Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts

Thursday, January 24, 2019

Everyone

I'm currently reading The Pocket Rumi translated by Kabir Edmund Helminski

It doesn't sit well that a lot of his poetry is not something we might call a common humanity or shared human values, though I know there are many that follow his writing and what it teaches. I know, for me, a lot of what his poetry talks about is something I feel that I've always strived for and towards, somehow innately. But not everyone has experienced what I have and has seen the things I've seen in the body that I possess.

Tell me, what historical struggle, what coming together of societal conditions, what political events urges a person towards love? Rumi doesn't believe in good and evil, in the moral sense, but he cannot deny his striving towards goodness. It's in his work, this combining of goodness and love and also, quite differently than the Christian messiah, equality between the material and immaterial possessions of the rich and poor. And the cause? Why does he write such things? He looks down on no man, not thieves, not the wearers of gold, not the drunkard, not the mad. 

Again, it doesn't sit well that people - what I feel to be more than that "many" that do - would not and cannot see the value in following his teachings, not as a Messiah or Prophet, but as a poet, one of a great many. 

Here is my question: is it in the structure that the power and magic lies? That this is not sermon, but poetry, but art? 

(I didn't think I would, because I don't typically "review" poetry but now I might, given more thought.)

I'm reading his work quickly and I don't feel guilty about it. There is much to do, much to read, much to write. I stopped for a minute on this verse:


- F

Thursday, January 10, 2019

On Cultural Detritus (1)

A few days ago at work, while sorting a book cart that I filled with three rows of PN (Library of Congress call number) books, I came across a book of poetry by the now popular poet, Lang Leav. And then I came across a similar looking book by the author Michael Faudet:



I had a feeling these two were partners, after flipping through the poetry - Leav's I had already been acquainted with - and after looking through Faudet's I realized that they must be together. I opened Dirty Pretty Things to its dedication page. I don't remember it word for word, but it was dedicated to Lang, and went something like I hope this is as beautiful as when you slowly open your eyes in morning. 

I turned to my colleague and said, "Awwww, isn't it cute that these two poets are dating?" And my voice, as were my feelings, bordering on sarcasm but not quite there yet.

He says, "Who?"

"Lang Leav and this guy... Michael Faudet. They have similar poetry," I replied.

"What's it like?" he asked.

My immediate, unthinking, off the cuff response was, "It's like that stuff you see on social media and mostly on Instagram and Pinterest."

"Ah," he said. "Like Rupi Kaur."

"Yes, exactly," I responded. 

He walked over to me and took a look at the Lang Leav book. I read him Faudet's dedication out loud. 

"Oooooohhhhh noooooooo," he exclaimed.

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah."

He opened up Leav's book to the dedication page and confirmed that hers was dedicated to Faudet. Hers went something like you are the sea. The sea in the sea of strangers we supposed.

He sat back down.

After thinking back to the one Lang Leav book I read, The Universe of Us, I remembered that it wasn't exactly my personal idea of good poetry. I knew of it precisely because of social media. It floods the feeds. Similar poets include Rupi Kaur, Nayyirah Waheed, Nikita Gill. Look them up and you will see that they all follow similar forms. 






"What do you think makes poetry like this so popular?" I asked my colleague. 

"Not to be mean, but it's the kind of stuff you would read in a high school kid's personal diary," he said.

"Agreed. But I wonder what makes it so popular now. I wrote stuff similar to this in high school, and I bet that no one then thought it was... cool. Certainly not popular," I reflected.

He shrugged. "It simple to read. It's poetry for people who don't want to look for a deeper meaning."

Our conversation ended there but I'm still thinking about it. This kind of mass produced poetry - mass produced now because it includes many, many more people besides the poets I've mentioned, along with all the positive vibes and encouragement and it's okay to be sad bullshit fed into the social media machine by various organizations and individuals, businesses and apps, etc. etc. makes it hard to take any of this seriously. 

Of course, it works, to a certain extent. When I was still in the throes of mental illness I was given a book of motivational quotes that did indeed help me. What worries me is when an individual sifting through social media can find just the right saying to piss someone particular off, or give their flawed argument power, or read something to instill a false sense of confidence within themselves. And this stuff isn't used sparingly. It's a constant flow of this, never encouraging deep thinking or thought at all. 

My response to the above poems: (What is so special about our hearts surviving so much physical pain and emotion? Or it is not special at all? Have you forgotten death. You're alive, yes you are alive. I'll stay soft alright, if I don't have to shoot you down first. Tell me how to be strong not just what it looks like. And what, exactly, is worthy of strength? Don't be a victim to your emotions. I'm glad you like your gift.)

If this type of poetry is so popular we should all try it. The creation of one's own content. This form of poetry, if you can call it that, is not difficult. Your thoughts are streamed onto the page in a rhythmic set. You vocalize your emotions, thoughts. You don't need a creative writing instructor to figure this out. Maybe we can try for something better, more personal, more direct. 

There was a comment my colleague made that I almost forgot about. Look up Rupi Kaur memes. Here are some.




- F

Wednesday, June 6, 2018

I am the Dark Man's Sooty Brother and my King as well."

I am being given permission, by an author who knows damn well that he's right in what he's talking about in his deconstruction and analysis of a fabulous fairy-tale, to symbolically do what I've been wanting to do for ages:

"One has to be active. Boil them."


"...notice who places shame on you - that's one way of boiling."



Both passages from "More Than True: The Wisdom Of Fairy-Tales". I loved reading this book. Review to come, which will be posted on my other blog: www.feliciareviewsbooks.blogspot.com

- F




Pigeons

Either they ate too much junk - spilled popcorn and Cheetos spilled over the abandoned alleyways - or instead consumed some sort of poison a...