I want to thank the folks who waded through my opinions, etc.
I also want ot thank Twelveooone for asking me to particpiate. It has been equal parts thrilling and frightening. While, like a lot of us here, I have particpated in workshops, seminars and one-on-one examinations of writing, I have never laid on an operating table and let people ask what they will. That was scarey.
In a way, I am glad that I wasn't asked to go through the poems, line-by-line, and explain my reasoning behind the way the line was crafted. I'm not sure even I understand the whys and wherefors. I am content to simply chalk it up to a good day with my muse!
I read the quotes that 1201 gleaned to include in his last comment. When I read them, I was surprised they came out of my mouth... there were a couple of places where I actually sounded like I might know what I was talking about! (I suspect it was luck).
What I do know, is that poetry is more than putting words on a page. I suspect it is part sickness, part addiction, part celebration and part luck. It is both the easiest and hardest part of my life. It is more about need, than want. It's almost never about things I really understand. Then again, it is always about things I've always known.
Perhaps that is the duplicity that I allude to when I call my muse a bitch, and the cruelest lover I've ever known!
Twelveoone did give me a grand compliment when he said my work was "accessible". Though I never mentioned that in any way, it is the one thing that I hope about my work... that it was (is) accessible... that folks might hear, or feel, or sense something when they read it.
In the last analysis, can I ask for more?
I also want ot thank Twelveooone for asking me to particpiate. It has been equal parts thrilling and frightening. While, like a lot of us here, I have particpated in workshops, seminars and one-on-one examinations of writing, I have never laid on an operating table and let people ask what they will. That was scarey.
In a way, I am glad that I wasn't asked to go through the poems, line-by-line, and explain my reasoning behind the way the line was crafted. I'm not sure even I understand the whys and wherefors. I am content to simply chalk it up to a good day with my muse!
I read the quotes that 1201 gleaned to include in his last comment. When I read them, I was surprised they came out of my mouth... there were a couple of places where I actually sounded like I might know what I was talking about! (I suspect it was luck).
What I do know, is that poetry is more than putting words on a page. I suspect it is part sickness, part addiction, part celebration and part luck. It is both the easiest and hardest part of my life. It is more about need, than want. It's almost never about things I really understand. Then again, it is always about things I've always known.
Perhaps that is the duplicity that I allude to when I call my muse a bitch, and the cruelest lover I've ever known!
Twelveoone did give me a grand compliment when he said my work was "accessible". Though I never mentioned that in any way, it is the one thing that I hope about my work... that it was (is) accessible... that folks might hear, or feel, or sense something when they read it.
In the last analysis, can I ask for more?
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