I am in Iowa City, Iowa where tonight I will read poems from my new book at Prairie Lights Books, one of the nation’s premier independent bookstores. I am hereby announcing that my brief reading is dedicated to “Luigi” who is pictured below
I am in Iowa City, Iowa where tonight I will read poems from my new book at Prairie Lights Books, one of the nation's premier independent bookstores. I am hereby announcing that my brief reading is dedicated to "Luigi" who is pictured below. For my blind readers Luigi is a thoroughbred "off the track" former race horse who entered our lives when my wife and I moved to Syracuse a year and a half ago. My wife rides Luigi and I feed him apples. Why dedicate a poetry reading to a horse? Because he has soul, he's a talker, and he has the kindest eyes of any animal I know. Sounds like poetry to me. And here is James Wright's amazing poem "A Blessing" because its one of the best poems I know:
"A Blessing"
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
Stephen Kuusisto Reads from Letters to Borges, His New Book of Poems
JUST RELEASED! Best-selling memoirist Stephen Kuusisto uses the themes of travel, place, religion, music, art, and loneliness to explore the relationship between seeing, blindness, and being. In poems addressed to Jorge Luis Borges—another poet who lived with blindness—Kuusisto leverages seeing as negative capability, creating intimacy with deep imagination and uncommon perceptions.
If you enjoyed this reading and would like to listen to several more poems from Letters to Borges, it’s easy enough to arrange. This FREE recording is yours to enjoy at your leisure, preferably from your favorite cozy chair with a cup of coffee or a nice glass of wine in hand. Simply fill in the “Join me for a cozy ‘fireside’ poetry reading…” form found to the right of this blog post or make your request below.
REVIEWS:
Seth Abramson, Poet
Kuusisto’s is a life one wants to know, detailed sparingly by a man one wants to know, inscribed in a generic form one finds oneself not merely compelled but honored to read. Letters to Borges is highly recommended for those who still find honor and beauty in both simplicity and–can it be?–actually having something to say. Read more of Seth Abramson’s reviewfrom the Huffington Post, Huff Post Books, November 2012
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If we account for Kuusisto’s restricted sight, the brilliance of his verse acquires deeper resonance, for his work imagines a realm between sight and sound composed of the sensory stimuli we all know and recognize, but split, fractured, and juxtaposed to inhabit the mind’s ear of his readers, a feat unique to this truly gifted poet. — Diego Báez, Booklist Advanced Review
Any writer/artist lucky enough to stay at The MacDowell Colony is indeed very lucky. Here, Steve Kuusisto and his guide dog, Nira, can do their best thinking. Nira’s job is to provide inspiration as Steve works on his next book, tentatively titled “What a Dog Can Do”.
Steve Kuusisto and guide dog, Nira
Photo and post submitted by @ConnieKuusisto: Steve, in red sweater, is sitting in a Stickley chair in front of the fireplace in the cabin he’s staying in. His yellow Labrador guide dog, Nira, is lying on the floor by his side.
Thank you, Christopher Bowsman, for your kind words ~sk
Steve Kuusisto on Poetry and Disability Studies
The Blackwell Inn was a big lavishly decorated hotel, and the conference was held in the ball room. I saw Steve Kuusisto moving up to the podium and talking to his dog “Come on, girl.” Moving in unison with the dog up to the podium. He introduced himself, his guide dog Nari, (Who “by the miracle of frozen sperm” is from his last dog), and began to explain disability as a mode of perception. The ability to re-claim “embodiment” (How our bodies are perceived.) is as ancient as language, he argues.
Steve was funny, articulate, and poetic. Frequently, he made allusions to other poems, or modes of perception that “re-claim embodiment.” That is, he examined the inner world of disability, its lived experience, in contrast to being defined as reified (lacking. Blindness being the absence of light. Deafness being the absence of hearing, etc. In his poetry, he describes his dog as being much more than a dog; that sometimes they are one being. This is actually how I feel about my wheelchair too. He tells stories of watching drunken men in wheelchairs eating flowers, and wrote about that poetically. Through poetry, Steve gains insight and a unique epistemology.
While you won’t hear much about it from the national press the “ADA Restoration Act of 2007” cleared two House committees yesterday with only one opposing vote. (I’ll have more to say on that in a minute…)
It is heartening that in a time of divisive squabbling in Washington the cause of Americans with disabilities has once again “shown the way” for true bi-partisan legislation and negotiation.
Disability is universal—it transcends race, class, gender, point of origin, sexual orientation, social status, age, fortune, and happenstance. Just so: the lives and concerns of people with disabilities are in fact the most logical point of “ethos” for a largely divided country to reassert its American values of fairness and decency.
While you wouldn’t always know it from the strident qualities of my prose I am at heart an optimist about the United States. I have lived to see kids with disabilities get a real chance in public education—when, not so long ago I was one of those “mainstreamed” kids who struggled without civil rights or appropriate educational supports. Yes, we’re a decent nation. We’ve come a long way in many areas. There’s reason for a positive outlook. And yes, there’s also reason to stay strident. Rights and liberty are inconvenient for the ruling classes and we forget this at our peril.
“Aw, c’mon, Kuusisto, you don’t really think we have a ‘ruling class” in the United States, do you? I mean, don’t you agree that we’re a ‘classless society” etc. etc.?”
Photo description: Nira, a yellow Labrador, is in a down position. She and Steve are doing obedience. Although we can’t see Steve, we can see the leash he’s holding attached to Nira’s collar. She is looking up in his direction. It’s a great head shot, compliments of Graham Buck of Guiding Eyes for the Blind.
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