Good morning and the world somehow looks different.

by jhon baker

I can’t decide if I want to now file the 2010 poetry separately from the 2011 like I have always done with past years, so far there doesn’t seem to be a nice cap on last year but I am still working on several from the past few months, but the finished product would go in this year, not last year. I will probably do what habit dictates but we shall see. I usually give myself until February when I do the taxes to have all my files straightened out and properly stored for long term.
Last years output wasn’t bad at all, more than the previous year and this has been going for awhile. I wanted to have written more and while I dealt with the three and a half month creative drought I cannot seem to allow that to be an excuse – though it be a damn good one.
This blog is finally recovering from said drought and I hope to keep up the pace for awhile. We shall see. I’ve never been the most prolific writer, but have always focused on making each offering the best it could be before it left my possession and entered the world on its own, others can do this faster than I but I don’t mind that as long as I’ve got the process going – usually on several at the same time.
As of right now I think there are six or so nearly complete poems – including a long one (a few hundred lines) and in that one I owe to a great friend, Kevin – nearly complete but still struggling with a few lines – not perfect yet, soon – soon.
There is also a moleskine with many ideas for new work, several typed pages with ideas and of course – there are the notes made in the margins of what I’ve been reading lately and my brain which teems with ideas that float along through the noise waiting for better formulation to be written down.
I believe in Allen Ginsberg’s “first thought, best thought.” I also acknowledge that even this first thought is not always best said with the first words that come to describe it. A. Believed this as well – evidenced by his journals and early copies of his poems. He would work on some things for years and others would come off on the plane trip home. I refer to “Father Death” in this last instance.
When writing Haiku I usually come up with most of the wording right away – as it strikes me, a satori moment if you will, and then work hard to file it down to as few words as possible, sort of like Ezra Pound would focus on later in life. Then it is meter – the syllable – each one considered for its metrical flow. This seems clinical but it isn’t and it thrills me while I am doing it. The act is also very taxing for me and sometimes I will require a mental break away from it lest I lose my mind again.
yes, I edit my poetry and I know that to some this is sacrilege. I am trying to do something with the line, the poetic form, and I am zeroing in on it. Hopefully, by old age, I’ll have it sussed.

Why have I written all this out?

I have no clue.

now to work on my magpie prompt.

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