I had an English Composition teacher who treated the written word like it was a stuffy neighbourhood of high fences, large houses and locked doors. Only those who could follow a proper set of directions could gain entry. But I’m bad with directions. I don’t know, maybe this has something to do (many years later) with my knocking on the door and hanging out in the kitchen of (free verse) poetry.
But then, when I read some of the Bishops of poetry, who said, make every word count, I was a bit dismayed. I’ve got a lot words in my poems that pass the time of day, that sit in parks and people watch, nod and smile to passers by.
Not always, but mostly, I’ve tried to make things a bit more comfortable for people. Maybe even, while fetching my rough lumber and framing hammer, increase the supply of reality.
I haven’t met the other poets here, but I’ll wager that each one is a seeker, both of new forms as well as vision; on a quest, however impossible, for a kind of perfect fluency and power to exquisitely express their unique and particular consciousness.
This was such a wonderful event!! Thank you as always for sharing your poetry with the world.
Thank you Teryl! So lovely to have you and Mateo tune in!
(I’ve said something like this before). For some a picture is worth a thousand words. In your case, your words raise thousands of pictures – expanding realities indeed! Bless you little brother!
Ah, thanks Sam! You’re a kind brother.