An Unamusing Poem
I am not afraid of the dark
I am not afraid of the dark.
But of the darkening skies, the passing of the second solstice, the coming of increasing night…these things are troubling.
These things bode of short sharp breaths, taken quickly, held too long, harbored deep against the growing cold.
They speak of early bed and early death.
They speak in a high-wind whine, deep within some second brain; some smooth reptilian cortex stem that only feels.
Sleet and storm are not the things of winter. Ice is only crystal.
Dark begins at noon and lingers long past sleep, in the sky as in the soul.
And there is that pagan fear, that with the flicker of the candle, with the loss of the flame, the night is forever.
posted by Jon @ 5:53 PM
15 comments
15 Comments:
Alas, mine is the pagan fear. This was the best poem you've written. I liked it. Me. Let that sink in. For those who will comment after me, let me say I believe poetry is a dead art form that is better left on a shelve and hidden between mattresses. It is pointless.
I only say these things to emphasize that I really liked this poem. No, I will go further...it reminds me of one of my favorite poems. Dylan Thomas' famous poem...rage..rage against the dying of the light.
I think I strangely welcome darkness.
My fear of poems stems from English professors who told me what to see in them. I now attempt to allow myself to see what I see without being dictated by others.
Beuatiful imagery, Jon. This is really touching and lovely. I don't think poetry is a dead art, given that I've made a fair amount of money from it and anything that produces emotional response and financial reward is far from dead. Thanks so much for sharing this poem!
Michelle, define fair money.
Poetry lives today in the form of lyrics and little else. Well,maybe the occasional advertising slogan. Most people who read poetry don't understand or appreciate form, they would derive the same satisfaction from pouring through Hallmark cards. The few people who buy poetry also fancy themselves as poets.
I stand by my original statement. Dead art form.
That being said: This rises above most poems I have read. This is art.
That's it...right here and now I'm staging some sort of blogger battle. I'll be Don King and somehow figure out how to represent you both...Bottomline Stu and Michelle need to go at it in some pay-per-view match. Vegas will have odds, bets will be placed...money will be had! The results...a freakn' draw because you are both brilliant and very hard core!
Damn, John...look at what your poem does to people!
Stewart,
I'm willing to bet all the money I've made on poetry that I've made more money and have more readers (even without the blog and the "cheesecake" pictures with ulterior motives --yeah, promoting my writing, shocking isn't it, to run into a capitalist!) than you have on ANY of your writing. I could understand if you said that you didn't like poetry -- it's like me saying I think therapy isn't for me -- it's my personal opinion. I have known people for whom it has saved their lives. Same goes for poetry. I think anyone who dismisses such a huge art form is, um, smug and patronizing. Song lyrics and Hallmark cards are just as valid as anything else -- who are you to judge? Do you have any credentials at all? (not that I give a rat's ass about credentials, but if one sets himself up to be Moses . . . ) I believe I'm repeating myself. As for attending your Thursday night writing group, I'll be sure to get to that right after I finish sticking needles in my eyes for fun. Anyway, I love Susan's comment and would fight old Stewart any day as almost all of his comments work my nerves. And Jon, I still love your poem! Keep going in the art form of poetry, which, contrary to one man's opinion, is not dead.
Well, Michelle, if you took my time when I was a paid journalist into the equation, you would lose your wager. But I admire your spunk, if you'll allow me my patriarchal prerogative.
I think you should examine why I rub you the wrong way. It's almost endearing. I have always prefaced any feedback I've given, that I have admired your work, that I have nothing against you personally, and that I have instead a sense of frustration on how some have treated you. Especially in response to some beautifully written and heartfelt disclosures.
What astonished me was that you responded to that comment of defense by attacking me. That's alright. It happens. As for another comment you made about me trying to make peace, you were mistaken. I sent you heartfelt season greeting. I didn't see it as a need to make peace. At the time I wasn't aware there was a need to do so.
Credentials? That's a shallow and fragile wall to hide behind. That ivory tower you call your fortress...No wait, "ivory tower" is usually a term reserved for such prestigious schools as U of M.
I'm merely a teacher of alternative education. I'm a not as lofty as a community college creative writing educator.
And as for Thursday, it's just as well. Should we meet, the universe would end. It would be like matter and antimatter.
Yours Truly, Moses...
I do hope that last reference wasn't an antisemitic swipe. Your serve, michelle.
Stewart,
All right -- last note on this one. First to address the anti-semitic issue, not at all. If you have read my blog for any length of time, you'd see that I majored in African-American and Jewish writers as part of my doctoral work. My favorite comic of all-time is Woody Allen. Your ethnicity has absolutly zero with why I find you to be pompous and irritating and your pronouncements, poetry is a dead art form, do not need to be carved on any tablets, let me assure you. As for credentials, I don't really care about them. Some of the smartest people I know did not finish high school; my parents did not have any higher education whatsoever. My third-rate doctorate from a state university is hardly anything to get excited over. What I mean is have you read any poetry, do you study it, what gives you the right to dismiss it out of turn? Jon's poem is lovely -- why say everyone else should hide their poems under the shelves and beds? As for your holiday greetings, I appreciated it greatly. I did not, however, like turning to another blog and finding myself referred to as "certain other blogs" as if I were a veneral disease that was catching. I do not control my audience, and since it is a free country, anybody can say anything, yes? One of our rights that is being slowly eroded, I think, and if we don't defend it, it will be a thing of the past. Comments I enjoy might irritate you and the reverse. Isn't it fun to have all opinions? If the comments waste your time, why not skip them instead of attacking me? Peace to you and your writing group -- if it works, that's all that matters. I'm up for Vegas anytime if Susan agrees to officiate!
Vegas? If you're treating.
I will address my loathing of poetry, but I will do so in a less appalling manner.
I actually enjoy poetry. Well-written poetry. Have I studied it? Of course. Have I tried writing it? Yes. I'm the worst poet this side of Woodward..and probably the world.
So by what credential do I go forward? As I've said before, putting aside all professional qualifications, I'm a reader and sometimes student. I have no expertise in poetry other than that.
So what do I hate about it? I suppose I should have been more clear, but I too often use superlatives and muddy meaning. I have a hard time with some who place written words in front of me and pronounce it art. One person asked how I could critique poetry. She said: "These are my feelings, you can't tell me if my feelings are right or wrong."
She was correct. What I can tell her is how I felt about her written expression of those feelings. I can tell her whether or not I felt it worked for me. I can make pronouncements about its' quality, but with the understanding that it's my opinion and my opinion has only as much value as someone ascribes to it.
I think it's a matter of setting criteria (as subjective as that may be) and then deciding whether or not that work meets that criteria.
So is poetry a dead art form? No, not while poems like this which Jon has written are still being written. Jon has written several poems that have moved me. Not an easy task.
Do I like the majority of poetry that is put before me? No. Do I have a right to judge others? Absolutely. Will I irritate people with my pronouncements? Good God, there are days when I awaken and iritate myself merely by rising.
You should give this old man a chance, Michelle. Life is too short.
Peace
Ding, Ding, Ding....like I said, you are both truly brilliant and we're all just doing the best we can! So let's just go to Vegas and party!!!
Great poem, Jon.
Thanks to Susan and Jon for being such great sports about this! And to Stewart, a truce, a truce! And to all, happy thoughts and peace!
truce
Ok Susan, so as you have had to do on my page; I got so caught up in the comments that I had to read Jon's poem again. So, just a few moments, please . . .
Jon, this is a beautiful poem and so beautifully expressed - I loved it. But, Jon, the night never last's forever. The darkness may feel so thick, endless and hollow, but for a conditition to exist, the opposite of that condition must always be present. Therefore, light is always present, though our heaviness may stand in the way of receiving it . . . by creating a shadow. But the shadow is just an illusion of the absence of light. And the night turns her back to the sun . . . not the other way around. xoxo
I must admit that I am not a big fan of critiquing poetry. Mostly because I don't get what the writer is trying to say. Or maybe not that so much but rather I don't get the same thing from poetry that others get. In a workshop type environment, for example, there is a chasm between my understanding and the others. That being said, I will not comment on my interpretation. I'd rather say to you Jon, I was moved. I felt a pang down deep. Great job.
Hi Jon :)
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