Entry 33 — Yesterday’s Poem « POETICKS

Entry 33 — Yesterday’s Poem

Here’s yesterday’s image again:

17Aug07B

It’s one of my mathemaku, of course.    I’ve actually been working industriously  on it, trying get it right enough to submit to some sort of  anthology Nico Vassilakis and Crag Hill are putting together.   The version above is a recent revision of my first draft of 2007, a variation on “Frame One” of my Long Division of Poetry series.

17Aug07D-light

“Frame One” is similar to the top image except that its divisor is “words.”  It had long bothered me because (and make sure to write this down, students, because it’s an excellent example of the way I think about my poems) its claim was that “words” squared (basically–although it’s really distorted words, or words told slant. times regular words) happened to equal an image having to do with summer rain.  Why that and not, say, a Pacific sunset?   Obviously, the quotient times the divisor could equal anything.  That, I didn’t want.  Off and on I thought about this, but could think of no way to take care of it.  Until a couple of days ago, when I finally concentrated for more than a few minutes on it.  I came up with several pretty good solutions, one of them changing everything in the poem but the sub-dividend product (the image).

My final solution (I hope) resulted in the above poem.  All I did was add “memories of a long-ago summer day” to the quotient.  That assured that the sub-dividend product would have to do with summer–that it would be, that is, a visual poem about summer.  And, as a poem, it would be poetry.

No doubt in due course I’ll think of something else I find illogical about it and want to revise it again.  For now, though, I’m happy with it.

Oh, I’ve made several changes to the main image in it, too.  One was to combat the darkness in the top version (which wasn’t in it until I put it out here).  I’m as fussy about getting my graphics looking the way I want them as I am about everything else in a poem–except the choice of font, and things I can’t do anything about with my equipment, like density of resolution.

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Michael Bartholomew-Biggs « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Michael Bartholomew-Biggs’ Category

Entry 1264 — A Quasi-Haiku

Saturday, November 9th, 2013

The very first poem in the Bridges 2013 Poetry Anthology (Tesselations Publishing, Phoenix, 2013), Michael Bartholemew-Biggs’s, “Taylor’s Theorem,” which I’ve been invited to review, bothered me because I thought he was calling it a haiku.  Here it is:

If we knew it all
for just a single moment
we’d hold the future

I was going make my standard point about 5/7/5 not being required for a haiku, and not being enough to make a text a haiku when I reread Bartholomew-Biggs’s title for the sequence of which “Taylor’s Theorem” was just one of seven poems and saw he was calling those poems “quasi-haiku.”  In any event, I liked it and the rest of his sequence, particularly a sort of quasi-haiku diptych, “Ill Conditioning”:

Catastophists say
one butterfly’s wingbeats can
switch drought to monsoon.
Catastrophe spreads
through some computations from
one decimal’s doubt.

I’m quoting these partly because I like them, but also because they and many of the other poems in the anthology strike me as what I’m calling “idea-poems” as opposed to “image-poems,” which I consider an interesting division to ponder, and will, with results to show you eventually, I hope.

 

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Entry 469 — A Personal Problem « POETICKS

Entry 469 — A Personal Problem

 

My standard arguments against the application of the term, “visual poetry,” to works without words, or without words that contribute significantly to their central aesthetic meaning have long been: (1) expanding the coverage of the term to just about any conceivable somebody or other wants to call a visual poem–which, of course, renders it worthless as a tool of description; and (2) it breaks with the practice of several thousand years of considering poetry a literary art, and therefore requiring words; why change a meaning so drastically that’s worked so well for so long?  With regard to (2) let me add that, yes, the meaning of “poetry” was expanded to included free verse, and just about all such terms need to be at least a little flexible, but free verse poems continued to use the majority of devices that metrical verse did, and remained a literary art (and as such, I claim, continued to achieve its most important effects in the verbal area of the human brain, not elsewhere in the brain, and certainly not elsewhere in the brain and not in the verbal area of the brain).

I have a third problem with what I consider the misuse of the term, though–a personal one.  It is that as people encounter works like many of those in the new (excellent) collection at Illuminated Script: 30 Years of Visual Poetry & Intermedia that are called “visual poems” although they are without aesthetically significant words or even textual elements and are thus conditioned not to expect anything called a visual poem to be verbally meaningful. Ergo, unless I call my combinations of words and graphics “visual poems containing significant words,” those encountering them will take them as perhaps pleasant designs but not trouble to work out what they much more importantly are due to their words. In short, my own works will suffer because of the way others mislabel theirs.

True, few will care about my works even after alerted to the fact that the words in them are not just graphically-designed into them.  Still . . .

6 Responses to “Entry 469 — A Personal Problem”

  1. karl kempton says:

    note term in title– intermedia

  2. Ed Baker says:

    SHE
    walking down Houston
    in a wet-dress clinging
    to that image with-in
    & with-out
    in a single word:

    pure-poetry-in-motion

    not a single need/want to cut-&-paste

  3. Bob Grumman says:

    I admit I was thinking of your show as a collection of visual poetry, Karl. I fear most people will mistake it as such. But my problem is not with it but with the extremely wide-spread notion, which I fear your introduction to your show does little to address, that an artwork need not have words or even textual elements to be a visual poem.

    Ed: a poem can be a metaphor for a woman but it can’t be a woman.

  4. Ed Baker says:

    yeah & thank Gawd
    (whoever she may be)

    for the difference

    or

    in the immortal words of

    (what’s her name) :
    “I never saw a poem as lovely as a tree”

    the last time I kissed “her” I got a mouth-full of wet oil-based paint
    of
    a Blood-Red persuasion

    so

    I called her bluff and named her DIOTIMA

    525 pages later she turned from ink into stone …

    full moon
    I think I’m in love
    with a rock

  5. karl kempton says:

    bob,

    given the wide spectrum of modern and post modern art, your demands are older than 100 years in the rear view mirror. look at art and music on the experimental frontiers: single colored canvases over 50 years ago, music scores of one note hours long over 50 years ago. films of a building days long . . .

    u forget poetic gesture (jest), accent, etc not being words but very poetic. u r being very literal and o so very non visual. can not fractured sounds of speech be made visual with broken letters not words . . .

    also y i am now using “sound illumination” to get away from nit pickers.

    is not the actual heading of the entire collection “illuminated script”? it is a door wide open to possibilities to illuminate mind(s).

  6. Bob Grumman says:

    Just saw this post of your today, Karl. Not sure what you’re talking about. You have a bad habit of avoiding specifics.

    Of course “fractured sounds of speech” can “be made visual.” So what? If they do nothing semantic, they are not poetry, by everyone’s definition of poetry for thousands of years. Sure, gestures can be “poetic.” So can kangaroos. Which means any word can be used metaphorically. But in verosophy the purpose is to define things objectively, unmetaphorically. Only then can words be used to communicate knowledge.

    I continue not to see what “sound illumination” or “illuminated script” mean–without definitions attached.

    –Bob

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Marton Koppany « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Marton Koppany’ Category

Entry 182 — “Dash No. 1,” by Koppany

Saturday, August 7th, 2010

This is one of the three pieces Marton Koppany sent me recently.   I’m posting it now (1) to take care of another entry with minimum effort, (2) because I like it a lot, and (3) to allow me to babble a bit more on my favorite topic, What Visual Poetry Is.

As those who know my work as a critic, I contend that a text cannot be a poem unless it has words that are of significant importance to what the text does aesthetically.  This piece contains no words, as most people understand the term.  Nonetheless, I’m prepared to claim it to be a poem.  Clearly, this piece is on what I call the borblur–the borderline between conceptual visimagery and visual poetry.  I call it the later because I believe all punctuation marks (and similar symbols such as those used in chemistry or mathematics) can act as words in certain unusual situations.

Specifically, when a punctuation mark in a work is sufficiently emphasized to make it difficult for someone “reading” the work to treat it as nothing more than a punctuation mark, it will become a word.  That is, it will not be skimmed through with little or no conscious notice–actually, with no vaonscous verbal notice, as with the dash I just used–but pondered consciously, possibly even indentified consciously as what it is, it will become a word.  It will denote as well as, or even perhap instead of, acting purely punctuationally.  In the case of the work above, I claim most people–at least most people familiar with the territory–will read the dash in it (even without the title of the piece), as “dash, short-cut,” then realize sensorily how it is making something rather large disappear, or realize how it works.  A simple but unexpected metaphor visualized.

The pun in English of “dash” as a verb meaning to go in a hurry is a very nice extra, entirely verbal extra.

Note: my only problem with the piece is its title, which I think too overt.  I’d prefer something more like “Punctuation Poem No. 63, or the like.  “Mountain subjected to Punctuation?”  No, but something like that, but more intelligent. . . .

Entry 36 — 2 by Koppany from #672

Monday, December 7th, 2009

.

Csend-Sinc

Csend-Sinc

TheAnds

The Ands

Nothing else.  I’m hoping to get going again on columns for Small Press Review. A deadline is approaching and I’d like to get ahead.  It’d be nice, too, to start getting real work done.

Entry 31 — Old Blog Entries 663 through 670

Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009

In #663, I presented my Odysseus Suite–but the reproduction is too crude for me to re-post it here.   My next entry featured this, by Endwar:

TenByTenAs I announced when I first posted this, I am hoping to publish an anthology of mathematical poems, like this one, so if you have one or know of one, send me a copy of it, or tell me about it.

#665 had this by Marton Koppany, which I have to post here because it was dedicated to ME:

Odysseus

Hey, it’s mathematical, too.  The next entry, whose number I fear to state, concerned this:

Bielski-Haiku-BW

This is from Typewriter Poems, an anthology published by Something Else Press and Second Aeon back in 1972. It’s by Alison Bielski, An English woman born in 1925 whose work I’m unfamiliar with. I find this specimen a charmer . . . but am not sure what to make of it. Three lines, as in the classic haiku. The middle one is some sort of filter. Is “n” the “n” in so much mathematics? If so, what’s the poem saying? And where does the night and stars Hard for me not to assume come in? Pure mathematics below, a sort of practical mathematics above? That idea would work better for me if the n’s were in the lower group rather than in the other. Rather reluctantly, I have to conclude the poem is just a texteme design. I hope someone more clever sets me right, though. (I’m pretty sure I’ve seen later visio-textual works using the same filter idea–or whatever the the combination of +’s. =’s and n’s is, but can’t remember any details.)

It was back to my lifelong search for a word meaning “partaker of artwork” in #667–but I now believe “aesthimbiber,” which I thought of in a post earlier than #667, I believe, but dropped, may be the winner of my search.

Next entry topic was about what visual poets might do to capture a bigger audience.  I said nothing worth reposting on a topic going nowhere because visual poets, in general, are downright inimical to doing anything as base as trying to increase their audience.   One suggestion I had was to post canonical poems along with visual poems inspired by them, which I mention because in my next entry, I did just that, posting a Wordsworth sonnet and a visual poem I did based on and quoting part of it–and don’t re-post here because of space limitations.  I wrote about the two in the final entry in this set of ten old blog entries.

 

Entry 309 — Necropetry « POETICKS

Entry 309 — Necropetry

Reading a post about some scholarly literary project, I came up with “necropetry” (neh CRAH peh tree) as the poetry that academia spends ninety percent of the time it devotes to poetry.  Poetry by the dead.  It spends nine point nine percent of that time on “Neonecropetry” (poetry by clones of the dead) and point one percent of it on contemporary columbetry.  I do think academia should spend more time of necropetry than on contemporary columbetry.  I merely think the gap between the two should be less.  And I see no point in its devoting more than one percent of its time, if that, on neonecropetry.  (NEE oh neh CRAH peh tree–nice word, actually, in spite of how bad it looks on the page.)

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Hanne Darboven « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Hanne Darboven’ Category

Entry 1093 — Thoughts Regarding Minimalism

Saturday, May 4th, 2013

I suppose the minimalist artwork below is not bad, but seeing it in the latest issue of ARTnews depressed me, reminding me that minimalist painters, even mediocre ones like Hanne Darboven seemed from this one example to be, were continuing to make big bucks forty or more years after the birth of minimalism while someone like me is making the most money of his life after fifty years or so of adulthood because of food stamps. . . .

Note from 1 February 2014 when I was reviewing the past year.  Apparently the computer problem mentioned in my next entry screwed up this entry.  The reproduction of the Darboven visimage got deleted and all my further comments.  No doubt they had to do with the following specimens of much better specimens of minimalism I found by bp Nichol (the top one) and Irving Weiss the other two:

WaterPoem5

 

 

WaterIntoWordX

 

WateryWords

 

I’m sure I had fascinating things to say about them.

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Entry 1091 — Waves

Thursday, May 2nd, 2013

I had all kinds of trouble getting the following images into this post, and I’m exhausted, so won’t say much about them until tomorrow.  I will say that I consider the top one an example of what has been wrong with the arts world for the past 40 or more years.

Darboven01x.
WaterPoem5

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WaterIntoWord

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WateryWords

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March « 2010 « POETICKS

Archive for March, 2010

Entry 122 — Line 12, Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18

Monday, March 29th, 2010

My first  question about line 12 is whether we should take “to time” to go with “eternal lines” or with “thou grow’st.”  That is, is it “eternal lines to time” or “thou grow’st to time.”  the first comes closer to making sense to me but doesn’t make it well enough.  Vendler is somewhat interesting about about this sonnet, by the way, but does not offer a close reading of it, and says nothing about line 12.

When I asked about the line at the poetry discussion group, New-Poetry, I got some good responses as to the gist of the line but they weren’t as specific as I wanted.  For instance, what I really wanted to know was what “to” and “grow’st.” mean.  I’m sure “lines” must mean lines of poetry, with hints of lineage and maybe lines in faces.  And the line is saying the addressee has been immortalized by poetry.  But how can the lines be “to” time?  A poem to X usually is taken as a poem addressed to X and this one is addressed to a person, “thee.”  I can see “grow’st” as (sort of) having to do with increasing in stature.  Also as actually growing due to the summer
in the addressee’s day although that seems awkward to me.

Brian Hawkins suggested a reading of “time” as “effectively meaning eternity, i.e. you’ll keep growing till eternity)” and thus to be taken as part of “to time thous grow’st” rather than “eternal lines to time.”  Robin Hamilton went with this, in part because the he found a strong metrical pause after “lines,” which I can’t say I do.

Later Brian added  his thought that ”to’ means ‘into’, ‘grow’st’ means ‘continues growing’ (not necessarily getting bigger, but growing, as things do in summer), and time means, rather than eternity as I said earlier, more simply ‘the future.’  So that ‘to time thou grow’st’ means, more or less, ‘you keep growing into the future.’ ”

Robin then, having consulted Abbott, A Shakespearean Grammar (1870), http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.03.0080;layout=;loc=1;query=toc), interestingly suggested that “to” might mean “against,” which would allow the lines to be “against” time, or a means of defeating time; or the addressee could be thought to be growing or flourishing against (or despite) time.

Robin also gave this from the OED in support of his view:

25. Expressing impact (cf. 1, 5a) or attack: At, against, upon.

Janet Blankfield, going with this, wondered if (battle) ‘lines’ could be something to do with a military response to ‘the enemy’, time.  I like this but find it a stretch.

I’m not fully convinced that “to” can be thought to mean “against,” but would be pleased if it did, for it would settle the problem of what the line precisely means quite well.  In the usage examples in the OED like “If eny man have a quarrel to a nother” “to” could, it seems to me, readily be taken as simply indicating the object of, in this case, a quarrel–the same way “quarrel with another” would (and few, I think, would take “with” ever to mean “against.”  Today.  Maybe then.

So I remain uncertain about the line.  Booth has “line 12, where the beloved, bound to time the destroyer, grows to–fuses with–time, as a grafted scion grows to–and thus along with–a tree.  I find this forced.  I think a metaphor like that either needs to be clearer or fore-shadowed, or shown in some way by the context that it plausibly could be there.

I also thought (or read someone else who suggested) the addressee could be growing to time as to full size–that is, the addressee is becoming time.  But that makes no sense, to me.

According to Robin, Kerrigan (Penguin) and Duncan-Jones (Oxford) both agree that the primary meaning of “lines” is ‘lines of poetry’, with a possible secondary meaning of ‘lineage’.  There are also the lines that Time draws on the human face (in 19: 10, “draw no lines there,” which Duncan-Jones notes).

“Overall,” Robin surmises, “the line would seem to mean (Death shall not brag) ‘when you grow older’ (so long as men breath and see).”  But there’d be no reason for Death to brag he’s captured the addressee while the addressee were still alive.  The context seems to require the line to say that the addressee will still be alive and beautiful after he dies, so (to confuse everyting all the more) “When in eternal lines to time” might be some kind of expression for “when you have left life for eternity.”

Someone (Robin?) made the point that “the line reads succinctly & clearly without ‘to time’ and that should tell us something.  It may be cop out to say so, but?maybe the ‘to time’ operates as a quick bridge built by the Bard to fill out the meter.”  I like that.

My final comment was that I leaned toward “thou growest to time” and hope it was a standard phrase of the time that meant something like take a place in a culture’s permanent memory or the like.

Entry 121 — Definition of Scientific Account

Thursday, March 18th, 2010

Many of my thoughts and hypotheses keep getting hammered for being unscientific, including my poetics (which I consider definitely scientific, which is why so many poets hate it).  So, here once again, although newly formed, is my definition of what a scientific account of some aspect of reality is:

An account of some aspect of reality is scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. It contradicts no law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. No data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it.

4. It is falsifiable.

Note: satisfying the four criteria only makes an account scientific; it doesn’t necessarily make it valid or of any importance.  Moreover, it will always be temporary since new data can always show up.

Because many highly regarded accounts of aspects of nature do not satisfy my four criteria but are accepted by a great deal of experts in the fields they are concerned with, such as physics’s big bang theory, which some facts contradict (the ones requiring the further hypothesis of the existence of unobserved “dark matter”) and which breaks certain laws of nature (the ones requiring such certain laws of nature to be different when the big bang occurred),  I also have a definition of what I call “Near-Scientific Accounts.”

An account of some aspect of reality is near-scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. If it contradicts a law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers, the same consensus agrees that some end-around (like dark matter) is plausible.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. If some data accepted as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it, experts agree that some end-around is plausible.

4. It is falsifiable.

An account of some aspect of reality that is neither scientific nor near-scientific is unscientific.

Okay, in a few hours I should be an a Greyhound bus on my way to South Carolina.  I hope to post at least once from there.  If not, expect a new entry around April Fools’ Day.

Entry 120 — Responding to Narratives of Misery

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

Topic: why some people like narratives about miserable people.   A variation on why people like tragedy–as, on the surface, they should not, if my claim that the object of art is to give pleasure is true.

1. The standard answer: one experiencing the narrative experiences the beauty of the ugly material’s aesthetic expression.  The artist provides a taming order to horror, and pleasurable details, for instance, as with Macbeth’s famous “sound and fury.”

2. A simple psychological answer: it results in an “Ah, I’m not alone!” for someone empathetic who is exposed to it.

3. Another obvious one: it produces in the person experiencing it the kind of happiness one gets from looking through a window of a snug, secure house at a blizzard.

Entry 119 — Defining Visual Poetry Again

Tuesday, March 16th, 2010

In a month or so, John Bennett’s and my selection for a gallery of visual poems in The Pedestal should be appearing.  John and I each will be providing a preface for it, as I understand it.  In any case, I started thinking about mine last night.  Once again I returned to my obsession with defining “visual poetry.”  This time, though, I wasn’t concerned with my main definitional obsession, the requirement of visual poetry to contain words, but with a lesser obsession, the requirement that a visual poem be more than an illustrated poem, or poetically captioned illustration–because of an excellent submission I got consisting of several arresting visual images, each with a haiku running across its bottom.

Dogma#1: a visual poem must consist of a significant graphic element significantly interacting with a significant verbal element.  Dogma #2: a reader of the poem must experience the poem’s graphic and verbal elements simultaneously.  There will come a day when neurophysiologists will be able to detect this simultaneous experience.  Thereupon we will have an objective way of determining whether a not a given work is a visual poem–for a given person.

This simultaneous experience seems to me the whole point of visual poetry, difficult though it be to provide it.   My “Nocturne” demonstrates how it is done, so that’s the poem I’ll be using as my “Editor’s Poem” for the gallery.  It’s based on the simple idea of dotting all the letters in “night” to suggest stars, then doing the same with “voice” to indicate a voice with stars in it.  Very sentimental, but a favorite of mine.  For some reason, though, I can’t find it in my computer files, so apparently have not yet saved it digitally.

Entry 118 — Geof Huth’s Collected Pwoermds

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I haven’t started my trip yet. My body conked out before I could–some kind of virus, I guess. So I’m still at home. Should be leaving in a couple of days.

I was feeling too lousy to post anything here for two or three days, and wouldn’t today, either, although I feel a lot better.   However, today I got a copy of Geof Huth’s NTST, the subtitle of which is the collected pwoermds of geof huth. It’s perfect for a blog entry because I can quote whole poems from it quickly, and because I found some pwoermds I can be quickly insightful about.   So, here’s one page:

an/atomy

shadowl

rayns

watearth

upond

psilence

These pwoerds are absolutely representative of the many (hundreds?) pwoermds in the collection, which I mention in case anyone suspects I chose them to show him at his very best.  Two thoughts: that he misspelled “psylence,” and that “shadowl” is such an especially good pwoermd that it ought to be on a page by iself.  The selections on this page are intended, I’m sure, to be stand-alones, but they also look like and work as a five-line poem.   That I find “sahdowl” better clearly by itself is ironic, for I’ve several times opined that while pwoermds could occasionally be terrific, they work best as part of longer poems.

Oddly, I find evidence for this (in my opinion) on the very next page of NTST:

Pebbleslight


stilllllife


I like it much better as “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Of course, with the title (and Geof defines pwoermds as one-word poems without a title), one still reads pebbles into the still life.  I just like the linkage closer.  I’d like a detail or two more, too–really, I’d like a full-scale haiku using “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Which is absolutely not to say I don’t extremely like the piece exactly as Geof has it.

Oh, NTST was published in England by if p then q (apparently not an offshoot of Geof’s dbqp press).  Its website is at www.ifpthenq.co.uk.

Entry 117 — Another Vacation

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

I don’t know how long this one will last–I need to go out of state to help out with one of my brothers, who is sick (as is his wife).  Will be very busy–and probably not have access to a computer.

Entry 116 — Finally Back

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

All I have today is a revision of my last mathemaku:

The title of the piece is “Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco’s 1436 Map of the World.”  I changed the previous quotient from “music” to a picture of a lute.  My reasoning was that “music” was too general; I wanted something that said “medieval.”  I’m satisfied with it now.

I’m a bit shocked to see how long it’s been since my last entry here.  I thought it’d only been four or five days.  I’m going to try to post more often now, maybe not daily but at least three or four times a week.  The past three days I’ve woken up feeling good.  I’ve been more productive though not as productive as I’d like to be.  Still, I’m out of the null zone I was in.

Part of the reason for that is that my bad leg (due apparently to sciatica) is better, although I still can’t run on it to any extent.  I’m optimistic that it will fully come around if I give it time and don’t play tennis again till I’m sure it’s okay.  Three times I played when it seemed okay but not right, and each time suffered during the next few days.

The pain pills I’m taking for the problem are probably (alas) the main reason I’m feeling so good psychologically.  Also contributing it the fact that I’m winning the game of Civilization I’m playing in!  I’ve never won it at the level I’m now playing it at.  This shouldn’t mean anything but it means a ridiculously lot!  Winning just about any kind of competition really zings me!

That’s it for now.  Hope to be back tomorrow.  Will definitely be back before the week ends.

praecisio « POETICKS

Posts Tagged ‘praecisio’

Entry 8 — Thoughts on Haiku

Monday, November 9th, 2009

A new Grummanism today, “constersense,” to go with an old one, “nonsense,” and one in between old and new, “nearsense.”

One item always worth taking a look at in the Haiku Canada Review is the page on which N. F. Noyes discusses haiku he likes.  One of them got me thinking about nonsense

.              the car I didn’t notice                              isn’t there

It’s by someone calling himself G. A. Huth.  About this Noyes says, “From a fourteenth century poet I quote: ‘Generally speaking, a poet requires some understanding of emptiness.’”

(An amusing comment to make in a discussion of the World-Expert in the praecisio.  See Geof’s blog for details on that if–shame on you–you don’t know what it is.)

Noyes goes on to say, “Here the sudden emptiness provides a strong “Aha!” experience, despite a seeming diregard for the haiku’s chief guideline of close observation, in ‘I didn’t notice.’”

(But I would contend that what the poet closely observed with his act of not noticing.)

Noyes was reminded of a haiku by Buson:

.                            Tilling the field:
.                       The cloud that never moved
.                            Is gone.

The other two haiku Noyes liked (as did I) are:

.                            a kicked can
.                            cartwheels
.                            into its echo                  –Jeffrey Winke

.                            transplanting
.                            four rose bushes
.                            transplanting bees       –Liz fenn


More on nonsense and related matters tomorrow, if I’m up to it.  (Final note: I at first mistyped Geof’ haiku as “the care I didn’t notice       isn’t there.”)

Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress « POETICKS

Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress

If I ever come to be seen worth wide critical attention as a poet, I should be easy to write about, locked into so few flourishes as I am, such as “the the” and–now in this piece, Basho’s “old pond.”  I was wondering whether I should go with “the bookshop’s mood or “a bookshop’s mood” when Basho struck.  I love it!

Just one word and a trivial re-arrangement of words, but I consider it major.  (At times like this I truly truly don’t care that how much less the world’s opinion of my work is than mine.)

We must add another allusion to my technalysis of this poem, describing it as solidifying the poem’s unifying principal (and archetypality), Basho’s “old pond” being, for one thing, a juxtaphor for eternity.  Strengthening its haiku-tone, as well.  But mainly (I hope) making the mood presented (and the mood built) a pond.  Water, quietude, sounds of nature . . .

Oh, “old” gives the poem another euphony/assonance, too.

It also now has a bit of ornamental pond-color.  Although the letters of the sub-dividend product are a much lighter gray on my other computer than they are on this one, the one I use to view my blog.

2 Responses to “Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress”

  1. Kevin Kelly says:

    I really like this one; it strikes me as very E.E. Cummings-inspired, and I love that guy. I think the use of gray is a good idea because it gives the “remainder” more punch at the end. I’m a bit confused on reading your description in which you keep talking about Basho’s pond, which I don’t see in evidence here … I’m thinking if I had seen an earlier version of this, or I was better versed in the Grummanverse, I would understand that. And finally, you won’t have to struggle between “the” or “a” bookshop’s mood soon, where there’s just one bookshop left. Just had to end that with a little (sad) humor!

  2. Bob Grumman says:

    Oh, boy, I get to explain! Nothing I love more. Basho comes in because of his famousest poem, which I’ve made versions of and written about a lot, the one that has the “old pond” a frog splashes into. My poem has an “old bookshop” that has a mood with depths a street enters like (I think) the pond’s water with depths the frog enters. But now that you bring it up, I guess the allusion is pretty hermetic.

    Glad you like it. I still do now that I’m looking at it again–although it strikes me as pretty weird.

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Entry 544 — Thoughts on “Skips” « POETICKS

Entry 544 — Thoughts on “Skips”

Today (25 October) I feel in the mood to knock out a few preliminary thoughts about Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino’s “Skips.”  Eventually I’ll try to work in some of his terms.  Right now, I’ll just go with first thoughts–well first attempts at analysis after having read the poem several times.  I’ll re-post the poem, with my comments interrupting it.

               Skips

               one bus,
               said of certain places

Here’s the first skip: “one bus” will not strike many readers as being something likely to be “said of certain places.” But it can make sense for places isolated so having only one bus in and out each day (or week?). In any case, an image of a bus stop entered my mind.

               which may, at sites, be
               or, for such as certain sites

26 October: At this point we can be sure we’re in what I call a syntax poem, which is a kind of language poem (in my poetics).   A syntax poem, to put it simply, a poem whose syntax is goofy.  Gregory, I’m sure, has a different name for it. “Logoclastic poem,” I think may be it. A terrific word (like so many of my neologies are, but suffering, like them, from being too idiosyncratic). Gregory would also consider his poem “cubistic,” which it can’t be, for what an artwork becomes cubistic mainly by showing a scene from two or more angles simultaneously, which words can’t do.  Gregory is probably presenting his scene like Stein presented many of hers, with fractional objective and subjective (often, to my taste, too subjective) descriptions repeated many times in varied form.   A kind of Jamesian hesitancy to be direct.  When effective–as here, I believe–it can make a commonplace scene take on enough obscurity to allow the reader the eventual joy of solving it.  Or coming close enough to doing that.

               a, saying, or, for standing
               a, may be holding places

I still feel like I’m at a bus stop, or maybe even in a bus station.  But, helped by later sections I’ve now read more than once, I find the poem discussing language, too.  One reason for that is that so many of these kinds of poems do just that.  But “saying” is what language does, as well as a word (or close to a word) for “so to speak.”  Using words or phrases in this double way is, of course, a primary activity of poets, but language poets tend to be more interested in doing it than other poets–enough to warp their poems’ syntax to help them do it.

At this juncture I’m taking a break until tomorrow.   Hey, I could say more, but I think I’ve given you students enough to think about for this session!  (Note: I can’t resist putting in another plug for the value of close readings–I find it as much fun to discover something in someone else’s poem, which I feel I’ve done here [for myself, at any rate], as it is suddenly to discover something I can use in a poem of my own that I’m working on.  I really feel sorry for those who can’t appreciate close readings.)

               and doubtless other combinations
               one bus.

               and if it is but agreeable
               a hand or glove or calendar

               as, he was
               but not in certain places

               which, when sounding
               just above, and, sounding just above

               are gone, or, for some time
               by rote or involuntary action

               between highest and lowest
               is present, and absent, is gone and when

               that aspect, to be events
               alike, in which they are alike

               between highest and lowest
               the features

               perceived or thought about
               seem suddenly, to fit

               also spelled insight or solution
               the use of, or, as means his present station

               and doubtless other combinations
               which are themselves

               his means
               the skin, the hair, the coat

               are fairly, then, it matches, either of the two
               in which, unfit variations

               are discarded
               are held at mutual right angles, say

               as when a new hat
               or sometimes used as synonyms

               is part
               or,

               as a rule, a new hat
               is considered of involuntary action

               or,
               in respect to suspended judgment

               in which, a measure of degree
               they are, so alike

               being highest, possible highest
               the skin, the hair, the coat

               an irrepressible action
               or

               due to lips
               and doubtless other combinations

               attained by involuntary action
               as when a new hat is considered part

               of one’s coat
               or rival, or station

.

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