--I would define, in brief, the Poetry of words as the Rhythmic creation of Beauty. Its sole arbiter is Taste.
Edgar Allan Poe
from The Poetic Principle
--Genuine Poetry can communicate before it is understood.
T. S. Eliot
All significant truths are private truths. As they become public they cease to become truths; they become facts, or at best, part of the public character; or at worst, catchwords.
T. S. Eliot
Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity.
T. S. Eliot
Any poet, if he is to survive beyond his 25th year, must alter; he must seek new literary influences; he will have different emotions to express.
T. S. Eliot
April is the cruellest month.
T. S. Eliot
Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute, and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself and yet never escapes itself.
T. S. Eliot
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
T. S. Eliot
Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal.
T. S. Eliot
It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.
T. S. Eliot
It's not wise to violate rules until you know how to observe them.
T. S. Eliot
Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.
T. S. Eliot
Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.
T. S. Eliot
Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
T. S. Eliot
TS Eliot
The bad poet is usually unconscious where he ought to be conscious, and conscious where he ought to be unconscious.
T. S. Eliot
The business of the poet is not to find new emotions, but to use the ordinary ones and, in working them up into poetry, to express feelings which are not in actual emotions at all.
T. S. Eliot
Oct 29, 2007
Aug 20, 2007
What Stars Brought in October
Tuscan stars in a dark season. October
sky as death veilings; a shimmer-water
cobalt-blue in a dark season. By almond
saplings, leaves as rinds, a bevy of
jeterusy flowers.
- in progress
sky as death veilings; a shimmer-water
cobalt-blue in a dark season. By almond
saplings, leaves as rinds, a bevy of
jeterusy flowers.
- in progress
Aug 11, 2007
In Brine, Beneath Delos
In Brine, Beneath Delos,
Poseydon praised each mackerel with
A silvery line across mid-body; across
Mid-body and under, draped, a prism
Sheen or spleen of mother-of-pearl
And thin skin. Across the counter, sprawled,
On ice in all its coldness, a mackerel
Limp, its ghost-eyes pierced into skull
Like pearls, its head a part of its body
Under Mackerel Sky, a bevy of dead mackerel
Shells placed as decorum on Day's blue walls.
:
In Delos, a fisherman, in a Pleyt, spotted
A Horse entering the sea and, by it,
Getting swallowed. In Brine, the Horse
Transforms and turns into Poseydon.
In Brine, in rows, steams of uncoloured
Fish, till he arcs in a downhill motion
His spear and turns - clad in damask-
Each fish into a cross between Salmon
And Pirayah, names them Brinelos.
Poseydon praised each mackerel with
A silvery line across mid-body; across
Mid-body and under, draped, a prism
Sheen or spleen of mother-of-pearl
And thin skin. Across the counter, sprawled,
On ice in all its coldness, a mackerel
Limp, its ghost-eyes pierced into skull
Like pearls, its head a part of its body
Under Mackerel Sky, a bevy of dead mackerel
Shells placed as decorum on Day's blue walls.
:
In Delos, a fisherman, in a Pleyt, spotted
A Horse entering the sea and, by it,
Getting swallowed. In Brine, the Horse
Transforms and turns into Poseydon.
In Brine, in rows, steams of uncoloured
Fish, till he arcs in a downhill motion
His spear and turns - clad in damask-
Each fish into a cross between Salmon
And Pirayah, names them Brinelos.
Aug 10, 2007
Crevalle Jacks from Nova Scota to Uruguay
From Nova Scota to Uruguay
and Portugal to Angola,
The Crevalle Jacks swim all day
In steams, bodies of draped
Luminosity as silver-green
As mackerel essence, eyes
Like pearls pierced into
The heads - each head a part
Of their broad bodies. In
Delphi, Apollo praised
Each Jack by silvery line
Across mid-body; now across
Mid-waist an prism sheen.
and Portugal to Angola,
The Crevalle Jacks swim all day
In steams, bodies of draped
Luminosity as silver-green
As mackerel essence, eyes
Like pearls pierced into
The heads - each head a part
Of their broad bodies. In
Delphi, Apollo praised
Each Jack by silvery line
Across mid-body; now across
Mid-waist an prism sheen.
Aug 4, 2007
Stages for: a Butterfly
.4
In a Mimesis of moths, these swallowtails
fly lambent over water - all wings all head
and body. Thorax contraction, then sudden
wing-fluttering. There are two swallowtails
whose wings are dim and frail with age.
Tongues coil and uncoil licking the rests
of a halcyon nest.
.3
A pupa whorls inside the cocoon hanging
like pears: tip and end of body twist like
Nautilus shells. Think fingerprints here,
think sea snake without its scales'
oily gleam of luminosity. Think cat on lap
or snail inside its shell. . .
Larva uncoils as cocoon dilates.
.2
Putti-innocenct, a larva lies stock-still
beneath the leaves, a crawler whose trail behind
is only slime and blank.
.1
The egg is less cream than milk-chroma
when it cracks open. Alcyone swathes
enamel shells.
In a Mimesis of moths, these swallowtails
fly lambent over water - all wings all head
and body. Thorax contraction, then sudden
wing-fluttering. There are two swallowtails
whose wings are dim and frail with age.
Tongues coil and uncoil licking the rests
of a halcyon nest.
.3
A pupa whorls inside the cocoon hanging
like pears: tip and end of body twist like
Nautilus shells. Think fingerprints here,
think sea snake without its scales'
oily gleam of luminosity. Think cat on lap
or snail inside its shell. . .
Larva uncoils as cocoon dilates.
.2
Putti-innocenct, a larva lies stock-still
beneath the leaves, a crawler whose trail behind
is only slime and blank.
.1
The egg is less cream than milk-chroma
when it cracks open. Alcyone swathes
enamel shells.
Rainbow Abalone
Abalone shell: Imagine opaline fields of soap
bubbles, minus spheres. Imagine wet, rainbowy
abalone, whose surface looks like oil on hot
asphalt - that same bubbly, water-coloured
smear & smudge on layered flakes as frail
as thistle stems.
Rainbow Abalone
Abalone shell: Imagine opaline fields of soap
bubbles, minus spheres. Imagine wet rainbow
abalone, whose surface looks like oil on hot
asphalt - that same bubbly, water-coloured
smear & smudge on layered flakes as frail
as thistle stems. Imagine Grand Canyon -
rugged, red rocks on rough landscape.
Watery, rainbowy abalone, whose glossy surface
looks like oil on hot asphalt - it's that same
bubbly, water-colour smear & smudge on layered
flakes, brittle as pompom stems - tender as flesh.
bubbles, minus spheres. Imagine wet, rainbowy
abalone, whose surface looks like oil on hot
asphalt - that same bubbly, water-coloured
smear & smudge on layered flakes as frail
as thistle stems.
Rainbow Abalone
Abalone shell: Imagine opaline fields of soap
bubbles, minus spheres. Imagine wet rainbow
abalone, whose surface looks like oil on hot
asphalt - that same bubbly, water-coloured
smear & smudge on layered flakes as frail
as thistle stems. Imagine Grand Canyon -
rugged, red rocks on rough landscape.
Watery, rainbowy abalone, whose glossy surface
looks like oil on hot asphalt - it's that same
bubbly, water-colour smear & smudge on layered
flakes, brittle as pompom stems - tender as flesh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)