T minus 2.5 hours and counting...
A week and a half ago, when I started prepping in earnest for the new poem feature, I was struggling to get a single poem out. Not just a decent poem; a poem. None of my tricks were working. I didn't want to do tricks; I wanted to do magic. I kept saying, "Just give me five." It was a real struggle.
I kept going back to the words of the late Thomas Disch, which I have referenced often over the years, but found struck a remarkable chord with me now:
"...[T]here is no other form of writing that feels so good as a lyric poem as it gushes forth in steady flow. If that metaphor rubs you the wrong way; if you would at once insist that poetry is Hard Work and not a luxury product for intellectual sybarites; if poetry suggests to you rather the possibility of a Seriousness higher than prose rather than the possibility of sheer music - then nature did not intend you for a poet."
This is, in part, why I burned one of my really strong poems for tongiht's feature at Wednesday night's show: I wanted to prove to myself that this was my gift, that feeling like I was giving painful brith to new work was the abberation, not the Woods way. And Thursday morning I got up and cranked two more out to compensate for the lost one, which further allowed me to remove a not-as-comeplling piece from the set that would have ohterwise been read. I often make fun of the fact that I always have to challenge myself to get sparks out of the right turns, but really: if you don't push back at your art it won't push anyone else.
Now, at exactly 2.5 hours to the minute before my all-new poem feature begins, I am prepping poems. I am editing and printing and going over and putting them "in my mouth"...a phrase I tell poets I've coached right before they get up to perform. It is my intention to go into Kafe Kerouac tonight and earn the invitation. I am a lot of things, but I am a poet naturally. Tonight I shall prove it.
Thanks ahead of time to Joanna for the invitation, Donielle for walking me through the tough spots, and Bill Campana for his assistance with a particularly rousing piece that shall be performed tonight. You'll know which one.
I kept going back to the words of the late Thomas Disch, which I have referenced often over the years, but found struck a remarkable chord with me now:
"...[T]here is no other form of writing that feels so good as a lyric poem as it gushes forth in steady flow. If that metaphor rubs you the wrong way; if you would at once insist that poetry is Hard Work and not a luxury product for intellectual sybarites; if poetry suggests to you rather the possibility of a Seriousness higher than prose rather than the possibility of sheer music - then nature did not intend you for a poet."
This is, in part, why I burned one of my really strong poems for tongiht's feature at Wednesday night's show: I wanted to prove to myself that this was my gift, that feeling like I was giving painful brith to new work was the abberation, not the Woods way. And Thursday morning I got up and cranked two more out to compensate for the lost one, which further allowed me to remove a not-as-comeplling piece from the set that would have ohterwise been read. I often make fun of the fact that I always have to challenge myself to get sparks out of the right turns, but really: if you don't push back at your art it won't push anyone else.
Now, at exactly 2.5 hours to the minute before my all-new poem feature begins, I am prepping poems. I am editing and printing and going over and putting them "in my mouth"...a phrase I tell poets I've coached right before they get up to perform. It is my intention to go into Kafe Kerouac tonight and earn the invitation. I am a lot of things, but I am a poet naturally. Tonight I shall prove it.
Thanks ahead of time to Joanna for the invitation, Donielle for walking me through the tough spots, and Bill Campana for his assistance with a particularly rousing piece that shall be performed tonight. You'll know which one.