Quincy Troupe

a blackboard in my mind holds words eye dream-- & blessed are the words that fly like birds into poetry-- & syllables attach wings to breath & fly away there through music, my language springing round from where a bright polished sound, burnished as a new copper penny shines in the air like the quick, jabbing glint of a trumpet lick flicking images through voices there pulsating like strobe lights the partying dark understands, as heartbeats pumping rhythms hip- hopping through footsteps,

I am writing as a former colleague of Quincy Troupe at UC San Diego ("Poet Resigns Post at UC San Diego Over Resume Lie," Dec. 4). I am, like him, a poet and writer. I was the head for the writing section in the literature department where he taught for many years. Like him, I was tenured from the day of my arrival there, even though I did not have a bachelor of arts degree. I dropped out of Stanford in 1961, a year early, when students were becoming radicalized and disaffected from most confirmed institutions.

It is indicative of the vitality of the late Miles Davis that his friend and biographer Quincy Troupe often still speaks of him in the present tense. The jazz trumpeter left such a broad legacy and had such momentum in music and in life that it may well take a lifetime for the rest of us just to catch up to him. "He did so much, but it was never enough for him," Troupe recalls. "He said to me one day, 'Quincy, I don't ever want to be a museum piece under glass.'

Award-winning poet Quincy Troupe, who stepped down as California poet laureate after it was revealed that he lied about having a bachelor's degree, announced Tuesday that he is resigning his $140,900-a-year post as a literature professor at UC San Diego for the same reason.

If you're a poet, you're supposed to choose words carefully. And if you were Quincy Troupe on Friday morning, you were choosing really carefully. Troupe, a 62-year-old UC San Diego professor who was named California's poet laureate in June, stood at a lectern at the Omni Los Angeles Hotel downtown, facing a crowd of diplomats and cultural officials from 39 countries.

First and foremost, Quincy Troupe considers himself a poet, but any piece of writing he touches becomes music. With an uncanny ear for the language, he combines mere words into phrases and paragraphs that sing the range of life's raw emotions, from the elation of a Magic Johnson slam-dunk to the melancholy of a Miles Davis trumpet solo.

First and foremost, Quincy Troupe considers himself a poet, but any piece of writing he touches becomes music. With an uncanny ear for the language, he combines mere words into phrases and paragraphs that sing the range of life's raw emotions, from the elation of a Magic Johnson slam-dunk to the melancholy of a Miles Davis trumpet solo.

Re "State Poet Overstated His Case," Oct. 19: I would say that Quincy Troupe, California's first formally selected poet laureate -- who resigned Friday after acknowledging he had taken a bit of poetic license on his professional resume, stating, "I deeply regret my ill-advised decision to include inaccurate information on my curriculum vitae" -- was being rather equivocal. I think a simple "I'm sorry I lied" would have sufficed. Gersten Schachne Northridge An ode to Gov. Davis: Roses are red Violets are blue Quincy Troupe pulled A fast one on you Joe Cohen Los Angeles

I am writing as a former colleague of Quincy Troupe at UC San Diego ("Poet Resigns Post at UC San Diego Over Resume Lie," Dec. 4). I am, like him, a poet and writer. I was the head for the writing section in the literature department where he taught for many years. Like him, I was tenured from the day of my arrival there, even though I did not have a bachelor of arts degree. I dropped out of Stanford in 1961, a year early, when students were becoming radicalized and disaffected from most confirmed institutions.

Quincy T. Troupe, California's first formally selected poet laureate, resigned Friday after acknowledging he had taken a bit of poetic license on his professional resume. Troupe, 62, who teaches at UC San Diego and is widely known for his dramatic readings, attended Grambling University, but did not -- as his curriculum vitae said -- earn a degree there. Troupe's resignation was a blush-inducer for Gov. Gray Davis, who picked him from among three formidable finalists in June.

Re "State Poet Overstated His Case," Oct. 19: The recent resignation of the sublime poet Quincy Troupe begs the question: Why does society put so much emphasis on college degrees? I am tired of fly-by-night college programs. The proliferation of programs on commuter campuses are for job promotions, the quality uneven. It's sad that Troupe felt compelled to claim on paper he'd graduated from Grambling University. He's a poet, a distinction attained by few. Let this be enough for him; his work stands above the paltry piece of paper that says "baccalaureate."

Quincy T. Troupe, California's first formally selected poet laureate, resigned Friday after acknowledging he had taken a bit of poetic license on his professional resume. Troupe, 62, who teaches at UC San Diego and is widely known for his dramatic readings, attended Grambling University, but did not -- as his curriculum vitae said -- earn a degree there. Troupe's resignation was a blush-inducer for Gov. Gray Davis, who picked him from among three formidable finalists in June.

If you're a poet, you're supposed to choose words carefully. And if you were Quincy Troupe on Friday morning, you were choosing really carefully. Troupe, a 62-year-old UC San Diego professor who was named California's poet laureate in June, stood at a lectern at the Omni Los Angeles Hotel downtown, facing a crowd of diplomats and cultural officials from 39 countries.

Speaking by phone to poet Quincy Troupe, not quite 24 hours after his accession to poet laureate status, is almost like listening not to the man, but to a syncopated sample of his voice. Call waiting interrupts his momentum so frequently that his voice begins to take on a rhythmic texture--the stutter step of ska, with maybe an echo of dance hall reggae or garden variety rap. Oddly like his poetry itself. " ... That was my agent. Sandra Dijkstra.

The Capitol was absorbed as usual Tuesday with the grueling work of passing a state budget. But in a conference room just off the governor's office, the talk was of poetry--its beauty, its potential, its relevance in our modern, materialistic world. The man doing the talking was Quincy T. Troupe, California's first formally selected poet laureate. After a panel of literary experts thinned the group of 50 contenders to three, Gov. Gray Davis decided that Troupe was the bard for the job.

a blackboard in my mind holds words eye dream-- & blessed are the words that fly like birds into poetry-- & syllables attach wings to breath & fly away there through music, my language springing round from where a bright polished sound, burnished as a new copper penny shines in the air like the quick, jabbing glint of a trumpet lick flicking images through voices there pulsating like strobe lights the partying dark understands, as heartbeats pumping rhythms hip- hopping through footsteps,

Award-winning poet Quincy Troupe, who stepped down as California poet laureate after it was revealed that he lied about having a bachelor's degree, announced Tuesday that he is resigning his $140,900-a-year post as a literature professor at UC San Diego for the same reason.

Aug. 13, 1965, proved to be the first day of the rest of a new life for Eric Priestley. That morning, the 21-year-old college athlete emerged from the Central Avenue pool hall where he was living to investigate what sounded like the far-off tinkle of wind chimes.