The View

See the sunset view below? The house sold for $445,000 at auction. The state appraisal is $373,000. We were there with our miserable little bidder card and hopeless wish, and so were many others. The same house without the view would be $195,000-$210,000. So how much is the view worth? Sunsets over water are for sale. So many things that used to be free become expensive in a crowded world. Poetry is now crowding the world. What to do? Where is the value system? What is it all about? When is the last time you read a poem that had and still has an impact on your life? Has any poem changed direction in your life?

Flower Light

An old pen and ink drawing.

Poetry Equals Time

Nice view. Views like this are expensive. Is it worth working really hard to have a view like this? Writing a poem is really expensive, too. The time taken to write a poem is time not doing something else. If the hours to write a poem are added up, say, twenty hours, how much was spent in writing that poem? How much is twenty hours sitting around the house? Add up the mortgage, the bills, the phone, the electric, the internet, all of it, and if you want to write five more poems this month, it is a lot of time. Poetry equals time.

On the Wire

All the poetry world today seems to be little factions divided into groups, each group a network of people who work together to be a part of something bigger and better in the poetry world. Members tend to be belongers, and nestle themselves on telephone wires between telephone poles, rustling their feathers, being cozy, praising the weather.

Some see the door knob, some see the sun a million miles away.

Personal Peek at the Universe

Our own personal peek at evening and the universe. Our silly dribbling words, do they match nature--not that words are supposed to match or be nature, but is there ever a link between our words and this rare little sphere in space? A poet needs to be a nature poet. What else is there? Malls and international politics? There must ten thousand poems about war, and only a handful of poems as to why women are interesting unto themselves, apart from any man.

Classic

The great wonder of living is how to tell someone what you think and not offend them. The photo above is a pretty sunset. But supppose who took the picture thought it was a great photo, a work of art? Then what? Make nice sounds and walk away slowly, but what if the photographer is your friend and they are deluded? Don't you want to help? There is no easy answer, each person being different. How many people do you know who are specifically interested to know the truth in all things?

A Chair, Pen and Notebook

If you are not writing, you are not doing anything. Of course, if you are not doing your art, your music, your driving of your racecar or sailing your sailboat, etc.

We live on very thin threads of chance.

One thing is for certain; follow one blog and it leads to more and so on and so on. There must be millions of blogs, all clamoring to supposedly be heard, like the poems. Right now, at this moment, there might be one million people in the USA typing on their blogs. Amazing. Is it fair to ask a question such as, of all the people, poets, in this case, blogging, writing poems, who will matter soon? I just read a few poems in a 1918 edition of the Literary Digest, and all of it would be considered laughable by all today. Quaint tripe. What popular poets will be tripe tomorrow? It is hard to tell.

Mystery

Mystery.

See

What we see takes a while to see. Off to the left, in the chrome rim, is a dot--not near the edge. It sits there, in the middle of high tech and metal and flashy steel and glass. It is the moon overhead.

...as my two eyes....

Everything you do you do for money. Sounds awful, but it isn't. It is all amusing.

Such a Blue-Collar Worker

Today I worked. I went all the way downtown and bought some 'wheel stops,' which are those things at the end of parking spaces so your car won't bump into things like a post or a building. So I brought five home, painted them bright yellow, and then took them out to a building, and started installing them. Each one is 200 lbs. I had to measure, drill, caulk, shim, and sledge hammer the rebar, two in each. Then I cut limbs off trees in back of the building. Then I got out the weed-trimmer.

Why all the detail? It's fun to do labor, every poet knows. To be humble puts the abstracted poet back on earth. Weight, materials, tools, tape measures.

On the way home I had three ideas in my notebook. Ideas, or themes, substance, interest.

Advertising?

Sure! Advertising. Never thought I'd do it, but I thought it would be fun. Four or five years from now, I might get a check for a $100.00. I told Suzie to make reservations at any fine dining restaurant.
Quick, somebody click that poetry contest one.

Integrity

In any art, the main basis from which the art goes forward is integrity, which could be a catch-all for many other words and ideas. If an artwork does not have clearly understandable continuity, it has no integrity. What is integrity? I have been most concerned with this since teenage years for some reason. Apparently, not the only one. Merriam Webster: http://www.m-w.com/info/05words.htm

It

So, the question is why don't the poets talk about poetry? Where is the deep analysis of the writing? Either the poets don't have any idea of what they are doing, or they don't want to spill their secrets, or they don't want to give away the tricks of the trade. Maybe there aren't any. Maybe it is like movie stars: either they have it or they don't.
So, poets, write down on one piece of paper all your golden lines, the lines that make you a poet. Are they any good? Is it poetry? Either you know or you don't.

I wonder

I've been reading as many blogs as I have been able to recently, and as usual, I focus on blogs by poets. I wonder of the process by which most of the blogging done by the poet bloggers is not about poetry. Just the usual stuff. If a poet is not focused on the writing, the art goes backward, and fast.

Sometimes, what can be said? I showed this once to someone who I didn't think knew me at all, and he said, rather quickly, "I know who that is. I know what this is about." I was very surprised. One of the workings of art is to help people discover how they feel about things, how they want to feel, or should have felt, or should not have felt, so many variations. This is not the same thing as telling someone how to feel. Dance for someone, dance for yourself, you are liked. Tell someone how to dance, and they don't like you. The art of art.

The only great encumbrance to creativity is the time factor. And the capacity to be driven beyond what many others might think is uncomfortable. Today I listened to a woman salesperson lie to two of her buyers for about 10 minutes. People seem to have no limit to how much they will lie to one another. How was this woman lying? She was, in essence, saying to them, I really don't want to waste my time with you today, so you go do all the research, and when you are ready to buy, call me, so it will be a more efficient way for me to make money, regardless of what you buy. I am always interested in how people, who basically consider themselves good people, become different when it comes to making money. This leads to the great question of all time: why aren't people honest with each other all the time, to all people?