amongst books

amongst books

Friday, October 05, 2012

a wee note/rant on poetics

forgive the generalizations but to me it seems that literary journals that cross my path (with a few notable exceptions such as Rampike & fillingStation) tend to publish poetry that reflects a homogenized pristine reality. the goal is always for precision in language, smooth rhythms.

I want to read poems that reflect the stumble that life is, the constant struggle, the vagueness of language, its inability to say what we want to say. I write poetry with this same philosophy in mind. I don't want even, predictable rhythms. I want a word to be inexact, to lead to multiple possibilities or ambiguity. I want to reflect tentativeness with hedgewords like rather and perhaps. I eschew absolutes. I refuse requests to perfect the imperfect. I'm not a god, I'm a flawed human who regularly fails. I want this reflected in my poems & poems I read.

2 comments:

AP said...

Yes! I have a very similar rant running through my brain these days, so it was cleansing to read your words. Thank you.

Pearl said...

yes, people have funny ideas about what's fit for poetry. save all their sense of humour for "real life" or cordon off intellect or heart, just to keep all the red or blue or brown smarties organized by like-kinds.