Saturday, July 15, 2017
In an act of extreme empathy, imagine a childhood deprived of refuge. Imagine the life of Junior, destined to be Junior even when he's in his thirties, forties.... Always in the shadow of Senior. Life a parade of bullies, so one better bully-up or else. A good defense is the only defense. No refuge but in being the one who throws the first punch (either literal or figurative). Money is no refuge. Hell has gold bathroom fixtures.
Strange to feel sorry for that chin-thrusting, lip-pouting, visage-sniveling mock prince. Who would change places with him? Who would trade even the memory of refuge for the reality of the craven?
even in summer
the bare branches
Friday, July 14, 2017
still rattling around
each of us her own
a child's [redacted]
so cold [shiver
Monday, July 10, 2017
I wonder if this charge of obscurity can be leveled at the visual images of a collage, or if visual images go beyond how verbal images make meaning in a viewer's consciousness. Even a pattern of colors (think patchwork quilt) can suggest a story: sunset; rainbow; autumn.
Can one, then, look at a poem as a verbal collage, and extract meaning in that way? I don't even think I mean "understand the author's meaning" here; I mean that level of meaning that comes when a reader "completes" the poem by finding meaning therein. Haiku, tanka, and related short-form poetry certainly allows for this aspect of collage-like suggested meaning(s), impressionistic images that the reader is welcome to use to construct a narrative, however brief.
It is, for me, the most satisfying and wondrous reason for writing and for making collages: being able to suggest, being able to tell a secret story, revealing all in the space between words or the space between scraps...