Scribbles from the Poetry Workshop
(which are only thoughts about poetry itself)
Be very, very careful what you put into that head, because you will never, ever get it out. Thomas Cardinal Wolsey (1471-1530).
Perhaps death is only a type of missingness, like prison or being cloistered.
Ask the questions that part human seas: would you choose prison or homelessness?
Unschooled, unprepared for so much laughter, this camaraderie. Fearless alone, coward in company. I suppose I could enter a convent.
Leonard Cohen lived among the Zen monks for a decade (while his agent stole his entire savings). He was distracted by the silence. But he was only hiding. Not dead like Jimi or Janis or John, or DF Wallace.
hypergraphia vs. logorrhea
Someone says, we can try to minimize our own biases. I think, really?
No excessive language/concrete, clear images/skirts on making sense
Go back to the roots of your diction/trade the mouse for a horse
Crutch words don’t speak, say bitch
These forms can be very subversive/ these forms can hamstring you
Write a tasteless poem/ Coat-rack pornography/The pathetic fallacy
Looking back to see what needs to be returned to the poem
Try for visceral, wild, craven, weird. Go for it.
No words needed, just inflection.
Despite herself, she found fault with Saramago. She wanted some white space to save her eyesight. Is he trying to save the rain forests?