Ray Clark Dickson Bio-Vita

1.

I am a populist poet, perhaps too accessible. I believe the perfect poetry audience suffers fools well. I also believe in Bergson's concept of Duree, 'We carry with us all our experiences compacted in an ever-rolling snowball of our lives’.

In street poetry I find supple muscularity in Charles Bukowski; for off-street voices give me Czeslaw Milosz and Derek Walcott, particularly his book-length poem, Omeros.

I like to write narrative poetry, shirt-sleeved to formal.

Sometimes, like Guido Gimlet's horse, I go riding off in all directions at once.

I excuse myself, saying it's all in the name of diversity, not realizing it's poetry that opens one up.

One critic said I do blue-collar and white-collar poetry in the same laundry. I think our psyches have a choice of detergents.

A poet with a mind without borders travels freely - poetry is your visa -a passport to the imagination where art resides.

After a few pulp fiction novels I soon realized my style was more Dicksonian than Dickensian, began writing narrative poetry, short and long.

Poetry to me is passion, curiosity and compression - along with the old Greek's adage, "Production is the artist's form of virtue."  Dorothy Parker said, "Brevity is the soul of lingerie" - the poet's simple lesson in compression.

It took some time for me to realize that imagery, texture, form, as well as entrance (the importance of entrada I heard from Octavio Paz in Mexico City years ago) signification and revelatory endings didn't come from ice-cold vodka and tins of Beluga caviar - but from a personal voice formed by long experience, intellectual and creative energy. Also, following my credo day in and day out, "Production is the artist's form of virtue." The more one writes the better one gets. You become your own best editor, selecting-out and re-writing.

2.

I grew up reading poetry of the 'moderns', those who had veered off from prosody, or the metrical rhyming system. I've done a few rhymed ballads to keep ears tuned.

I try to fit my style to the conceptual realism enjoyed by art.

"Life is the examination, poetry the graduation." rcd "

Gregorian chants are like beads in a rapper's rosary." rcd

I agree with Valery who said, 'A poem is never finished, merely abandoned.' Therefore, poetry, I think, is work in progress.

As Isaac Isimnov said, and I concur, 'If my doctor told me I had only six months to live, I wouldn't brood, I'd type a little faster.'

Remember Chaucer's question, 'What things may this signify?'

A.R. Ammons said, 'Language is the medium that carries the inscription, but what is inscribed in poetry is action, not language."

Robert Frost said, and I agree, 'I was conservative in my youth in order to be anarchitic in my old age.'

I read the Anglo/Irishman W.B. Yeats for the singing line.

I learned from Pablo Neruda's 'Memorial de Isla Negro' - his autobiography in the form of a hundred poems. My poetry book 'Parlando' has 285 poems in 295 pages.

When you get my age sometimes you can't tell mentor from mentee. rcd

Be sure you have your beeper on when Mama Muse gives you a call. Rcd

 

 

 

3.

 

Poetry, for me, is a Homeric expedition into the unknown with words and stanzas spun

in spider's silk from the intellect to the heart. rcd

 

A day will come when your hunger for excellence of expression will parse your prose

to pure poetry.

 

Stay with your style. No one has lived your life but you. No one truly knows your

sensory accumulations, throb of your beat. Voice is uniquely your own; there is no

need to copy or emulate. Feed the flames of poetic desire by learning more about

the craft through reading, attending and presenting your work at poetry readings.

As a former jazz drummer I've found 'participial phrasing' is the music I hear between

line-endings.

 

The poetry audience is both endearing and enduring, a miraculous phenomenon

that enables the poet to master fear and continue their poetic mission.

 

As a former journalist (wrote everything from sports to obituaries) I was interested

in what G.K. Chesterton had to say about journalists: "Largely consists in saying,

LORD JONES IS DEAD to people who never knew Lord Jones was alive.

 

Form or join your own poetic community. T.S. Eliot said, 'What life have you

if you love not life together?  There is no life that is not in community.'

 

Like most poets I'd like to climb out of my octosyllabic short pants and write

some disturbing lines.

 

I believe it was in l952 when Jack Kerouac was in Mexico writing a third of Doctor

Sax, about 45,000 words in a month. His 242 choruses of Mexico City Blues

was stirring in him at this time (later C l959, Grove Press). I lived for a year in the jungle between Taxco and Cuernavaca writing pulp novels for a LA paperback house,

short fiction for the men's market and long narrative poems I found hard to market.

I seemed to write better about environments with a hard edge. Also, the exchange

was very strong between the peso and yankee dollar for writers and artists.

I found the Mexicans a very warm and proud people.

 

4.

 

One year I lived in a small Mexican village called Acuitlapan in the jungle between

Taxco and Cuernavaca. The villagers were friendly, proud and very hospitable.

On weekends I would hitch rides to Mexico City. I believe it was l952 (again in '57)

that I would visit expatriate writers & poets who gathered on Jack Kerouac's rooftop

on, I believe, Calle Arizaba. We vied for blue-collar bragging rights over cheap green

tequila. Jack said he had been a brakeman on the Southern Pacific, I said I punked

saws and loaded green lumber at the Brooks-Scanlon Lumber Co. in Bend, Oregon.

Everyone told of incredible jobs held to support writing habits. It reminds me today

of the most unusual position held by any poet I've ever heard about: Alan Dugin,

who won the Yale Younger Poet's Award, Pulitzer Prize, National Book Award, Prix de Rome and Shelley Memorial Award. Dugin said his most significant and satisfying work was making artificial vaginas for the Planned Parenthood Association (to demonstrate

proper diaphragm insertion). No mention of work ethics or overtime. This may be an indelicate observation - I can hear my old journalism professor at the University

of Oregon chiding me now, "Have you ever considered the efficacy of candor, sir?"

Yes, professor, we both know I've been one of your most troubling students. Far more

distressing than Ken Kesey ("One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest." I vaguely remember

a motivating counselor's, "Don't worry about a career, Ray, Mozart didn't write anything

important until he was nine years of age." I didn't realize at the time that poetry would

be my passport to the world.

 

5.

In the 40's and 50's I was influenced by John Berryman (Pulitzer Prize winner), 65';

Randall Jarrell, Delmore Schwartz (l9l3-l966) and Robert Lowell. Sadly, my mentors,

one by one succumbed to the poets' occupational hazards, and until this day I

remember the February of l972 and John Berryman's suicide. I had read his "Mistress

Bradstreet" and the "Dream Songs"; Randall Jarrell's "The Lost World" and his elegant,

mercurial "The Changing Light."; Robert Lowell's "Day By Day" and Delmore Schwartz's

"Summer Knowledge". I think it was Browning who wrote, "We poets in our youth/

begin in gladness/ but hereof comes/ in the end/ despondency and madness."

 

Another favorite of the time - Dylan Thomas visiting America - dying of alcoholism in l953 - his wife, Caitlin Thomas explaining "that Dylan was never too keen on life."

 

I read a lot of James Wright and Kenneth Rexroth in the famed old Unicorn Press

of the 60's and 70's. I remember Osip Mandelstam saying, 'Poetry has not slept

here if the sheets aren't wrinkled.' Also, Diane Wakoski, 'Poetry may not make you

a living, but it could be your life.' Poetry IS my life. I re-read Octavio Paz (heard him

live in Mexico City), Pablo Neruda, William Carlos Williams (grateful to The Beloit Poetry Journal for appearing with WCM, Philip Levine, Anne Sexton, Gwendolyn Brooks, Adrienne Rich and Langston Hughes in Beloit's "A FINE EXCESS: Fifty Years Of The Beloit Poetry Journal I had 22 poems published there in last l5 years. Hughes's translation of Federico Garcia Lorca's "Gypsy Ballads" are available here for the first time. My two poems were selected from l,200 poems published since l950 - l53 of us are in the book. Incidentally, William Carlos William's masterpiece, "Paterson", was inspired by the cantos of Pound.

 

I read and admired Derek Walcott (l992 Nobel Laureate - "The Odyssey" and "The Antilles"- remembered one vivid line, "A moon so bright you could read palms by it."

innumerable influences - Robert Frost's New Hampshire experience, Wallace Stephen's

"Sunday Morning"; T.S. Eliot's "The Cocktail Party" and "Ash Wednesday" (it was Pound

who advised Eliot to cut "The Wasteland" in half and he might get it published. He did,

and it worked, both aesthetically and historically). Charles Olson, Duncan and Creeley

on Black Mountain - tone, cadence, metaphorical voices - Theodore Roethke's "Collected

Poems" - one in particular, "Heard In A Violent Ward" - all kinds of influences from

Billie Holiday to John Coltrane's tenor sax - and most of all to Mother Muse who makes

you dig out those psychographic words that burn in the dark. Rcd

 

6.

I re-read Charles Olson's The Maximus Poems for symbols of expression, the importance of breathing spaces between words, stanzas, line-endings.

 

Most older poets see things from a distance - revealing self - soft, moody, tough, brittle, enduring - I like to take whatever, whenever Mother Muse is in the mood to give me.

 

Remember Ralph Ellison, 'I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse

to see me.'

 

Remember Pablo Neruda's words (Il Postino, "The Postman): 'Poetry doesn't belong to those who wrote it, but to those who need it.' That's why poetry deserves a wider audience than family and friends - you have to send it out - stand up to rejections that every serious poet receives - rejoice in acceptances - think also that your poetry is a bouquet of self, flowers to be given away.

 

I recently wrote a poem on Ernest Hemingway's l00th Anniversary. I'm indebted to Hem for two disciplines, (I) characterization, and (2) story action. He asks the question in "Death In The Afternoon", 'What creates the emotions of the experience?'

 

"A musician is to an acoustician as a poet is to prose." rcd

 

I think there should be at least one poet for every thousand plumbers unless the loo overflows, then, never, ever, call a poet.

 

Words, phrases, stanzas are cogs in cognition's railway to the stars. rcd

 

Tonight, with you, a warm audience, I feel like Henry Kissinger (who seems to be appearing again) - his voice down deep in the guttural gazebo of his larynx "I have never - been so honored - as the last time - I dined alone - in the Palace of Mirrors - "

 

7.

 

Robert Frost said, "Write a poem that breathes with its own breath." He suggests, to me, a strong body of work, original voice, tone, rhythm, powerful language, truth of real emotions, learned experience, find the right active verb that opens the door to the poem inside, awaken each utterance with passion and control. Read contemporaries and the masters - read, read, read - watch for dead and empty language - choose particular

words you like from what you read (words only, do not take the author's lines or meanings) - develop your own dictionary true to your voice and style -some major poets have hundreds of thousands of 'personal' words that excite or pique interest and ennobles the text. Be a 'tekkie/pro/ when it comes to the essentials - study markets, samples of accepted poetry, present immaculate work, proofed and aesthetically appealing, short modest cover letter if required (let your work speak for itself), track submissions, acceptances, rejections. Remember the old Greek's advice: "Production is the artist's form of virtue." You are a poet. The world needs you. Be disciplined, true to yourself.

 

Duke Ellington said, "To write, all you have to have is physical isolation - and whatever

is in you bubbles out of you." I'm fortunate, I guess. I can write in a phone booth.

 

I believe in the consonants of art and life - enjoying oneself, the luxury of irony, detachment, learning when to break loose, turn yourself in, pay homage to the particularities of personhood, as all poetry resides in the kingdom within.

 

I must be unafraid to step down on my punches, search for a rarified poetry with strength and dexterity, a fresh suppleness, clarity, combing of language. If we only knew how good we could be there would be no more feeble or colorless poetry.

 

Between poetry I write aphorisms, observation and anecdotage. Sometimes these written words mock me - cold as a saltwater shower. I warm up the day with a warm-up in verbal alliteration - something antic - say - something like this (because I live in a college town) . . .let's call it A WARNING TO BUDDING BAUDELAIRES - The bell bonged/ by bats/ in the belfry/ are the same bats/ that binge/ by the bong/ in the pantry.

 

I understand that great yogis believe there is no end to life - just to be

on the safe side I'm going to enjoy this one to the fullest.

Bio

Ray Clark Dickson was born in Portland, Oregon, l9l9; graduate of the University Of Oregon, Journalism, l942. Seven books of poetry, five pulp fiction novels, anthologized, books out of print found on Amazon.com, Google searches. Hundreds of poems in journals ranging from The Beloit Poetry Journal (22 since l989) to the Wormwood Revue (with Charles Bukowski) and the Saturday Evening Post. Ray is included in Beloit's recent anthology (2000) 'A FINE EXCESS: Fifty Years Of The Beloit Poetry Journal in the company of his inspirational mentors, William Carlos Williams, Galway Kinnell, Gwendolyn Brooks, Anne Sexton and other major poets published in Beloit during the last fifty years.

Ray's last poetry book, 'Parlando', a 285-poem retrospective is closing out a highly successful first printing, Kerouac Connection Press, 2000, distributed by Blackwell's in Edinburgh and the U.K.

Ray's publisher, Mitchell Smith, employed at Stanford and publisher of the U.K. Press said in the Kerouac Connection Journal #30: "Ray Clark Dickson consistently amazed me. The clarity, power and breadth of his poetry is something one rarely finds these days. He may be the last undiscovered major voice in America for the 20th century."

D.G. Wills (D.G. Wills Books, La Jolla) said, "RCD is the father of new west coast poetry - sings like Blake, burns like Bukowski. He does blue-collar and white-collar in the same laundry."

Arthur Knight, poet/novelist, chronicler of Kerouac said, "Parlando, what a beautiful book. I don't think anyone since Malcom Lowery knows what it means to be a gringo in Mexico as well as Dickson."

Mike Barney, in a revue for Michigan's Gravity Presses said, "Reading Dickson is like reading some lost and recently found manuscript of Kerouac's poems, if Kerouac had been a better poet and had been smart and strong enough not to sozzle himself to death."

Marion K. Stocking, editor of The Beloit Poetry Journal said, "HOORAY for Ray Clark Dickson: for his whole orchestra of musical instruments, for his whole aboretum of brilliant colors, for his lively 5+5 senses, plus his uncommon sense of the range of human exper- ience."

Ray's poem, 'Prescription For A Poet's Life' appeared in the February 2004 issue of 'ArtLife' (Vol 24, No.2, Issue No. 256) the world's oldest continuing Art Journal, with Philip Levine, B.H. Fairchild, Edward Field, Dorienne Laux and other pre-eminent American poets.

Ray has over fifty poems published in 'ArtLife', the original limited edition arts journal archived at the New York Library, Yale University/Art & Architecture Library; Museum Of Modern Art Library; Sterling Memorial Library, Yale University; Detroit Institute Of Art; Getty Trust/ Research Department; Periodical Library of Fogg Arts Museum, Fine Arts Library, Harvard University.

Ray was selected First Poet Laureate of San Luis Obispo. city and county, l998, and nominated by the S.L.O. County Arts Council for state poet laureate in 2002.

Ray says "I found this page in my debris I think is important: Mandrake Poetry Review, Vol II, number 2, Gliwice, Poland. I'm on the same page as Nobel Laureates Czeslaw Milosz and Wislawa Szymborska. Milosz's poem, "In My Native Parts" and Szymborska's poem, "In Praise of Self-Depreciation." My two poems were 'Storm Trysail" and "The Navigator" . I'm proud to be mentioned and seen in the same brushstroke with these giants of poetry, of course."

"I've been asked to write a 20th Anniversary Poem by the San Luis Obispo Symphony - Michael Nowak's 20th as conductor with the SLO Symphony - they want me to read it at their May 5th performances at Cal Poly - I understand they have up around 2,000 in audience - I get en tremblante up to my elbows thinking about it . . .btw/2 - Mandrake Poetry Review/ winter l996-l007."