...quiet, about a lot of things...
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Experimental.... for Sunday Scribblings
And I see my self on the more adventurous side of life. Lots of things I consider normal...or at least close to the realm...others may dismiss as ridiculous.
Ah, but poets are ridiculous, aren't they? They speak in tangents and invite mis-interpretations. They are Lives courting disaster. The Poets note the feeling of the fall..and wish only to survive so they can document it.... in, what was that last phase the muse offered? before they hit the bottom. And in the doing, break their hearts..spirits..bones..livers..souls..or minds.
Poets know there is a price to pay..Yet fully being aware of the price of admission..I fear, may be giving a tad too much credit. No. Rather, I think, poetry is an experiment in obsession. A practicum in balance and the loss of...and a thesis on the aftermath.
An experiment of insanity, perhaps. Paring down of words and thoughts and justifications, to the point where all is so bare..that a even a comma or period can stand alone.
An experiment in deconstruction. Life and love as mere ingriedients. The poet as chef, unflinching..fearless...losing all perspective to the boil and the simmer. For now no longer A rabbit, or A chicken or THE buck; exsits. No,now there is nothing but meat melting from bleached white bones,into the stew. Pulled into the stew.
All that remains; this reduction. These hidden flavors of the marrow. The root of all. Leaking through the rigid pores of this structure. This life. My marrow mixing with his marrow. Different animals. Same soup.
No more than food. For today. Hunger for tomorrow.
Well now..that was certainly interesting....riffy and unexpected...truly experimental!
Let's see what's cookin in other labs....shall we?
PS...quote was Helen Keller..of course. Played her in Miracle Worker...in High School..but a whole different story....