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The Philosophy of New Jersey
(for Jill)
Actually the sky appears older than it is. It’s 63 or 64 at most, not 75. The part with the
cliff face and the yellow crane could be in its early 30s. It wasn’t Wallace Stevens who
said, “They have cut off my head, and picked out all the letters of the alphabet—all the
vowels and consonants—and brought them out through my ears; and then they want
me to write poetry! I can’t do it!” It was John Clare. Wallace Stevens said—something
like—the best poems are the ones you meant to write. That has a nice sound to it, but
it’s hard to see how he or anyone would know that. It would be hard, for example, to
accept the notion that there are ideas one meant to have. Poems underneath
every peeling sycamore and inside every file cabinet, along with ideas about poetry
and uncountable other ideas.
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Charles North's recent Everything and Other Poems was a N.Y. Times New and Noteworthy Book, What It Is Like headed NPR's Best Poetry Books of 2011, and The Nearness of the Way You Look Tonight (2001) was a finalist for the inaugural Phi Beta Kappa Poetry Award. Other books include the innovative Complete Lineups and the essay collection States of the Art. With artist Trevor Winkfield North published the collaborations Elevenses and En Face, and with James Schuyler co-edited the poet/painter anthologies Broadway and Broadway2. ["The Philosophy of New Jersey," from The Nearness of the Way You Look Tonight (Adventures in Poetry), is used by permission; © 2001 Charles North.]
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William Hilton, Portrait of John Clare (1793–1864). Oil on canvas, 1820.
Well, I knew the name but not his words. Especially since he speaks of "The Garden State," I'm happy to be acquainted with his wisdom. Robert Pinsky and I feel it is a very good state for poetry.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri Flynn | May 01, 2022 at 12:00 PM
as usual, north's wit and insight make this piece seem both familiar and unique simultaneously
Posted by: lally | May 01, 2022 at 12:23 PM
Such wit! I love this poem.
Posted by: Elaine Equi | May 01, 2022 at 12:26 PM
Always a pleasure to read "true North." Wallace Stevens's statement ("Reality is not what it is. It consists of the many realities it can be made into") was paraphrased by, of all people, Ronald Reagan, whose affinity for Stevens paralleled Clinton's for "Leaves of Grass."
Posted by: David Lehman | May 01, 2022 at 01:05 PM
Wonderful, witty poem!
Posted by: Denise Duhamel | May 01, 2022 at 01:51 PM
Good one!
Posted by: Susan Francis Campbell | May 01, 2022 at 03:34 PM
Enjoyed the humor and wit.
Posted by: Eileen | May 01, 2022 at 05:08 PM
Fine fresh original poem! NOW I’m certain of New Jersey’s philosophy!
Posted by: Don Berger | May 01, 2022 at 06:04 PM
I'm searching for a poem underneath a peeling sycamore right now. But all I'm finding are last year's brown leaves.
Posted by: Geoffrey Himes | May 02, 2022 at 06:50 AM
Brilliant. Love it.
Posted by: Greg Masters | May 02, 2022 at 09:09 AM
Charles North, you’ve captured in your poem what I’ve known all along: poetry is every thing and every thing is poetry! Poetry is you and you are poetry!
Posted by: Jiwon Choi | May 02, 2022 at 06:05 PM
This clever and engaging prose poem, from beginning to end, corrects a series of mistaken notions. It suggests to me that a philosophy of New Jersey might also be that it is not the place it seems to be but is rather all that it could be if it did not have to be so close to New York.
Posted by: Peter Kearney | May 02, 2022 at 09:24 PM
What wit and charm!
Posted by: David Beaudouin | May 08, 2022 at 01:31 PM