Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I'm not your kind of poet
in fact you would bind me with
strophe, trophy, grope me with
trying to find the technical aspect
of how a "poem is constructed"
of how we can dissect it into its respective parts
like a prehistoric amphibian, and mount it
in a glass case in a science department
or museum, funny how the word "museum"
has the word muse in it, are muses just quaint
mythology now, maybe not if we act like we
are still writing poetry by the rules of ancient Greece
But what was it that Plato said about poets, I forget
I never got the hang of Plato, maybe I can dredge
something back from the subtract infinitum of memory
the parable of the cave, leaps to instant recall, my my
he have come a long way since we realized the beauty
of an idea, that is eternal, but I still don't see how
poetry is a threat to the ideal situation, since it never
has been shown to be the case, we just took it for granted
so poetry has taken on some kind of hair suit persona
since it was dragged before the assembly of patriarchs
it had to have meter and matter the right way, so it
would not peter out in the minds of bored academicians
this went on for literally centuries, language had to be
hobbled and humbled, prim and proper, it had to mean
what it was suppose to mean, and do it by the proscribed
method, it's like anything else in society, taboo and no no
even today poets who say that Poe is their favorite poet
really? do you really see the poet Poe, or do you only see
the sanctioned rhythms of his verse, because he played by
some rules, or do you dig deeper in the grave soil of his mind
do you really want to see what was in his unconscious content
or do you just want to go on endlessly about bells, hells, bells
ding ding ding ding, dong dong dong, those fucking bells, but
it was Poe, and you are in love with Gothic American style
how would you like to spend the night with Poe on his last night
do you want to see what he saw, you cannot separate the poet
from his poems, you cannot separate the poems from who the
poet is, the words go to the depths of his being, are pictures
taken from real experience of the human psyche, in all its
amazing diversity, perversity, contrariness, subversion, upside
down, inside out, it's not the shackles on the language, that are
beautiful, it's not the iron maiden, or the pendulum that is
it's not the iambic pentameter, that makes the Raven so chilling
it's the actual blood in the veins of the writer, it's the black ink
of their soul, and a poet is not the lead actor in Gone With the Wind
but they don't give a damn what those who do poetry as a hobby, think
at least I don't, and frankly, it's okay, that I am not your kind of poet

OMG... you are MY kind of poet! This is fabulous!

AMEN to all you said! I'm going to get down on my knees and worship the poetry you write.

better stay on your feet, it's easier to read that way.

Hahaha! OK.

But listen... I think you and I should start a poetry church. Poetry heals! Poetry can save lives! We could get donations every week during our poetry "sermon" ... pass around the collection plate. Tax free status!

When can we have our first meeting about this idea?

What should we call the poetry church?

We could do it online, too. In person and online. Double the donations!

I need some money before I lose my house.

maybe if Jesus had been a poet, or the saints.
but anyway poetry church? I have heard poetry read in an auditorium
and in a library, and various locations where a group of people
can gather, maybe best known in a drinking establishment
but nobody ever said "hallelujah!", maybe a tossed tomato
or a snort, or occasional "right on" people do clap, but in a crowd
it is always a mixed response, howls, hoots, shrieks, boos, hysterical
laughter, the poet as priest, i did that years ago in the OTO, I mean
being a "priest" that read poetry in a ritual setting, nobody ever
payed me, for that.

No hallelujahs necessary. It's a different type of church. The concept is that poetry heals. Writing poetry is therapeutic.

It would be like a writing workshop with a performance at the end. No priest, just poets.

They donate $ to be together and write together and help support the space.

It's a little gimmicky to call it a church, but if you think about it, poetry IS therapeutic. It IS healing. It CAN save people's lives. Writing can be a way of working through life's problems.

Amen.

Lrod and I used to talk about doing this. But he died.

I donno, I quell at the thought of the idea poetry as therapy
or at any rate attempting to put it under that banner
poetry is alchemy, but most people drawn to poetry
on the internet, are looking for a kind of Facebook poetry
I am not saying that there is not something therapeutic about it
but as soon as you try to place it in that arena, it sort of kills
the stealth bohemian quality of it, the fragile fringe lunatic nature
of it, the shadowy illusive flow, and it becomes a thing to worship
and placed on a psychiatrist couch pedestal alter, because now it is
"therapy". Can you imagine how difficult it would be to keep the
rabble entertained? They would never be satisfied, because they
were ready to be analyzed up the yin-yang for every word they wrote.
and would demand instant enlightenment, at every session, you would
get a cramp in your mental arm, because they would need to be slapped
up the side of the head like a pack of hungry Pavlov dogs yapping for
special treats. You would have to administer shocks to their nervous
systems, in between, to keep them jumping for the therapy treat.

Umm... sorta sounds like you don't like the idea. Oh well. I thought it was sorta funny.

so poetry has taken on some kind of hair suit persona - is a very good line. i remember reading that poe's 'the raven' was structured in a rhythm critics thought was only good for comic poetry, and then poe went and did something else with it. i do like the damn bells poem if only because it taught me you can repeat and repeat and make it work, and i love it too for teaching me the word tintinnabulation. if the story is true - and i'm no historian and have no idea, but it certainly sounds possible to me - that kind of accidental unsought death, that he was trashed drunk in baltimore, got picked up by the kind of guys who 'shanghied' men onto ships and these political minions overloaded him with drink while they drove him (with the other drunks) from polling place to polling place then ditched him ... yeah, i think i know what his last night was like. pretty sure i do.

facebook poetry versus stealth bohemian poetry - uh huh, and poetry as therapy - i think that can happen, but only now and then and accidentally and the life would go out of it if it was organized.

sorry, doreen, it does sound like a great and funny idea.

I tend to exaggerate things, writing is a cruel taskmaster, so much is crap, and so much is not even worth the bother, but there are so many great writers and poets out there that it makes it worth the bother. I read that book about how Poe died. Strange fate for a great poet/writer, but he explored the dark underbelly of the American psyche. So, maybe Poe just found himself in one of his stories.Maybe there is even more to the story. It is very strange indeed, when I contemplate Poe's last day or night, because when I read about it, I have this weird feeling that I was Poe in a past life. Not really, but what he went through seems oddly familiar.As a young poet starting out I went through a psychic break, it was like I deliberately
put myself through it, to forge myself into the poet.I at the time was taking a jr. collage class
called "the poetry of death". So I was not really getting the hang of organized education, but I wanted to be a poet, so I went out and kind of created a scene where I lived out my own "poetry of death". I always thought I woulds write a novel about that period, instead I wrote the novel about my teenage period in the late 60's.

Lrod and I used to talk about doing this. But he died.

you cracked me up so bad with this doreen - even after the guffaws and belly laughs petered out
this little train of chuckles came along & came along & came along -

Oh, as far as "the hair suit persona" I have no idea what I meant when I wrote that, it just come out. But now when I think about it, we are still in some ways in the dark ages. Hair suits
were worn by Christians I guess so they did not think about sex. Poets in a strange way put on an imaginary hair suit so they think more about sex and everything else that is taboo. It's just when you read some poets it seems like they believe that they have to write by some agreed upon rules granted by some ultimate authority out there, in order to fit it, to get published. So in a way we superimpose these measures upon ourselves like religion, like Christians in the dark ages. But now the imaginary hair suit has the opposite effect, it just adds to our lurid imaginations, so why do we force it upon ourselves. Like, hey, I know your suffering, so you don't have to chain yourself to your typewriter and toss yourself overboard. And take off that imaginary hair suit it's making me sneeze.

ha! right. maybe the hair suit (and i keep thinking hirsute, the hairy poems?) is just a sign of difference, but now it's not difference because everyone/everything/even teevee shows are lurid, right there on prime time. so...should we write about butterflies and buttered pancakes, would that be the new shocking sign of difference?

i'm just rambling.

doreen, i'm not having mingo's response exactly. i can see it, the dry brevity of what you said, but...

By the way, today is Poe's birthday, it just so happens.