Black Mountain Poets

A group of poets from the Black Mountain College (BMC). The college was started in 1933 and lasted until 1956. It was one of the first schools to stress the importance of teaching creative arts. The college was started by John A. Rice, a scholar who left Rollins College.


Characteristics:
"Projective verse", a term coined by Olson, was the type of "open field" poetry composition that was centered at BMC. Projective verse centered around process rather than product. The "composition by field" urges poets to at the same time remove their personal emotions from their works and cast the energy of the poems to the reader directly. Spontaneity and "the act of the poem" then take the place of reason and description.

Distinctive style of poetic diction - 'yr' for 'your'

 Major Themes:
Human Experiences
Love
Nature
War
The Environment
Mysticism


Styles:
Open long-forms

Projective verse - based on the line and each line was to be a unit of breath and utterance. The content was to consist of one perception and lead directly to a further perception. It created a distinctive style of poetic diction ("yr" for "your").

Employment of Lit Devices:


Authors:
Charles Olson - taught at BMC from 1948-1956 and was its last Rector
Robert Creeley - student; teacher for two years at BMC; editor of the Black Mountain Review, became a link between the Black Mountain poets and the outside poets

Robert Duncan 

Denise Levertov 

Jonathan Williams 

Poem:
A Form of Women by Robert Creeley

Robert Creeley

I have come far enough
from where I was not before
to have seen the things
looking in at me from through the open door

and have walked tonight
by myself
to see the moonlight
and see it as trees

and shapes more fearful
because I feared
what I did not know
but have wanted to know.

My facd is my own, I thought.
But you have seen it
turn into a thousand years.
I watched you cry.

I could not touch you.
I wanted very much to
touch you
but could not.

If it is dark
when this is given to you,
have care for its content
when the moon shines.

My face is my own.
My hands are my own.
My mouth is my own
but I am not.

Moon, moon,
whn you leave me alone
all the darkness is
an utter blackness,

a pit of fear,
a stench,
hands unreasonable
never to touch.

But I love you.
Do you love me.
What to say
when you see me.