Word: breaths
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...same kind of man, and each man destroyed her. She was like a little puppy dog. No matter how much you beat her she kept coming back, trusting the owner. Since I did the part, I've been feeling so much tension, such pressure." She drew a deep breath. "It's a definite signal. I'll work through the year because I've got commitments. Then I'll quit show business. At least for a year, maybe forever...
...Instead they have largely adopted the dicta laid down by Charles Olson, who presided over North Carolina's Black Mountain school from 1951-56. Meter was obsolete, and form along with it, Olson declared. Instead, the poem could be given an organic structure: "The line comes from the breath, from the breathing of the man who writes, at the moment he writes." This dictum resulted in a whole generation of poets breathily crouching over their typewriters, using the space bar heavily to stop or start a line as a catch in the lungs might dictate. On the page, poetry...
...current model for many younger poets is Robert Creeley, 45, a onetime colleague of Olson's at Black Mountain. Creeley writes poems of a haiku-like brevity, petering out on an exhausted breath, sometimes fixed in the senses by only the faintest suggestion of an image. One poem-on poetry-goes like this...
...difficult to walk. His legs were not used to it, and he was stricken by shortness of breath. His asthmatic breathing was heavy with the effort of this simple, unencumbered movement. The real test for the body comes when you lose authority over others, when your means of transport and protection are gone, when your general's epaulets, which once expressed the essence of your being, have been cast away, and your heart cannot keep pace. Your lungs can no longer take a full breath, as though they were more than half blocked. Your legs are unsteady. Your pace falters...
...first hot breath of summer is upon the land, and with it has come a perennially deepening dementia that turns otherwise lucid adults into drooling, lip-smacking lunatics, children into chocolate-mustachioed gluttons and family dogs into insatiable beggars. This year, more than ever before, they all scream for ice cream...