.
I recently shared a poem (a theory of épice)
with two different groups of writers. while
one group led themselves quite naturally
away from my words into a compelling
exchange about post modern philosophy
and writing, the other group harvested
silence but for one enduring response
... I have copied it here because I love
its blatant honesty. and the question
remains. in this net-ed age, is poetry
mere entertainment?
"Indulge me for a moment. This piece
shows a lot of flex and muscle, and some
fine musicality. But you're writing for
the wrong audience. Do you want to write
poetry for poets, or do you want to write
poetry for people and posterity? I read
this piece, and what immediately comes
to mind is weight-lifters working out in
a gym on a Friday night ... for the benefit
of other weight-lifters. Who gives a fuck?
Is that really where they (and you) want
to be on a Friday night? The older I get,
the more convinced I become that poetry
has to be entertainment. I'm not talking
"dumb." Dumb people aren't even going to
look at a poem to begin with. But poetry
by its very nature is a chore. Hell, reading
is a chore. It's so much easier just to
watch -- especially since images are
ubiquitous. Video is king! Consequently,
if you want to get someone's attention,
it has to be with something that piques
in a way mere images can't. That, I know,
is a tall order; many are called, yet few
are chosen. And so, in order to be among
the chosen ... (1) Keep to the side of pith;
(2) use art, mechanics demonstrably, yet
delicately; (3) eschew all footnotes --
never mind "footknowns." And, and, and...
in"sow seeds of asymetricalities dispersed/by
honking dawn like dew-billed beaks ( ) wiped,"
for God's sake, insert some one-syllable word
where I've lent parentheses to complete this
couplet properly!"
Absolutely love it.
posted by name of the rose at 10:30 p.m.
1 Comments:
I love it, too. The critique brings up many ideas and poses some good questions. Is poetry merely entertainment? Or does it get lucky on its own merits and becomes so?
The inherent point for me is that of one choosing to write for someone else. Should the poet / writer consider, at the outset, for whom they are writing? Yes, and no.
I seldom to never consider it. It depends on what it is you're writing: form, purpose, intent. I write primarily because it is an unvanquishable urge, a force that moves me to move within it. The moment draws me in, expands itself within me, and I merely hold on as the pen or keyboard slowly releases the pressure.
I love the analogy of Friday night weightlifters posing for one another. But what is a Friday? Does the night know it is a Friday? And what of the lifter who does not care whatsoever that anybody else might be there but tends to his work quietly, without fanfare or the seeking of attention? Are not the results of his labor worthy of merit or recognition IF the bodycraft measures up in result?
I've no answers for you or anyone else in these matters. I only know what works for me. Not all I write should be made public for a variety of reasons, poets or potters notwithstanding. Like water, poetry finds its own level and audience. Were that not the case, vanilla would be the only flavor on the Baskin-Robbins menu---31 times.
Unless one is writing a textbook, screenplay, recipe, or religious tract, the consideration of one's audience when writing poetry should not head the top of the creativity list.
Entertainment is relative. Whether a blunderbuss or a sniper's rifle, targets retain their own inherent passivities and react differently to a variety of stimuli. Besides, poets need entertaining too, whether flocked with überkraft, or salted with a faint chiaroscuro.
Methinks there are no right answers to this, only many. And most are valid for someone, somewhere. I'm as grateful for the poems that make me work and wince as I am for the poems that string lazy hammocks in the tropical sun. It all speaks to craft, what works for one, what works for another. To seek some unsummitable universality is both a waste of time and a willful hobbling. Attain the moment, be honest in expression, even if the piece is rife with truthlessness, and therein lies the path less spoken.
Indeed: many are called, few are chosen. From those numbers, fewer still are called, and many remain unchosen. Call it natural syntactical balance. LOL
Enough said. I agree with the three points of pith, demonstrably delicate mechanics, and footnotelessness, generally, but as I've here proven, there's always that preposterously verbose side of every headless coin. ;-)
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