Post by OscarWillebeest on Apr 28, 2008 9:22:55 GMT -5
"In most men there exists a poet who died young, whom the man survived." This is according to Sainte-Beuve, the French writer as quoted by Vincent van Gogh. Notice the specific use of the word most. Unfortunately fate has decreed that of late the most is absent more and more often, or that the poet in certain people seems to have abandoned said people, as it was not prepared to linger on in a decaying mind.
Yes, most of you never had any poet existing inside the you, whilst others fail to recognise that theirs died so long ago that its skeleton is turning into dust. Thus you utilize the mumbo-jumbo of a thesaurus, the drivel of abstract thought, or the nonsencical mutterings of your own deranged self-concocted inventions. Like a punch drunk boxer you do not realise that your best days are but a distant memory; like a journeyman you are unable to grasp that you never had, and never shall attain the ability to justify your childish pretensions of writing poetry.
Yes, you utilise all sorts of ways and means to fob off your inadequacies. In the stead of clearly stating your message or thoughts in a manner most obvious; you use subterfuge, or any means, except plain English, noming your method as some obscure modernistic means of delivering a sermon on the rebound. But, there is a better way, provided you have some talent: Lyric Poetry.
In the 6th century, BC, the lyric poets of Aeolis reflected the feelings of the gods and human dependance on them. Indeed they can be deemed as the true discoverers of indivualism and skepticism. Two of their number stand out: Alcaeus and the lady Sappho,head of the school of girls at Mytileneon on the island Lesbos. It was a literary circle sacred to Aphrodite, and amongst others they studied the technique of poetry.
Sappho was intensely interested in melodious verse, with a keen appreciation of nature, and the physical attributes of her pupils; erotically involving one another. Thus they composed verse about love, sorrow, streams and flowers, indicating the way towards the expression of the human senses in a manner leaving no sense of incomprehension.
Still it remains a fact that the non-lyrical poets deem themselves beyond criticism, accusing their detractors of not comprehending their so called "masterpieces." Which is hardly surprising, for it is quite acceptable to ascribe any meaning to the incomprehensible. But then, why cloak your meaning in the unfathomable when you supposedly want to share such with all of mankind?
After all, experience has taught, as has history, especially when one looks at the Irish instance, that great works are mostly produced when the artist is under personal duress. Thus it follows that the abstract dispoets should, in the interest of sanity, be forced into circumstances of great personal suffering, (like a sustained bollocking to the ears) until such time that they admit their inability to contribute anything of value to the art of poetry.
But that is not to say that there is no room in this life for the so called abstract poet, and it is quite possible that many striving scribes might well be of benefit to society whatever the obscurity of their writs. Thus can be achieved by holding up their inane twittering as examples of what the aspiring poets should refrain from becoming: blathering fools forcing their incomprehensibilities down the throats of an unsuspecting reader.
Yes, most of you never had any poet existing inside the you, whilst others fail to recognise that theirs died so long ago that its skeleton is turning into dust. Thus you utilize the mumbo-jumbo of a thesaurus, the drivel of abstract thought, or the nonsencical mutterings of your own deranged self-concocted inventions. Like a punch drunk boxer you do not realise that your best days are but a distant memory; like a journeyman you are unable to grasp that you never had, and never shall attain the ability to justify your childish pretensions of writing poetry.
Yes, you utilise all sorts of ways and means to fob off your inadequacies. In the stead of clearly stating your message or thoughts in a manner most obvious; you use subterfuge, or any means, except plain English, noming your method as some obscure modernistic means of delivering a sermon on the rebound. But, there is a better way, provided you have some talent: Lyric Poetry.
In the 6th century, BC, the lyric poets of Aeolis reflected the feelings of the gods and human dependance on them. Indeed they can be deemed as the true discoverers of indivualism and skepticism. Two of their number stand out: Alcaeus and the lady Sappho,head of the school of girls at Mytileneon on the island Lesbos. It was a literary circle sacred to Aphrodite, and amongst others they studied the technique of poetry.
Sappho was intensely interested in melodious verse, with a keen appreciation of nature, and the physical attributes of her pupils; erotically involving one another. Thus they composed verse about love, sorrow, streams and flowers, indicating the way towards the expression of the human senses in a manner leaving no sense of incomprehension.
Still it remains a fact that the non-lyrical poets deem themselves beyond criticism, accusing their detractors of not comprehending their so called "masterpieces." Which is hardly surprising, for it is quite acceptable to ascribe any meaning to the incomprehensible. But then, why cloak your meaning in the unfathomable when you supposedly want to share such with all of mankind?
After all, experience has taught, as has history, especially when one looks at the Irish instance, that great works are mostly produced when the artist is under personal duress. Thus it follows that the abstract dispoets should, in the interest of sanity, be forced into circumstances of great personal suffering, (like a sustained bollocking to the ears) until such time that they admit their inability to contribute anything of value to the art of poetry.
But that is not to say that there is no room in this life for the so called abstract poet, and it is quite possible that many striving scribes might well be of benefit to society whatever the obscurity of their writs. Thus can be achieved by holding up their inane twittering as examples of what the aspiring poets should refrain from becoming: blathering fools forcing their incomprehensibilities down the throats of an unsuspecting reader.