Midsummer lies on this town like a plague: locusts now replaced by humidity, the bloodied Nile now an algae-covered rivulet struggling to find its terminus. Our choice is a simple one: to leave or to remain, to render the Spanish moss a memory or to pull it from trees, repeatedly. And this must be what
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Florida
Appointed poet laureate of the state of Florida on June 15, 2015, Peter Meinke is the author of over twenty books of poetry. He has received many awards, including a Fulbright Fellowship, two National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and three prizes from the Poetry Society of America. He worked at Eckerd College until 1993, when he retired. During his time at the college, he founded and directed its Writing Workshop.
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type |
name | state |
|---|---|---|
| Literary Organization | Sarasota Poetry Theatre-Soulspeak | Florida |
| Literary Organization | Florida Literary Arts Organization | Florida |
| Literary Organization | South Florida Writers' Association | Florida |
| Literary Organization | The Cypress Dome Society | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Books & Books Coral Gables | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Books & Books Miami Beach | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Books & Books Bal Harbour | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Books & Books Fort Lauderdale | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Inkwood Books | Florida |
| Poetry-Friendly Bookstore | Key West Island Books | Florida |
Florida poet laureate
Peter Meinke
Peter Meinke was named the poet laureate of Florida in 2015. He is the author of Lucky Bones (University of Pittsburgh Press).
poems
poem
2001
poem
1954
She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. No more
poem
1923
Barque of phosphor On the palmy beach, Move outward into heaven, Into the alabasters And night blues. Foam and cloud are one. Sultry moon-monsters Are dissolving. Fill your black hull With white moonlight. There will never be an end To this droning of the surf.
