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(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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I’ve brought back the above because one of my friends in visual poetry brought it up back-channel, inspiring the following beginning attempt at an explication (although it’s only mine, I have to emphasize, and I’m not being sarcastic):

A lot of what I do is surrealism: multiplications, for instance, that make surrealistic sense to me. The basic idea of the above is that a piano and all it represents (music, the creative process, self-expression, something to play, etc.) times a mountain and a fortress that is merged with the mountain and what it represents—power, unchangingness, seriousness, intimidation, etc., or the antithesis of what the piano represents, equals a painting of boats that represents a sea journey, but also a musical composition (theme and variation, a kind of fugue in spots–think of the boats as melodies), a game, happiness, as well as various associations with Paul Klee, from whom I stole the boats (although I’ve changed them)—also a progression from dimness into color. This journey, I contend, is similar to the brook’s journey to the spring flowers the brook’s water will nourish into being. All the journey of boats needs, surrealistically, exactly to equal the coming of spring, is the remainder, which is the word “mystery” made mysterious and added to by other words and elements—a magic word, you might say. I feel I’m ignoring scientific logic for emotional logic. Can’t help it, is my only defense. But I hope an engagent will find my dividend to be a pleasant short poem, and the graphic a pleasant picture—at least in its final larger size—and touched up.

A thought: what if someone played a mountain fortress on a piano, and the music that resulted came out as pictures? What would they look like? The whole idea is absurd, but . . .

Meanwhile, today I broke free of my egocentricity to come up with the Truly Brilliant, However Simple, Idea that I can use my new gallery (in my dentist’s waiting room) for exhibitions of works other than my own!  That way I could work up from the classics of visual poetry almost anyone would like to what I and my most advanced friends are doing in the field.  Basically, I have three walls.  What I think I may do is devote one to classics like Cummings’s falling leaf poem; the second to my earliest, most accessible visual poems, and the third to my “Odysseus Suite,” if I can get it to satisfy me, something I’m still working on but making progress, I think–and two other recent ones.  The one above and my “Seaside Mathemaku,” which several people have liked.

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A version of this was here recently, but this version is slightly different, and final, I hope–except that I intend to outline the Klee images in black. What excites me about it is that I have some good ideas for a commentary on it that I hope will reach people. I’m especially hoping Dr. Angela, my dentist, and/or her associates, will connect to it, and be good explaining it to any patient curious about it. Next will be my “Odysseus Suite”–also with an explanatory commentary. I think a great advantage of this show will be that I’ll be able to insert pieces one at a time, so will have time to make good choices, and work on accompanying materials.

So, things are going well for me right now–and at a good time–yesterday I learned all my three submissions (including the piece above) failed to make the cut into a 30-piece online exhbit.
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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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And here’s “The Best Investigations, No. 2,” my latest mathemaku:

I’m not sure whether I like it.  I just thought it appropriate to give science its due.  The quotient is what I’m unsure of.  I’m pretty sure I can fix it, if it needs fixing.

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I may have posted this before, and/or posted the much more elaborate, full color version of it I made . . . but now think too elaborate.

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I’m beginning to think this one is okay, after all.  One thing I’ve been meaning to point out in case any future students of poetry are ever drawn to my work is that I seem more and more lately to be recycling old images of mine–like the remainder in this piece, and the boats from Klee.  I consider this a step up, not down, because it’s a way of multiplying allusions.  It’s also a form of variations on themes.

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