On the Lyrical Eve

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Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven
is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.
Matthew 13:52 [ESV]

This will be my second year posting a poem per day during April for National Poetry Writing Month aka NaPoWriMo.

I must qualify my participation in this lyrical conflagration; I am bringing forth poems already written but never posted—which causes me to consider my poetic rationale: spontaneous gush vs. obsessive workmanship.

I used to believe that creative souls produce their most authentic work in a frenzied flow of inspiration. This is the modern myth of the Artist as oracle or prophet; a being so special she/he just HAS to get it out there in one inspired unburdening. To alter it is to make it less authentic; rather like vomiting or excretion, no?  But as I grew up and reconsidered things, I moved away from this model. I realized that derivative techniques like collage, “found poetry“, surrealist shock-art, dadaist mockery of previous paradigms and the ironic take on a well-known theme are all good fun, but in the end too easy. This approach cheapens the creative discourse and eventually tries to turn art into a “happening”, poetry into “automatic writing”, music into nihilistic cacophony, and so on.

Stream-of-consciousness dribbles, rants and visionary diatribes often (though not always) make for boring art; we are reminded that we have seen it many times before. Some do it very well—that is sure. I like surrealistic collage and quirky spontaneous juxtaposition, don’t get me wrong; but as a steady diet it will leave you artistically malnourished. We can’t all be dadaists or minimalist mystics . . . or even Zen haikuists. The other approach to art stresses craftsmanship and mastery and goes against the model of “Artist as mystically-inspired Other” which has been foisted upon us since the beginning of Modernism in the late 19th century.

So I confess—I am not really writing one-a-day for April. I am bringing out of my coffers amateur jewelry set with merely semi-precious stones. I have, however, been reworking, refining, polishing, and finishing these adornments for my loyal Connectees. They have been faithfully and obsessively crafted.

I invite you to read my poetry over the next 30 days. And remember
you have the RIGHT
to be offended !

Anti NaPoWriMo

NaPoWriMo 2015

As an alternative to National Poetry Month, I propose that we have an International Anti-Poetry month. As part of the activities, all verse in public places will be covered over—from the Statue of Liberty to the friezes on many of our government buildings. Poetry will be removed from radio and TV (just as it is during the other eleven months of the year). Parents will be asked not to read Mother Goose and other rimes to their children but only … fiction. Religious institutions will have to forego reading verse passages from the liturgy and only prose translations of the Bible will recited, with hymns strictly banned. Ministers in the Black churches will be kindly requested to stop preaching. Cats will be closed for the month by order of the Anti-Poetry Commission. Poetry readings will be replaced by self-help lectures. Love letters will have to be written only in expository paragraphs. Baseball will have to start its spring training in May. No vocal music will be played on the radio or sung in the concert halls. Children will have to stop playing all slapping and counting and singing games and stick to board games and football.

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Copyright notice: ©1999 by Charles Bernstein

I Often Wonder

 

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what I am doing wrong (poetically)?

I write from the heart and post my best –
then notice how other blogs get lots of likes for seeming tripe…

Do I have to feed TwitFace and offer a FaceGram share?
Did I neglect to check the box on some vapid social media setting?

What the holy lyrical hell has blogging come to?
Is asking fellow word-addicts to READ what I write too much?

It only confirms my suspicion that CONTENT has taken a reluctant back seat to insta-digestibility.

Please advise.