I've been thinking and then I saw this...

Writers sometimes give up what is most strange and wonderful about their writing - soften their roughest edges - to accommodate themselves toward a group response.  - Mary Oliver

Without trying to put words in Mary Oliver's mouth, I saw this quote and it resonated with some thoughts that have been running through my mind lately.

There is this thing about writing poetry in such a way that it resonates universally. Some feel the more universal the better the work.  But such accommodation of the masses seems to defy my most fundamental view of art. If it's so universal that everyone sees it without any exercising the limits of their creative thought, have we not created something so simple, so basic that it lacks uniqueness and could therefore be reproduced by any number of people?

And is not art initially about the image the artist sees? And if it is not so universal, then it challenges others to find their own view. 

With this, I'm off to bed.

My Bi-Annual Dig on DST

Mood:  I'm here aren't I
Listening to:  Forever by Kenny Loggins just ended Making Love out of Nothing at All by Air Supply just started.

Note to those who dislike Daylight Savings time as much as I do.... 

A proposed federal law calling for Russia to end its daylight saving practice has been brought to the State Duma and is now being discussed at a regional level. Daylight saving time (DST) may no longer be used in Russia in the future if this proposed law is approved.

Furthermore, the proposal’s summary raises the issue of people’s biorhythms being distorted because of DST, and that Russia had enough energy savings without needing DST. It was discussed that the elderly and children struggled with biological clock changes associated with DST.

Interesting information on health risks.

Good Lord - Russia is looking more progressive on this then we are.

Ok, enough on this...

Was up early this morning writing - I've been exploring my optimum writing times.
I'll talk more about this in the near future.

Lots left to do today. Need to shower and get started.

Crawling out of skin and other acts of strangeness.

Went for an exercise walk and ran across this snake skin left behind. I know there is a poem there somewhere.

Am I lame or what?  I could not get a block before I stumbled and fell. So now I feel invigorated but with sore knees. Geez!

Strangest thing... my great grandfather who died in 1968 has crept into two pieces I've written in less then 24 hours.  Very strange karma or something.

Magpie Tales 39

Making Time


A meager urge to procrastinate
rests below the surface-

I can look the other way
scratch in the gravel
and miss a good part of the day

if I'm lucky, no.
It's like a crime
that never pays.

My great grandfather
in his old age-
the hardening
of arteries years,
would move his pocket watch
backwards or forward
to suit himself.

He could make of time
what he wanted.

Few of us
have that luxury.




2010 © Michael A. Wells – all rights reserved




Magpie Tales 39

Kanas City area Poet is the Poetry Daily contibutor for Friday

Some Years in the History of Love Poetry by Michelle Boisseau

Was reading Poetry Daily tonight and there was Michelle Boisseau!  Congratulations!

• On another note - I'm dog sitting  / Plenty of books and writing material along for the weekend.
• 'Howl': How Do You Film a Poem? By Jesse Hicks 5 November 2010
• Amber Tamblyn Interview: Joining “House” and Performing Poetry
  

Poetry v. Prose

While I've had non-poetry work published, I don't devote much writing time to anything except poetry.  When I saw a post by Susan Rich titled Poetry v. Prose: Lovers or Fighters?  I was captivated by the following:

A poem that stays on my computer I can still love, has taught me something, can still be relevant to my writing life. However, an essay that stays on my computer waiting for her dance card to be filled feels entirely different.

Susan offers some interesting perspectives on what poetry means to her. I like reasoning.

Tackling Poems You Think You Love

Often in my earlier writing I would find that I wrote something that had promise but on the whole was clumsy or lacking in any lyrical quality or maybe just pretencions. Very rookie mistakes for any poets. It became a common problem to really rework these pieces. Cosmetic shifts here and there but you become so married to a particular aspect of the poem that you find you simply cannot go beyond a certain point.

Last night I pulled out one such poem and began reworking it. I spent over an hour on it and the real victory was that I was willing to tackle it at all. This morning I'm thinking that while it is much improved, I'd like to really take it apart some more and see if I can take it some other direction altogether, and what that might look like.