lynne asks:
today’s topic, is dual part. (1) here’s a poet* whose work i’m not so familiar with and who is now for being somewhat inaccessible. He’s purposefully so because he believes (as i do) that there’s little point in communicating something that the reader already knows. that’s not communicating really, it’s scoring points for having access to the same experience or language or the same street. now unlike Ashberry i’m not really hung up on being obscure but i do think that we should be trying to communicate, really communicate. i think that this is our job as poets, (as Jai and I were discussing at the intensive this afternoon), to pull a strand out of the obvious discussion and explore it intellectually and emotionally or philosophically. say for instance you write the poem about the break up but instead of writing a poem about how the ex is an asshound (i mean, c’mon! whose ex isn’t?) do you take a risk and write about why you’re lingering in the place where the relationship stopped? do you explore that distance, what lives in that place? do you look at the nature of the continuum? what’s at the other end? ok, that part might be blather but what i’m curious about is whether or not you think you do that with your poems. honestly. do you take the poem as an opportunity to say something that isn’t obvious, that hasn’t been said, are you writing the 600th middle passage poem and did those who went overboard into the undertow know that down below there would be no more chains? if they did? are you telling us something that we didn’t know about that or did Saul really have the last word? i think this is part (2).
i think that this concept of “being original” stunted my growth early on as a writer.
i set everybody on such a high bar and thought the only way i could distingiush myself from the other voices on the open mic was to come out with the most “profound shit” possible. any time that an idea came into my head, i would analyze it to the most minute detail for fear that i was borrowing from someone or saying something that someone else already said (whether i heard it at the 13 open mic, read it in some anthology or THINK that it was associated with any previous writing)
even as my voice was starting to take shape and some individual elements began to emerge, i was stifled with my percieved obligation to continually add to the canon. this continued for months until i had a sit down wioth omar & ed and the laid it down for me
“you are too busy trying to sound like what you think you should sound like versus just being yourself. stop trying to prove that you are a ‘writer’ and just be a writer”
that sitdown gave me more liberties to be as individual as possible in my writing and let me touch some often broached topics (specifically, my current fascination with the “sorta rican vs nuyorican” topic) with out fear tht i was doing myself a disservice.
bottom line- a car is a car. it has four wheels, it accelerates, it brakes, it gets you from place to place but if nobody ever bothered to refine that concept and try to add their own distinct signature, we would still be driving around in a Model T and never know what a Louts Espirit looked or felt like (not like I know what it looks or feels like but im just sayin)
i dont know if i am saying something never said before, i am going to frankly assume not. i think my life is pretty boring and not so spectacular. so it wouldnt surprise me if someone told me that they heard that same exact poem before. it would wound me, but not surprise me. but know that i mention it, i do get a lot of folks that tell me “i want there but i’ve been to where you’ve been” maybe repeating the stories is then a good thing, if it helps people get through this life knowing that they have some company in their misery. i dont know.
let’s get a lil specific and call it a day-
> philosophically. say for instance you write the poem about the break up but instead of writing a poem about how the ex is an asshound (i mean, c’mon! whose ex isn’t?)
… anybody that has broken your heart should be pounded into the earth and then have an archeology poem written about it
do you take a risk and write about why you’re lingering in the place where the relationship stopped?
… i think i am in the process of doing that now in prose form
do you explore that distance, what lives in that place?
… the moment. that one shiny space where the plate slips out your
hand and you say
“ohshitmymomisgonnakickmyassthatishermostfavoriteplateandimgonnabetheassmunchthatletsitbreak”
and the plate is still in mid air. when you can grab a situation and be able to explore it in all its elements (time, spatial, spiritual, etc) with both the inside and outside viewpoint, you’ve made some poetry
do you look at the nature of the continuum?
… all the time. even chaos is not random.
what’s at the other end?
… nothing concrete. only perception. its our job as writers to shape that perception
ok, that part might be blather but what i’m curious about is whether or not you
think you do that with your poems.
… i have on a few occasions more often than not i fail very badly but i figures its like baseball- if i can hit 3 out of ten, im an all star
honestly. do you take the poem as an opportunity to say something that isn’t obvious, that hasn’t been said, are you writing the 600th middle passage poem and did those who went overboard into the undertow know that down below there would be no more chains?
… see opening statement. i still think i am “unremarkable”
if they did? are you telling us something that we didn’t know about that or did Saul really have the last word?
… i think what i am trying to say is the no one will ever have the last word. we are just syllables in a much larger conversation
* an article on John Ashberry was also sent with this. ya can read it here