Contemporary

I was warned about this book, that I’d be quoting from it. I’m not even far into it and I’m nodding and mmhmmming and all. I stopped and re-read this passage a couple times and it pertains to a lot of other discussions I’ve been in on over the years. You can substitute your own medium/passion/art/craft for poetry/poem/poet etc.

But perhaps you would argue that, since you want to be a contemporary poet, you do not want to be too much under the influence of what is old, attaching to the term the idea that old is old hat — out-of-date. You imagine you should surround yourself with the modern only. It is an error. The truly contemporary creative force is something that is built out of the past, but with a difference.

Most of what calls itself contemporary is built, whether it knows it or not, out of a desire to be liked. It is created in imitation of what already exists and is already admired. There is, in others words, nothing new about it. To be contemporary is to rise through the stack of the past, like the fire through the mountain. Only a heat so deeply and intelligently born can carry a new idea into the air. — Mary Oliver, A Poetry Handbook

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Day three NaPoWriMo

From a few lines jotted down before doing yesterday’s poems. Tomorrow the haiku and the NaPoWriMo should match up again.

the tears that carve us deepest
run down inner walls to dark pools
Streamlets that run in inky caves
no light tipping the smallest ripple,
the dark smoothing all
but the quiet and endless murmurings,
the still and endless sighing.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

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C – I’m just needing a good cry

Turn on old TV:
I’m just needing a good cry
pass me the tissues.

When news stabs my heart
I’ll be needing a good cry
to let go the pain.

Maybe a movie
(I’m just needing a good cry)
and a glass of port.

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Day Two, NaPoWriMo

The start of April is enough to make anyone a little confused, but somehow in posting that just-pre-April-first poem, I confused myself as to whether I was on day the first, day the second etc. So I’m trying hard to rein it all back in. One more little re-alignment and we should be good. In the meanwhile, today, April second, counts as Day the Second of NaPoWriMo and so says everyone else.

I’m Just Needing A Good Cry

I’m just needing a good cry
to let loose the chest pain,
untie the hurt behind the eyes,
to rest the stabbed heart
overflowing with the injustice
and evils of the world.
An old movie, something black and white,
where the heroine despairs
but the love of her life returns
and saves the day, the town, the end.
The tears flow down
without embarrassment.
The tissues mount up in the trash
for a few minutes, an hour, two.
The pain is someone else’s
fictional, clear, defined
and fixable
and now, comforted and set right,
I throw away the last tissue,
push back my shoulders
and stare back the void.

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Today in the car, The Battle of the Pellenor Fields

Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor! — Theoden giving his speech before the battle

I’m still listening to the unabridged Lord of the Rings, mostly during my commute. I listened to a large chunk of The Two Towers while flying to and from New Zealand. I’ve really enjoyed the build up to the coming battles. Like Pippin, I felt the crush of inaction and looked for the relief of some starting blow.

Here’s to clean starts!

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