Thursday, July 12, 2012

NEC MFA Summer Residency 2012


Summer Residency Events

A Pilgrimage to Dunbarton
Students with New England College's MFA program packed bag lunches and piled into cars to visit the grave of poet Robert Lowell in Dunbarton, New Hampshire. Homage was paid to the Pulitzer-Prize winning poet when each student read his favorite Lowell poem.

Photos courtesy of Annelies Hyatt Zijderveld and Michele Parker Randall

Patrick Meighan is shown here reading from Lowell's "The Quaker Graveyard in Nantucket." Read an excerpt from the poem here: 

A brackish reach of shoal off Madaket,-
The sea was still breaking violently and night
Had steamed into our north Atlantic Fleet,
when the drowned sailor clutched the drag-net. Light
Flashed from his matted head and marble feet,
He grappled at the net
With the coiled, hurdling muscles of his thighs; (1-7)

Click here to read the entire poem.

Rachel Fogarty reading Donne's "The Apparition"
Poetry at the Covered Bridge - A Tradition
The Contoocook River, which runs alongside the New England College campus, offers students many opportunities for fun. During the day, students can be seen sitting by the side of the river or jumping in on a rope swing. Students from the MFA program have made it an annual tradition to read poetry at the covered bridge. One night this June, students read their favorite spooky and not-so-spooky poems. Activities concluded after with each student read a stanza from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven."


Congratulations Class of 2012
New England College MFA Class of 2012: Susan Williamson, Laura Stillson, Michele Randall, Daniel Padilla, Michael Odom, Dawn Coutu, Shoshanna Cote, Katie Cloutte, and Sherry Horowitz (not shown in the photo below).
Class of 2012










4 comments:

Susan R. Williamson said...

for my classmates:
"The Poems Mine, Created Early…"

The poems mine, created early, so
That I hadn't known, I'm a poet, yet
And dropped, as drops from fountains' flows,
As sparkles from jets,

As little imps, that suddenly braked through in
The dreamy sanctuary, where an incest roams,
The poems mine, about youth and ruin,
Unread my poems!

Dispersed in shops and set in dusty foams,
Despised by readers, silent and forlorn,
As costly wines, my deeply buried poems
Will have their turn.

by Marina Tsvetaeva

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when the drowned sailor grasped the drag-net. Light Flashes from his tangled head and mineral feet,