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msarki

M Sarki

Besides being a poet with four collections published, M Sarki is a painter, film maker, and photographer. He likes fine coffee and long walks. 

M Sarki has written, directed, and produced six short films titled Gnoman's Bois de Rose, Biscuits and Striola , The Tools of Migrant Hunters, My Father's Kitchen, GL, and Cropped Out 2010. More details to follow. Also the author of the feature film screenplay, Alphonso Bow.

Currently reading

Brett Whiteley: Art, Life and the Other Thing
Ashleigh Wilson
Girlfriends, Ghosts, and Other Stories
Annette Wiesner, Nicole Kongeter, Robert Walser, Tom Whalen
The Lesser Bohemians
Eimear McBride
My Life and Loves
John F. Gallagher, Frank Harris
Melbourne Beach and Indialantic Florida
Frank J. Thomas
Writing Dangerously: Mary McCarthy and Her World
Stephen Black, Carol Brightman
Seduction and Betrayal: Women and Literature
Elizabeth Hardwick, Joan Didion
My Friend Annabel Lee (1903)
Mary MacLane
Human Days: A Mary MacLane Reader
Bojana Novakovic, Michael R. Brown, Mary MacLane
Stranger Shores: Essays 1986-1999
J.M. Coetzee

Selected Poems

Selected Poems - Mary Ruefle http://msarki.tumblr.com/post/150025150323/selected-poems-by-mary-ruefle

[a:Linda Gregg|248368|Linda Gregg|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1451533066p2/248368.jpg] won the William Carlos Williams Award for Poetry in 2009. I am not aware of any other notable poet who has won this medal. But when I read all the glowing remarks about Selected Poems by Mary Ruefle, and I discovered that the collection also had won what I believed to be a coveted award, my interest in Ruefle became obsessive and a new study was on. My literary addiction cannot be helped. I am always searching for the next [a:Jack Gilbert|82593|Jack Gilbert|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1222366375p2/82593.jpg] or [a:Wallace Stevens|42920|Wallace Stevens|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1208891582p2/42920.jpg], and even amenable to reading a poet similar to [a:Raymond Carver|7363|Raymond Carver|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1201118985p2/7363.jpg]’s lyrical prose, or the basically unknown and now-dead [a:Casey Finch|231870|Casey Finch|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] who would have been a great one had he lived. Add my listening to Mary Ruefle speak on two different podcasts over the past summer of 2016 and a robust interest was stimulated for reading all her work. Here I believed I had discovered perhaps another great poet to add to my small but withering collection. Unfortunately, however, her poems became an exacting bore on me, and her bland (and wrong) words crawled across and down the page and numbered too many. Being a teacher of writing she should know this better than anyone. There are better words available if she would only listen and gaze at their beautiful faces. But the straw that finally broke my back was one of her so-called award-winning poems titled The Cart found on page 51. It begins, The empty grocery cart is beginning to roll across the empty parking lot. It’s beginning to act like Marlon Brando might if no one were watching… And that was it for me. I would much rather spend what is left of my remaining life talking about bad fruit, or even our own dying on the vine, than to suffer through one more page of what, because of it, makes so many of us hate all poetry. It is wrong to heap praise on mediocrity.