Posts tagged ‘on poetry’

July 17, 2010

Mostly wondering what comes next

by jhon baker

Listening to Rachmaninov (there are too many fucking variations on how his name is spelled for spell check to keep up thought it offers nightwatchman as an alternative) and thinking about this kind of poetry I’ve just read about called flarf. The example I saw was from a Google’s search prediction – someone put in half a phrase and then took what was there and called it a poem. Here is the Wikipedia definition of this avant garde nonsense. And it is nonsense in my not so humble opinion. In the article it compares it to so called “cut up” – which really is the Tristan Tzara method where you cut the words out of something else and rearrange them like either a ransom note or magnetic poetry. The Tzara method takes authorship as where flarf takes an audience to simply recognize it to be something and react to it. I don’t call it poetry but accidental art and it would more belong in a museum then in a serious journal. As accidental art I think it’s interesting and engaging. Like typing in an innocuous phrase and searching images until you manage to find porn – normally about ten pages for any keywords.
another way to look at flarf would be closer to photography – taking what is already there and manipulating it or pulling it into focus. Forcing a viewer to read beyond the goal.
So, I am not saying it’s bad art – just incorrectly categorized.

edit: I use the word authorship – I think it is the wrong word – what I mean is that to come up with this flarf a writer is unnecessary – a poet would only get in the way, I mean that there is no single creator but an audience to recognize it for it’s writerly quality but without the writer it is avant garde art, that should be on the walls, not on broadsides.

June 12, 2010

on poetry

by jhon baker

This morning started with Mahler but has nicely moved on the Bach, as nothing else would do.
Last night I was kept up by the question – is poetry really subjective? and I think I’ve a simple answer for this question – a resounding no and yes. Poetry has two distinct levels of quality, the first is where most people stay in fear of being wrong – the truly subjective, do I like it? which has no bearing on whether or not it is a good poem. this can be anything from being able to relate to it to liking the way it sounds. on the other side there is the measurement of academia – is it a good poem regardless of my personal connection to it? this looks at the treatment of everything from meter (if present) to symbolism. A great example of this is Emily D.’s ‘Because I could not stop for death’ – great poem on both levels and you do not need to know about the massive amount of symbolism and adherence to meter to enjoy it as a poem, it speaks to a great many people who don’t know that the ride with death passes through her life from youth to old age (which she never made it to, eventually slamming on the brakes for death). It is also a sound poem. There are a great many poems out there that I do not care for but are great poetry and I am able to look at them from these two angles. In my taste and opinion a bad poem is a bad poem but there are a great many people who truly enjoy bad poetry. I have yet to like a poem that is bad but yet to like all the poetry that is sound. This has a single exception that I know of – my own poetry, I am unqualified to judge it’s academic and subjective merit and at times I hate my own work so I leave that to others.
this may sound as though I am saying all academic poetry is good – far from it, most poetry tries to be too academic and fails in a spectacular way, this is where a lot of poetry is lost in the realm of bad. When the poet writes what they like it tends to come out shining on all fronts, when the so called, self called poet writes it tends to not work on either level. but there are no strict rules that govern poetry so this makes it harder and the reason why people shy away from it in terms of it’s poetic merit.

As always I retain the right to change my mind.

June 8, 2010

meeting today

by jhon baker

I’ve a noon-ish meeting today that will accomplish everything it needs to accomplish. I still don’t feel like attending. It is raining outside and it started right after I awoke, had it began a few minutes earlier I would still be asleep but this is not the stars alignment this morning. As it is I’ve been awake for nearly two hours and have done little more than stare at the bedroom ceiling and the blank composition screen on the iMac.
plans for today had included mowing the lawn and the whacking of weeds with a freshly repaired week whacker, (I enjoy large engine repair but loathe small engine repair, I was tempted to replace it with a better machine.) this is now postponed until tomorrow when the sun will be shining and the air will be thick with new mosquitoes.

I found this poem in a publication from ten years ago, I had forgotten that I published anything then. I was sure that I was still wearing sunglasses indoors and angst painted on my boots, but apparently while searching my old pen name I came across about 40 published works – most of them are terrible and this one had a little revision but it very well may be kept. I’ve had this experience so often and it remains true to many stages of my life.

hospital room

Hospital room
3 a.m.
can’t tell if I’m awake
or asleep.
Two clicks to on and
I watch the talking head
No sound,
blurry and can’t
Seem to locate my glasses.
So it goes ‘click’
and off.

I press the call button
3 or 4 times
and the R.N. opens the door
I tell him that I just wanted
Someone to chat with until
I got sleepy but said nothing
And never got sleepy.

 – Hoc Scripsi

I’ve been writing poetry most of my life and all of my adult life but I failed to see it more than a small thing for many many years. It took not writing anything other than haiku poems for awhile and a life altering event to awaken the urgency of poetry to me. Now I regard this as my calling, I am a poet and there is nothing more important to a society as that. I long to be assassinated for fear of my influence – to me, assassination spells success even though they are 3 syllables different in length.

June 6, 2010

is seven am to early to drink?

by jhon baker

tempted this morning to put Kahlua in my coffee for no reason other than the taste or change of pace.
Our life is not a movie but there is still sex on page sixty.
I stretched and kneaded yesterdays post into a sort of poem thing so that will amend. It’s not very good or is it? I can never tell when they are still so new. (this is not begging for praise though I am not above that.)
at whole foods yesterday I satiated my taste for chocolate covered espresso beans and my six year old wanted to see me indulge again this morning (a young voyeur). While this is not Kahlua or vodka it will certainly get me going as I am no longer satiate in regard to these.

 completely unrelated but I really liked this photograph.

The Buddha resides in my front garden, never complaining when people honk their horns or smoke cigarettes too close to his kata scarf.