Is right now a good time for a drink?
If you don't know me very well, the answer is goodness yes.
Speaking of drinks, check out this fellow's insights on the relation of wine quality to the bottle dimple. He assumes, as noted elsewhere, that price equals quality, and that might not be true always. I've had some stellar bottles of four-buck Chardonnay. Then again how developed is my palette, you ask? That is a fair question. Average at best, I'll admit. But still, look at the graph. Graphs don't lie.
I wrote a poem, actually, come to think of it, about 1) a wine & liquor only, semi-formal cocktail party held last winter; 2) Western New York revivals circa 1880; 3) the Jesus Freak outside the student union who, to the complete indifference of maybe a hundred sunning students, holds forth on the supremacy of the King James Bible over the other "cursed" versions. Already on looking this list over I can see my guiding question / concern taking shape; already it's clear that this poem need not necessarily have much important to say about anything. The fact that the poem was only let's say 33% good by the time I put my pen down (thanks again Randy et al at Studio One) only exacerbates my concern, namely, that this time I pour into poems feels wasted. Sometimes, of course. Is there any poetry quotation as mouthed as Auden's on its' making nothing happen? I tire of that quote, even as I agree with it. But it's so often mis- or under-represented w/r/t its implications. Politically, socioeconomically, global thermonuclearly, that quote is spot on. But when it holds true with the adverbs emotionally, intellectually, and other such adverbs, I lose heart. What's it all about, Mom & Dad?... that's how I sometimes feel.
Like I said, a drink. Don't worry, just one. Just two. Two.
Speaking of drinks, check out this fellow's insights on the relation of wine quality to the bottle dimple. He assumes, as noted elsewhere, that price equals quality, and that might not be true always. I've had some stellar bottles of four-buck Chardonnay. Then again how developed is my palette, you ask? That is a fair question. Average at best, I'll admit. But still, look at the graph. Graphs don't lie.
I wrote a poem, actually, come to think of it, about 1) a wine & liquor only, semi-formal cocktail party held last winter; 2) Western New York revivals circa 1880; 3) the Jesus Freak outside the student union who, to the complete indifference of maybe a hundred sunning students, holds forth on the supremacy of the King James Bible over the other "cursed" versions. Already on looking this list over I can see my guiding question / concern taking shape; already it's clear that this poem need not necessarily have much important to say about anything. The fact that the poem was only let's say 33% good by the time I put my pen down (thanks again Randy et al at Studio One) only exacerbates my concern, namely, that this time I pour into poems feels wasted. Sometimes, of course. Is there any poetry quotation as mouthed as Auden's on its' making nothing happen? I tire of that quote, even as I agree with it. But it's so often mis- or under-represented w/r/t its implications. Politically, socioeconomically, global thermonuclearly, that quote is spot on. But when it holds true with the adverbs emotionally, intellectually, and other such adverbs, I lose heart. What's it all about, Mom & Dad?... that's how I sometimes feel.
Like I said, a drink. Don't worry, just one. Just two. Two.
posted by Wil at
6:33 PM
2 Comments:
Sure, poetry makes something happen intellectually, emotionally, etc., but that's a pretty solipsistic notion.
Is something valuable if it does something for YOU and you only?
Maybe the question aspiring poets should ask themselves is whether they are comfortable with poetry-as-masturbation.
Of course, one with a poetry-heavy education can end up with a teaching career, and thereby exert positive influence on others, but it's not really the poetry getting the work done, it's a good teacher who happens to deal with poetry.
So, with Auden, I agree. Poetry makes shit happen.
I also happen to agree with WCW, that "men die every day for lack of what is found there."
By
Anthony Robinson, at 10:07 AM
How is that solipsistic?
You know, I didn't want to respond, but making a claim like that and not explaining it carefully leaves a reader - in this case me - with a very bad taste in my mouth indeed. Intellectual / emotional success in a poem is something that I locate in the reader, always, not in the writer. That's always been the case. The concern of which I blogged last night was whether or not I've been having that success.
Moreover, this notion that "aspiring poets [I hope that includes you] should ask themselves... whether they are comfortable with poetry-as-masturbation" is one I especially dislike - it's a sniping, monocle-on-the-end-of-the-nose browbeating thing to say, Tony.
I've thought about this a long time, since this morning in fact. One thing I told myself to keep in mind is that the Internet's a public place, and speech is gloriously free. And blogs live / die by those who read / don't read them. I admit these facts.
But. I ask that you reread what you post - to me if not to others. Reread your last comment, for starters, and see how it sounds now. This is the 2nd time your comments have raised my cockles. If you feel I'm being over-sensitive, fine. But please, I'd rather have no comment at all than a comment such as this morning's.
By
Wil, at 6:30 PM
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