Bill Garten
Bill Garten's third book of poetry,
Eventually, was written while in the Caribbean and in the North Carolina mountains. These poems deal with relationships beginning and ending as well as memories and philosophy weaving their threads throughout each poem. Bill Garten uses concrete imagery and daily observations in a style similiar to Billy Collins, Stephen Dunn and Charles Bukowski. This thrid book is intense laced with humor and you won't be disappointed once you start reading.
Bill Garten is the winner of the Emerson Prize for Poetry and the Margaret Ward Martin Prize for Creative Writing. He has published in hundreds of literary magazines such as Rattle, Antietam Review, Asheville Poetry Review, Hawaii Review, Interim, Poet Lore, Red Rock Review, Chaminade Literary Review, Wisconsin Review and others. Bill is the author of three other books of poetry: Symptoms, Black Snow and Red Rain, previously all published by Cork Hill Press and now AuthorHouse.
Bill has also been anthologized in Wild Sweet Notes, Fifty Years of West Virginia Poetry 1950-1999; And Now The Magpie, a selection of winning entries of the West Virginia Writers' Annual Awards Competition and What The Mountains Yield, a collection from West Virginia Writers.
Bill has lived in West Virginia, Tennessee, North Carolina, Florida, Virginia and Maryland. He is previously a college professor of English and Business and has taught numerous creative writing workshops. A graduate from Marietta College Bill lives in Hudson, Ohio when he is not traveling and giving poetry readings and teaching at creative writing workshops. His hobbies include swimming, hiking, snow skiing and fishing. His email address is redlol2@aol.com.
The Fans
Have their own lapping of the air
Like the waves licking the sand, the bamboo
Blades of the fans kiss each passing moment
As I sit here taking in the horizon, the other
Beach people around me. The pop of a beer
Bottle, the cap hitting the bar with its subtle
Clang. The way the whole marina sounds
At night with all the boats tied up dozing
And rocking with the water these boats
Normally are wild horses who sail the wind
And gallop through the waves of water but
Tonight as the storm approaches these boats
Seek solace like me. My eyes are searching for a smile.
A beacon to beckon me. To anchor me home.
