"Towards a blog poetics": cont'd

The January 6 to 12 blognoscenti posts generated the following sentences, ready to be added to our "Towards a blog poetics" text (see below). I'm beginning to see the sort of tongue-in-cheek reception of experimental poetry everywhere the primary document is turning into, with perhaps a further discussion in the works of the blog as the only hospitable place for it.

Again, I'm aiming for a standard 10-page long 'Intoduction', with about 12-13 sentences per page (or an Introduction of roughly 130 sentences or so).
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January 6 "I [We] alone can be grateful that genre, subject and individual poems are just a means of presentation, as if we're first witnessing the successful artist, poet and writer from several inconceivable points of view."

7 "The poet's arable couplet, minimalist and at bottom a mash-up, can still be entertaining."

8 "Perhaps the best known poem there is (or isn't) is, yes, a confession & if it'd wanted to try to get it right could follow the whole poem closely as an "End of the World" or the "Goddammit" type & continue to do so."

9 "Free to clear the tone or style of the intelligibles, you can go to the fields, the birds, like a deadbeat poet."

10 "Like faces on a canvas, stories and words that mean too many things & don't emanate from the village hearth, lie dead, even in early spring."

11 "More a contest for the best minds than a poem, a peep show of perpetual sequences and good only for fools, the experimental may be the most gorgeous jellyfish I've seen. "

12  "How often does the act of getting something down, and poetry in general, like an elf clutching at a book in a bookstore, depend on the Judge's ruling—Gad!—, even setting rules to muddle things a bit."


                                        Towards a blog poetics: Introduction
                                                     

A butterfly, nude and flower, traditional signatures of the poet's language, do more than say: they live, walk, hear & have being (like fires of war).The modern poem, however (if ever there was a candidate for Ionian tragedy!), is a meditation on language—a retrievable and complex one. A refuge from the disturbing visuals of Birth, Death, Time & Self: a type of "sublimely dull" beekeeping, or a parting of the clouds, since the world is read during the moment and then inventoried into rare books.If the traditional poem is a mirror inserted  between a straightforward world and itself, then it is an ill wind; the contemporary poem, however, is in the mirror, a silver book of danger and music.

We alone can be grateful that genre, subject and individual poems are just a means of presentation, as if we're first witnessing the successful artist, poet and writer from several inconceivable points of view.The poet's arable couplet, minimalist and at bottom a mash-up, can still be entertaining. Perhaps the best known poem there is (or isn't) is, yes, a confession & if it'd wanted to try to get it right could follow the whole poem closely as an "End of the World" or the "Goddammit" type & continue to do so. Free to clear the tone or style of the intelligibles, you can go to the fields & birds, like a deadbeat poet. Like faces on a canvas, stories and words that mean too many things & don't emanate from the village hearth, lie dead, even in early spring. More a contest for the best minds than a poem, a peep show of perpetual sequences and good only for fools, the experimental may be the most gorgeous jellyfish I've seen.

How often does the act of getting something down, and poetry in general, like an elf clutching at a book in a bookstore, depend on the Judge's ruling—Gad!—, even setting rules to muddle things a bit?