hit 3 home runs for the Paris Goths in Scarriet’s 2020 World Baseball League.
58 PHILIP NIKOLAYEV Editor of Fulcrum and “14 International Younger Poets” issue from Art and Letters.
59 SUSMIT PANDA “Time walked barefoot; the clock gave it heels.”
60 BRIAN RIHLMANN Poet of working-class honesty.
61 TYREE DAYE in the New Yorker 1/18/21
62 JANE WONG in Dec. 2020 Poetry “My grandmother said it was going to be long—“
63 ALAN SHAPIRO Reel to Reel, University of Chicago Press, finalist for 2015 Pulitzer
64 PIPPA LITTLE in Dec. 2020 Poetry “I knew the names of stones at the river mouth”
65 PATRICK STEWART Read Shakespeare’s Sonnets online to millions of views.
66 STEVEN CRAMER sixth book of poems, Listen, published in 2020.
67 HIEU MINH NGUYEN In 2020 BAP
68 BEN MAZER New book on Harry Crosby. New book of poems. Unearthing poems by Delmore Schwartz for FSG.
69 KEVIN YOUNG Poetry editor of the New Yorker
70 BILLY COLLINS Poet Laureate of the U.S. 2001 to 2003
71 ARIANA REINES In 2020 BAP
72 VALERIE MACON fired as North Carolina poet laureate—when it was found she lacked publishing credentials.
73 ANDERS CARLSON-WEE Nation magazine published, then apologized, for his poem, “How-To,” in 2018.
74 DANA GIOIA 99 Poems: New and Selected published in 2016. His famous Can Poetry Matter? came out in 1992.
75 YUSEF KOMUNYAKAA In 2020 BAP
76 MARJORIE PERLOFF published Edge of Irony: Modernism in the Shadow of the Habsburg Empire in 2016.
77 HELEN VENDLER her The Ocean, the Bird, and the Scholar: Essays on Poets and Poetry came out in 2015.
78 MEI-MEI BERSSENBRUGGE A Treatise On Stars, longlist for 2020 National Book Award—her 13th book.
79 GEORGE BILGERE  Belongs to the Billy Collins school. Lives in Cleveland.
80 CAROLYN FORCHE 2020 saw the publication of her book In the Lateness of the World: Poems from Penguin.
81 BOB DYLAN “Shall I leave them by your gate? Or sad-eyed lady, should I wait?”
82 RICHARD HOWARD  has translated Baudelaire, de Beauvoir, Breton, Foucault, Camus and Gide.
83 GLYN MAXWELL The playwright/poet’s mother acted in the original Under Milk Wood on Broadway in 1956.
84 KAVEH AKBAR published in Best New Poets
85 D.A. POWELL The poet has received a Paul Engle Fellowship.
86 JOHN YAU In 2020 BAP
87 DAIPAYAN NAIR “Hold me tight. Bones are my immortality…”
88 ANDREEA IULIA SCRIDON in 14 International Younger Poets from Art and Letters.
89 LORI GOMEZ Sassy and sensual internet poet—Romantic who uses F-bombs.
90 JORIE GRAHAM In 2020 BAP
91 SIMON ARMITAGE In the New Yorker 9/28
92 TOMMYE BLOUNT Fantasia for the Man in Blue, longlist for 2020 National Book Award.
93 TYLER KNOTT GREGSON on Twitter: “let us sign/our names/ in the/emptiness”
94 STEPHANIE BURT Close Calls With Nonsense: Reading New Poetry published in 2009
95 WILLIE LEE KINARD III in Jan. 2021 Poetry “The lesbians that lived in the apartment to the left…”
96 MICHAEL DICKMAN His poem about his grandmother in 2020 July/August Poetry was controversial.
97 FATIMAH ASGHAR published in Best New Poets
98 RICK BAROT The Galleons, Milkweed Editions, on longlist for 2020 National Book Award and excerpted in BAP 2020
99 DERRICK MICHAEL HUDSON had his 15 minutes of fame in Best American Poetry 2015.
100 JEAN VALENTINE (d. 12/30/20) in New Yorker 1/18/21

18 Comments

  1. noochness said,

    February 15, 2021 at 8:26 pm

    7. Noor Hindi

    Fuck Your Lecture on Craft, My People Are Dying

    Colonizers write about flowers.
    I tell you about children throwing rocks at Israeli tanks
    seconds before becoming daisies.
    I want to be like those poets who care about the moon.
    Palestinians don’t see the moon from jail cells and prisons.
    It’s so beautiful, the moon.
    They’re so beautiful, the flowers.
    I pick flowers for my dead father when I’m sad.
    He watches Al Jazeera all day.
    I wish Jessica would stop texting me Happy Ramadan.
    I know I’m American because when I walk into a room something dies.
    Metaphors about death are for poets who think ghosts care about sound.
    When I die, I promise to haunt you forever.
    One day, I’ll write about the flowers like we own them.

    • Cosmic said,

      September 28, 2021 at 9:37 pm

      wow, this poem sucks so much.

  2. noochness said,

    February 15, 2021 at 8:44 pm

    87. DAIPAYAN NAIR
    “Hold me tight. Bones are my immortality…”

    Johnny Nash would agree!

  3. noochinator said,

    February 16, 2021 at 7:49 am

    23. Ron Silliman

    Shelter in Place

    Putting the pox
    in apocalypse
    the pudding in the skull
    has a lemony taste
    just a little
    until you push through
    to the richer
    almost bitter
    sweetness at the center

    Yum is a corporate brand
    encompassing multiple
    fast-food franchise chains
    he marched his co-workers
    out of the restaurant
    & into the woods
    where he shot them

    The angel of death
    ambles in
    from the memory gardens
    It merely needs
    to brush against
    the hem of your gown

    Goya’s peasants
    against the wall
    don’t look away

    When help burst in
    all armored up
    they found a naked woman
    alone in the shower
    but couldn’t make out
    her mumbled song

    When this you see
    D E F
    geometry rising
    to the surface
    of a hypothetical world
    in a 13-dimensional space
    circulating an absence
    where some sun should be

    What time is it
    in Zaragoza
    by the old Roman wall
    Modernism lurks
    looking as dated
    as the gravel garden
    at the Soviet block apartments

    She waits at the corner
    for the bus to the campus
    when the mayor’s son
    pulls up in his car
    to offer her a ride
    from which she is never seen again

    The first to commit suicide
    is the class valedictorian
    They rain from the bridge
    like a festival of ornaments
    like the couple holding hands
    out of the south tower

    No one remembers Ishi
    in the Berkeley hills
    or LoneCat Fuller’s
    musical contraption

    Holy Hubert shouting
    from a text in which
    all of the words
    have been erased

  4. noochinator said,

    February 16, 2021 at 8:04 am

    96. Michael Dickman

    Link goes to poem “Scholls Ferry Road”

    https://drive.google.com/file/d/1F7TgAqtbYkOEwytx6mv44gHL6_VjsmMx/view

    The controversy analyzed:

  5. thomasbrady said,

    February 16, 2021 at 5:08 pm

    Here’s the full FB post of #2 above:

    As if. Do you know how many times a day I RESTRAIN myself from saying anything about how much Republicans disgust me? It’s not a rhetorical question. MANY, MANY times, every single day. As if I could EVER respect anyone who identifies as Republican. *WHO DOES THAT?* THE REPUBLICAN PARTY IS EVIL. Straight up evil. It’s just beyond.

    Posted 2/12/21

    The responses to it were generally “I feel exactly the same way”

    Hot has many meanings.

    Whether you agree, or not, is not the point.

    The poetry zeitgeist would not be complete without such an entry.

    —Scarriet editors

    • Cosmic said,

      September 28, 2021 at 9:39 pm

      why #2 though?

      • thomasbrady said,

        September 30, 2021 at 8:04 pm

        I think this sentiment is an important part of the zeitgeist when it comes to literature, whether we approve of it, or not.

  6. noochinator said,

    February 16, 2021 at 5:28 pm

    61. Tyree Daye

    What the Angels Eat

    https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2021/01/18/what-the-angels-eat

  7. noochinator said,

    February 19, 2021 at 7:24 am

    Scarriet’s mission reminds me of “The Engineer’s Creed”:

    Little by little, we subtract
    Faith and fallacy from fact,
    The illusory from the true,
    And starve upon the residue.

    • thomasbrady said,

      February 19, 2021 at 5:57 pm

      We have a mission??

  8. maryangeladouglas said,

    February 20, 2021 at 8:24 pm

    They can all keep past doomsday their clanking over credentialed Marley like chains;Valerie Macon soared over the flock of them. In her own decision to resign to avoid having her wings clipped by a bunch of squabbling nitpickers, envious because they weren’t consulted by the Governor about this appointment, oh horrors.

    I love Valerie’s poetry and her integrity and sweetness as a human being. Maybe they can uncredential the dead poets society poets who thankfully didnt have to consult any of them to write poetry. Or as to what place in line they should be assigned among the poetry glitterati. Sad chapter in North Carolina Poetry history and a national embarassment all of that. In my opinion. Strangely resembling in some ways the trial of Joseph Brodsky in the former USSR when mocked for HIS credentials. He replied: I thought that was something decided by God…(the calling to be a poet)..

    A recent poem…

    THE SONG WITH RUBIES SET

    find thee a boat with a silver oar

    the emerald light on the morning floor

    swift passage through a secret door

    find thee a boat

    find thee a ribband rose wrapped round

    all the towers of the town

    deep in the sky yet near at hand

    find thee a ring with an azure band

    find thee a rose

    find thee the close to the book this time

    written in rose gold faery rhyme

    find thee a way to catch the sun

    far from the den of winter, come

    shine in the boat and learn to sing

    departing earth with a ruby sheen

    find thee the key to everything

    far from the shadow of all lost dreams

    find thee the castle then the King

    who can absolve from everything

    the heart that fluttered and drew lost breath

    and then soared over the rim of death.

    mary angela douglas 17 february 2021

    • thomasbrady said,

      February 24, 2021 at 6:34 pm

      “find thee a boat with a silver oar
      the emerald light on the morning floor”

      Wow. Beautiful poem.

      • maryangeladouglas said,

        February 25, 2021 at 5:32 am

        Thank you so much, Thomas Graves. You are very kind.

  9. noochinator said,

    February 24, 2021 at 8:16 am

    11. Victoria Chang

    Review of her Obit :
    https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2021/01/08/obit-j08.html

    and this from the review’s comments section:

    as seems to the case these many decades, the review is far, far more ‘saisissant’, engaging and perceptive than the bloodless – boo-hoo poetry — i consider the author’s critique to be prose/poetry and very well-done — many thanks !

  10. noochness said,

    February 27, 2021 at 12:12 pm

    100. Jean Valentine

    The Cricket

    In this little borrowed
    wooden house in January,

    down on the field-colored rug
    I came across a cricket
    close to death, or sleeping.
    Not breathing, that I could see.

    Out walking, I saw a skull of snow,
    and a snow-frog listening.
    ………………………………Back in the house,
    my cricket, your heart has stopped.
    Would you like snow over you?
    Or be in here together, by the hearth.

    But now your body is fallen in pieces around you.
    Help me find a leaf for you to lie on, another
    to cover you.

    —Jean Valentine (1934-2020)

    https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2021/01/18/the-cricket

  11. noochness said,

    March 4, 2021 at 7:13 pm

    31. Ocean Vuong

    Home Wrecker

    And this is how we danced: our mothers’
    white dresses spilling from our feet, late August

    turning our hands dark red. And this is how we loved:
    a fifth of vodka and an afternoon in the attic, your fingers

    sweeping through my hair—my hair a wildfire.
    We covered our ears and your father’s tantrum turned

    to heartbeats. When our lips touched the day closed
    into a coffin. In the museum of the heart

    there are two headless people building a burning house.
    There was always the shotgun above

    the fireplace. Always another hour to kill—only
    to beg some god to return the seconds. If not the attic,

    the car. If not the car, the dream. If not the boy, his clothes.
    If not alive, put down the phone. Because the year

    is a distance we’ve traveled in circles. Which is to say:
    this is how we danced: alone in sleeping bodies.

    Which is to say: this is how we loved: a knife on the tongue
    turning into a tongue.

    First published in Linebreak, August 2012

    https://poetshouse.org/profile/ocean-vuong/

    • Pop Leibel said,

      March 6, 2021 at 4:39 am

      Love this poem. Who is this guy?


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