[lit-ideas] Re: Friday Night Poem (was: Poetry and Madness)
- From: "Steve Chilson" <stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sat, 23 Sep 2006 03:55:11 +0100
Shooting A Nun In The Back
I hear one got it for the pope's speech
and died suddenly
one minute worship and the next
dead
it must've been
anger because anger begets
anger and anger kills nuns
by shooting them
in the back.
I've been angry in my life.
It's chronicled in the County Courts,
there were witnesses
and yeah I've been angry
and I've never shot a nun in the back.
Some of these kids get stabbed in the ribs
and dunno it straightaway
their life you see, was scattered anyway.
And angry men and angry men;
five minutes Theo van Gogh dead.
A knife in a letter stuck through the chest
my intolerance speaks louder than words.
I hear one got it for the pope's speech
and died happily to be a martyr for her soul
some god is saving and another is craving
barking mad against the walls.
On Fri, 22 Sep 2006 23:30:08 +0100, "Steve Chilson"
<stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx> said:
> I. Calling Up Souls In Parietal Art
>
> ?La qualité esthétique dans le rendu des ?uvres individuelles comme
> dansleur mise en scène sous forme de compositions pleines de force et de
> vie concourt également au sentiment d'originalité? Brochure on the cave
> paintings at La Grotte Chavet Pont D?Arc
>
> Plucked from loin to be plunged
> Inconversant into cognition,
> the anachronistic pleasures manifested
> their burlesque of labyrinthine entanglements
> lit by a wick of moss,
> in last moves toward efflorescence
> by combing out a muse?s ceremonial significance,
> Gourging on the intimate rituals and symbolism
> Of moments, lost
> In a foreplay of aesthetics
> Toward a trance to mediate the will of the spirits,
> hallucinating beasts
> until fitfully exhausted.
>
> Connections to the outside world
> developed an ichthyosic thickening against
> the subtle disorders populating the nervous system:
> a prolonged exposure to abstractions
> and the suddenly axiomatic awareness of his
> nothingness, the solitude of the red
> and yellow ochre, the sharp flint points
> engraving a leniency in the elbow grease
> busying with circumventions,
> each subsequent stage of labor
> induced in honor of escaping
> the dull, regretful lassitude
> of pursuing the daily compendium.
>
> II. Resignation's Antidotes and Therapeutic Aims
>
> In this harsh salmagundi, in the
> distinct rags of the universal,
> a pattern emerges:
> the splendor retraces its steps pathologically
> looking for the original stitch,
> the needle through the artery,
> the dominion over the creation.
>
> Constancy and purpose:
> the parallactic observations
> in need of grounding ennui
> and its infinate coordinates
> into a teleology reflecting
> the effete order.
> The mimetic patchwork
> is no saviour from decay.
> The peril of meaninglessness
> remains a hypoglossal jive,
> inundating ululations,
> plosives penetrating the quiddities
> with faithful paradoxes.
>
> III. A Commercial Break From All-Consuming Dread
>
> Dichotomies, visible even in the poker face,
> contort with uncertainties,
> tearing at trussed pathos
> until so estranged and familiar,
> the triangular veil,
> insult after insult,
> is removed:
> the hairs of clarity stand on edge,
> the charge builds up
> and fixes its positions
> on the obtuse.
>
> Faithful repetition eases the digestion,
> converting a degraded temerity
> into a fine texture of anamnesis.
> The doting enzymes break down
> futile resistance into a bile of histrionics
> giving it a semblance of solution,
> the fissure through which the infinite was peeping.
>
> ******
>
>
> On Fri, 22 Sep 2006 14:47:38 -0700, "Lawrence Helm"
> <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx> said:
> > Now that we've established the difference between poetry and prose, we
> > need
> > to move on to the difference between mere poetry and great poetry. Here
> > is
> > what John Berryman had to say about that (quoted on page 114 of
> > Jaimison's
> > Touched with Fire):
> >
> >
> >
> > "I do strongly feel that among the greatest pieces of luck for high
> > achievement is ordeal. Certain great artists can make out without it,
> > Titian and others, but mostly you need ordeal. My idea is this: The
> > artist
> > is extremely lucky who is presented with the worst possible ordeal which
> > will not actually kill him. At that point, he's in business.
> > Beethoven's
> > deafness, Goya's deafness, Milton's blindness, that kind of thing. And I
> > think that what happens in my poetic work in the future will probably
> > largely depend not on my sitting calmly on my ass as I think, 'Hmm, hmm,
> > a
> > long poem again? Hmm,' but on being knocked in the face, and thrown
> > flat,
> > and given cancer, and all kinds of other things short of senile dementia.
> > At that point, I'm out, but short of that, I don't know. I hope to be
> > nearly crucified."
> >
> >
> >
> > But maybe I ought to pause to ask, Irene, how committed are you to the
> > idea
> > of writing poetry?
> >
> >
> >
> > Lawrence
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > From: Steve Chilson
> > Sent: Friday, September 22, 2006 2:04 PM
> > Subject: [lit-ideas] Re: Poetry and Madness
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > On Fri, 22 Sep 2006 12:26:51 -0700, "Lawrence Helm"
> >
> > <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxx> said:
> >
> > > You must first of all make up your mind that there is a difference
> >
> > > between
> >
> > > poetry and prose.
> >
> >
> >
> > The biggest difference between poetry and prose is that only poets
> >
> > continue to get drunk and still write. Many a great novelist has been
> >
> > felled by the drink, the work is too involved and lengthy - yet poets
> >
> > can be opium addicts, alcoholics, junkies - prose writers want to create
> >
> > a story, poets want to create a moment. One is easier to do drunk or
> >
> > high than the other.
> >
> >
> >
> > And then there's journalists...
> >
> >
> >
> > --
> >
> > Steve Chilson
> >
> > stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx
> >
> >
> >
> --
> Steve Chilson
> stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx
>
> --
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Steve Chilson
stevechilson@xxxxxxxxxxx
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