Obie,
I hope all is well with you. As you know, I'm always awed by poets. I read your poems and I am moved by the fluidity of the rhythm, by the seeming ease of the associations. I can't help wondering if you labour for your metaphors, your imagery. I'm curious. I wonder if your tropes enter your room uninvited and sit with you and compete or clamor for your attention, as my characters often do. It's just my silly musing as I walk through your houses admiring the beauty of their construction.
Your imagery of the wounded, broken soul straining to cleanse itself and injuring its delicate self even in that process is disturbing and powerful. You make the reader feel the helplessness of the sensitive soul's vulnerability. The weaving of an encounter with a corn beef can's key into an association of making self and place ready for an overdue lover, employing the wave as currency in all its manifestations, is the amazement of the poetic gift.
A Necklace of Pearls is exquisite stuff. It is an abominable mix of dark and light/ in chaos, swirled together, whirled together/ like whip cream. Thanks for the taste. Congratulations!
Keith
my dear friend, Keith, you know not how necessary and how delightful this response is for me. By so very many, this language of poetry is treated like something which cannot be responded to, when it is the language I speak and require answer as one requires/expects an answer to a letter.
You save me from feeling completely let down. I do like your house metaphor. It is a metaphor by which I'm often guided - the business of poem being a structure one can enter. [Another take though on my initial complaint - people in the rat-race seem not to have time to take in and/or to enter into a poem, much less to understand and to respond.] What you show about the "soul" poem is enlightening even to me. You turn sides of it to me which are new to me, which were hidden from me. God! I thank you.
I had relied upon friends, thinkers for feedback. Not having gotten it left me feeling so very forlorn. Your response has to some, very highly appreciated degree, reversed that. Thank you. Obie.
P.S. I wish to add your words and mine, exchanged here, to my blog. I hope you approve.
About the clamoring of tropes for my attention. Do they come to me or do I go where they are? I suppose we meet somewhere in mid-air. God! You might have just now lead me to understand why I am usually so apart from people [though I want them near me], choosing to go where/to be where poetry is/where poetry happens.
In the company or in the country of poetry is where I am usually while most of the rest of the world, especially here in Nassau, is stuck in traffic. Obie/blessings.
P.P.S. I must in addition, comment on your use of an extraction of "A necklace of Pears" itself to critique it. Economical as well as brilliant. OS.
I hope all is well with you. As you know, I'm always awed by poets. I read your poems and I am moved by the fluidity of the rhythm, by the seeming ease of the associations. I can't help wondering if you labour for your metaphors, your imagery. I'm curious. I wonder if your tropes enter your room uninvited and sit with you and compete or clamor for your attention, as my characters often do. It's just my silly musing as I walk through your houses admiring the beauty of their construction.
Your imagery of the wounded, broken soul straining to cleanse itself and injuring its delicate self even in that process is disturbing and powerful. You make the reader feel the helplessness of the sensitive soul's vulnerability. The weaving of an encounter with a corn beef can's key into an association of making self and place ready for an overdue lover, employing the wave as currency in all its manifestations, is the amazement of the poetic gift.
A Necklace of Pearls is exquisite stuff. It is an abominable mix of dark and light/ in chaos, swirled together, whirled together/ like whip cream. Thanks for the taste. Congratulations!
Keith
my dear friend, Keith, you know not how necessary and how delightful this response is for me. By so very many, this language of poetry is treated like something which cannot be responded to, when it is the language I speak and require answer as one requires/expects an answer to a letter.
You save me from feeling completely let down. I do like your house metaphor. It is a metaphor by which I'm often guided - the business of poem being a structure one can enter. [Another take though on my initial complaint - people in the rat-race seem not to have time to take in and/or to enter into a poem, much less to understand and to respond.] What you show about the "soul" poem is enlightening even to me. You turn sides of it to me which are new to me, which were hidden from me. God! I thank you.
I had relied upon friends, thinkers for feedback. Not having gotten it left me feeling so very forlorn. Your response has to some, very highly appreciated degree, reversed that. Thank you. Obie.
P.S. I wish to add your words and mine, exchanged here, to my blog. I hope you approve.
About the clamoring of tropes for my attention. Do they come to me or do I go where they are? I suppose we meet somewhere in mid-air. God! You might have just now lead me to understand why I am usually so apart from people [though I want them near me], choosing to go where/to be where poetry is/where poetry happens.
In the company or in the country of poetry is where I am usually while most of the rest of the world, especially here in Nassau, is stuck in traffic. Obie/blessings.
P.P.S. I must in addition, comment on your use of an extraction of "A necklace of Pears" itself to critique it. Economical as well as brilliant. OS.
posted by Obie Quiet at 10:01 PM
1 Comments:
Unaware until now, so very much later, that these 16 words here were connected to bodies and bodies of debate much of which I hunger, thirst and for which I'd been e-mailing, requesting. I clicked on the "land fall centre" and voila: - wells of water I thought had dried up entirely. There are those who've concluded that you were but or must have been but a mirage.
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