it occurs to me that i have been too guarded!
as if i first had to establish some credentials
in order to be taken seriously…
if a man claims to be an Idiot- you will not be disappointed! (ambiguous)
the Art of appearance
is clearer than
the deceptions
of the apparent…
(does that make sense?)
What is poetry…? A needle and thread…
poetry is trying to
happen right now
between fingers
mind and keyboard
can poetry actually
be written on computers?
I seriously doubt it.
This is not a poem.
Vain artless diatribe.
The predominance of BAD poetry
far out weighs good poetry
poetry is itself the limp
flower of the human spirit
a kind of honest-femininity!
a kind of soul jerking
honesty monstering
wound sharing
neutral ground
that nobody
can stand together
for too long
how much do you really
want to know about a
person?
in the final analysis
we are all thin
snippets of paper in
a cheap book
I really like this piece. The absurdity of poetry, yes? I hear you, I understand – thank you. But its very ironic, anti-poetry that is. The contradictions, the absurdity…
And where but in poetry can man embrace the contradictions? Perhaps you are a fan of Whitman, who seems to have, more clearly than most, hammered that point (embracing the contradictions).
The irony will always be that anti-poetry is poetry, anti-art is art – the age of irony, indeed.
p.s.
This poem actually seems to me to be targeted at Bukowski – I know it probably isn’t, but I think you can see why I make the connection.
Poems for poetrys’ sake;
Thought profound;
If rhymes there;
So what?
Lakes for waters’ sake;
If lotus blooms;
Swans bathe;
And fish swim;
So what?
Good or Bad;
Songs that are;
Tales of heart and soul;
Are beautiful.
