Archive for the ‘Artists Mentioned in Entries’ Category

Entry 740 — The Special Value of Solitextual Visual Poems

Wednesday, May 16th, 2012

In my taxonomy a solitextual visual poem is a poem consisting solely of textual elements that are significantly visioaesthetic–that is, what their text is visually is necessary to the poem’s central aesthetic effect.  A famous example is this, by Eugen Gomringer:

 I’m posting it again to illustrate two points.  One is that is has always been considered a “concrete poem,” because it consists of nothing but words, yet has a visual component absolutely necessary for it to have any appreciable aesthetic value–the visual appearance of the absence of text in one part of it.  That, of course, is what makes the poem a classic by depicting a silence greater than the silence of printed words–by, that is, surprising one encountering the poem (with the ability to appreciate it) with a sudden poetic understanding of something central to existence.

My other point occurred to me when recently reading something by Richard Kostelanetz in which he speaks of finding “that with words alone (he) can make the most powerful images available to (him).”  In context, he seems to be suggesting that these images are more powerful than those others get with works combining verbal and graphic elements.  I can’t go along with that.  However, on reflection, I saw how solitextual visual poems like Gomringer’s and Kostelanetz’s can be said to have a unique aesthetic punch compared to poems mixing graphics with text.  That’s because of the increase in the unexpectedness of whatever it is a solitextual visual poem does visioaesthetically compared to what the other kind of visual poem does.  I claim that both kinds of poems will, if successful, put an engagent in Manywhere-at-Once, or a part of the brain neither a conventional poem or conventional visimage (graphic image) is likely to put one, but the engagent will already be partway into that location upon first encountering a poem combining the visual and the verbal whereas he will only be in the verbal part of his brain until the pay-off in a purely solitextual poem, so the pay-off will come more forcefully, and probably be more intense.  The mixture of graphics and text, however, will be able to make up for the reduced intensification by increased richness–by going to a larger Manywhere-at-Once or inter-connected Manywhere-at-Onces.  Equal but different.

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Entry 735 — Another Long Division Poem Finished

Friday, May 11th, 2012

It’s my “Tribute to the Arts & Humanities.”  For a while I had great expectations for it; I especially liked the way my quotient came out.  But I am not too satisfied with the lettering of either my dividend or the text uder it.  They seem to me barely adequate, if that.  If there were a good cheap graphic designer in Port Charlotte, I’d hire him to improve them.  It’s not a bad poem, though–and straight-forward: the only help an engagent may need is knowing that “counter, original, spare, strange” is from Gerard Manley Hopkins–so I’m hoping it can pick up a few fans from among the sub-congnoscenti.  Make that, “pre-cogniscenti.”

(Apologies: once again I posted this as “private,” having forgotten to tag it “public.”  I generally keep my entries “private” so no one can see them but I until I’m satisfied with them, at which time I hit a button that makes them “public.”  Ridiculously often I forget to do this, as was the case this time.  No big deal, just one more reminder to me, as if I need it, that I’m a moron.)

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Entry 727 — Analysis of One’s Own Poems

Thursday, May 3rd, 2012

From Stephen Russell, at New-Poetry: “Occupy mainstream poetry.  I bet Grumman would be on board.”

Me: “Not quite.  Too many differences, one being that I consider that otherstream poets are the one-percent—the less-than-one-percent, actually–and that they are superior to mainstream poets whereas I consider the political occupiers inferior to the “one-percent” they are concerned with.  Another is that I believe in attacking groups I have differences with, with arguments, not crowds: it’s who has the better thinking that counts for me, not who has the most votes, or the equivalent.”

Russell: “But seriously . . . it is clear that many ‘poets’ do not study poetry.”

Me: “I’ve been thinking along those lines the past few days, too—because of a current project of mine, writing analyses of each of my poems.  A lawyer friend giving me extremely helpful layman feed-back seems to like my analyses but wondered if a poet analyzing his own poems might not be a tad narcissistic.  I do think I’m more self-involved than many, but in this case involved with my vocation, not really my self.  One defense I used was that no one else was analyzing my poems.  They seem to need it, too, because of their unusualness.  Also, I analyze lots of poems by others , too.  Later, I realized that all poets must analyze their own poems to some degree, even if they don’t necessarily do so formally, or even write out their analyses.  All writers—even lawyers writing position papers—must analyze their own writings

“Immediately I questioned that: I have trouble imagining a writer simply composing something without looking it over to see what he’s done and if there’s any way he can make it better, but I suppose there must be some who do.  A more interesting question is to what degree various poets analyze their own poems.  I doubt that many analyze them anywhere near as much as I analyze mine.  Is that good or bad?  Or neither: a matter of to each his own?  My own compulsion to analyze makes it hard for me not to believe those significantly less analytical than I deficient as students of poetry, and that their poems suffer a lack of depth due to it.  Not that the over-analyticals’ poems don’t likely suffer from an excess of Important Meaning.”

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Entry 719 — The Low Appeal of my Poems

Wednesday, April 25th, 2012

Come, if you will, into my poetry.  Bring a map: new territories require maps.  But don’t cling to your map.

I’m thinking once again about why my poems are’t liked by others as much as I like them–at least some of them.  There isn’t much variation in my answers to the question, but they are almost always a bit different.  They always acknowledge, too, that the problem may be that my poems are crap.  I can’t accept this.  Usually, I contend, as I will here, that they are too A for half their prospective likers to like, and too B for the other half to like.  This time the A is their being postcard picture lyrical, the B their being technically unconventional.  Those who love Frost’s woods filling up with snow as much as I do will be put off by how unorthodxically I bring my versions of his snow to them while those who might be excited by my originality of technique will be put off by my use of it to showcase the stockest of images.  Images too resolutely knit into unified wholes, I might add, the current fashion among those at the cutting edge of taste in “difficult poetry” greatly preferring discontinuities to  my unwillingness to free my images too completely from one another.

Of course, I do understand that my works are poems, and thus will have a low appeal for almost everyone.

Meanwhile, I continue more and more to be defined by my physical ailments.  I’ve been feeling barely so-so–after taking pain medication, the past few days.  That may be more due to my anti-biotic than to what’s wrong with me, who knows.  I have just three more days of the anti-biotic, assuming it’s working, and I believe it is.

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Entry 718 — Something by Marilyn

Tuesday, April 24th, 2012

The inconcision of the snow’s translation of the day was middling me deeply into wanly incorrect answers to questions about where to drain the line.  The sun is always somewhere, angry.  Too many misspelled birds, speckling the past.

Hey, here’s something for misspelled eyes and brains: a work by Marilyn Rosenberg at Amanda Earl’s National Poetry Month Site.

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Entry 702 — Another by John Vieira

Sunday, April 1st, 2012

All I can say about this one at the moment is that it’s delightful.  (It’s terrific, too–both visimage and poem.)  I hope when my brain is working better to say something more cogent about it.  Meanwhile, I’m grateful to have ssomething I like as much to fill this entry with.  I’m as sleepy/ blodgy as ever, by the way, but yesterday I got 400 words of my next column for Small Press Review done, and I expect to get another 400 or more done on it today, so I’m not quite non-functional.  And I do feel mildly optimistic about existence.

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Entry 700 — A Still Life by John Vieira

Friday, March 30th, 2012

When people wonder if anyone in the group of artists I’m associated with is at the level of–say–Ginsberg, Frank O’Hara, Berryman (as Geof Huth recently did in a return comment to one of mine at his blog the other day), one of the artists I think of who seems to me to make such wondering absurd (here as poet and visimagists rather than as visual poet) is John Vieira: there are at least ten of us equal or better than the two major minor poets and one minor major poet mentioned.  Yes, I include myself, even though I do realize that one cannot properly evaluate one’s own work since much of what one thinks one put into it may not be there for others (even if helped to see it).  Or flaws one is sure one didn’t put into it may be there for others.  Alas, my work isn’t considered worth showing up by the establishment, and my friends are all polite, so I’ll probably never learn the truth.

Anyway, here’s a sample of John’s recent work, a package of which arrived in the mail today, just in time to give me something related to poeticks for this entry.  I was going to write about a cat.  I still will, but not today.

One reason I love this still life of John’s is that I couldn’t quickly figure out what seemed so good about it.  It’s pears as I don’t believe anyone else has ever captured them, but there’s more to it than that.  Something of haiku simplicity and depth is there.  The pears seems to me to just tumble off the line John has rendered them out of into being, too deliciously quickly to obscure one another.  John’s poem about them matches their simplicity, and heightens the spirit of the drawing without repeating it.

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Entry 678 — Koppanized Thunder & Moonlight

Thursday, March 8th, 2012

My trifle the other day inspired Marton Koppany to come up with something (to me) much more interesting:

“Distant Thunder, Sentient Moonlight,” he calls it, using all my words, which means I can sue him for every cent of the millions he makes from the poem–except copyrights don’t cover minimalist poems . . . or titles!  Phooey.  Anyway, he sent me his poem at a good time: once again, I wasn’t sure what to put in my latest danged entry. 

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Entry 673 — “Mathemaku for Basho”

Saturday, March 3rd, 2012

I’m not sure when I made this mathemaku–two or three years ago, is my guess. I’ve probably posted it before, but this is a touched up, slightly altered new version:

 

It’s built around a famous haiku by Basho: “on a withered branch/ a crow has settled;/autumn nightfall.”  The Japanese in my rendering translates as “autumn fnightfall.”  My divisor comes out of who-knows-where, but my remainder alludes to a distant sail in a rendering of a Chinese poem by Ezra Pound.  My quotient is a fragment of a map of Norwalk Harbor on Long Island Sound overlaid with portions of a Sam Fancis painting severely reworked in Paint Shop.  The sub-dividend product consists of the SamFrancisfied Harbor in full, and the background graphics are also alterations of portions of the Francis painting.  Fadings, fragmentations, disappearings, endings . . .

I don’t consider this one of my A works, but would be satisfied if all my works seemed as good to me as it.

 

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Entry 668 — A Visit to Haiku Canada Review

Monday, February 27th, 2012

 

Here’s a visual haiku I like from the latest issue of Haiku Canada Review (Volume 6, Number1):

Another haiku I liked was in a letter to Haiku Canada Review from Dina E. Cox:

                                             new snow
                                             I almost forget
                                             our quarrel

One last haiku I want to mention so I can make a negative remark is this, by Marshall Hryciuk:

                                    smudge of cloud
                                    boat’s murmur
                                    lost in the waves

My negative remark is not about Marshall’s poem, which I like a lot, but about the renku, an example of which Marshall’s poem begins. I can’t remember ever reading one that didn’t fairly quickly pall on me, although I’ve certain read ones which, like this one, were full of good and sometimes excellent material. I think it too difficult for a renku to stick closely enough to a particular topic (and it needn’t be a narrow one) for me to feel I have to hit my appreciation’s restart button too often. I believe, no doubt arrogantly, that the many people who like poems that jump around, lack the ability intensely to appreciate sufficiently to have trouble easing from one nice image to an unrelated nice image. Renku “stanzas” Of course, many of the best poems seem at first to lack what some would call inexorability and should be grazed at first rather than gobbled.  A renku’s “stanzas,” if any good, are too strong too allow an engagent like me to do that for more than five or six of them.

There were a lot of other good haiku in the issue.  Anyone interested in the form really should become a member of Haiku Canada.  (Note: you don’t have to be Canadian.)

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