10.12.11

My Wandering Days Are Over

Sometimes I try to write blog posts
and I simply end up staring at an empty
space and a blinking cursor for ten minutes,
because nothing interesting comes to mind.
It's irritating. Because obviously,
there are too many things in the world to discuss,
but I cannot single out any specific one.


So I'll just go.


I am trying to put together 
probably three different portfolios,
if anyone is interested in my 
business of poetry.
Three portfolios is a lot of work,
and work I've never done before.
I must sift through such volumes
and pick apart things
in a completely different way
and present them, as usual,
to people without any background
on what I'm trying to do with
that piece. 


It's actually sort of 
(really, really) exhilarating
every time I mail off any 
of my work to anywhere.
It travels more than I do,
and it can speak for itself
when it has to.
This extension of myself
can go wherever it wants to.
It's more exciting than it 
probably sounds...


I always wonder,
when I get into these rambles
on poetry and such,
how much of what I am trying to say
gets through to anybody.
How well can convey what really goes
on, so that someone may get a glimpse inside
this extremely ethereal, painful, beautiful
thing. I don't think I can explain it at all.
So I'm sorry if it is all a mish-mash of
wordiness with no real concrete picture.


I guess it's
everything.


Poetry is most everything.
It is pine trees
and seas and vacant fields.


Old tvs and exit ramps,
bodegas and subway trains.


It is lines and contours 
and subtle shades.
People and every
philosophical idea
to ever even fleetingly cross
the mind of anyone who ever
lived, died, loved, or was
birthed of cosmic dust.
Which is everyone,
and every idea.


It's so phenomenal.
Indescribable.
I feel I cannot do the art 
justice,
but I will die trying.


Because there is one thing
I think I love above all other
things
and it is the crafting of,
the research of,
the musing over
poetry and poetics. 


There is so much good
in it.
So much fresh air.







1 comment:

Lily said...

Love the last stanza.