I like to think of myself as a philosopher-poet. I think,
therefore I write. On my good days, I think that I am just a poet.
I am beginning to believe that poetry is nonsensical – that
is that it cannot quite be defined in sensical or other more or less rational cognitive
terms. Which means that if I get poetry into my writing, I may not quite know
how it actually got there. I do aim to write poetry, however, because aiming seems to improve my chances of
hitting something. And it is poetry that I aim for because I enjoy poetry when
I read or hear poetry, even if my logic seems a little circular. But if I try to
write a grocery list, for example, it just seems more prosaic than poetic. And
still, seeking poetry is no guarantee of finding poetry. Or so I have found.
In this collection of poems and word sketches I have thought
about meaning and about words and about the meaning of words. I have thought
that maybe if I try to think more nonsensically, I might manage to find some other
sort of sense in places where I wasn’t quite looking. Poetry might be sweet or
savory if I could even just catch it out of the corner of my eye. Maybe it
lingers or lurks in the empty spaces between the words.
Let’s face it, folks. Some days I’m just a would-be poet.
And even my thinking doesn’t always amount to much. And yet, poetry exists. And me. Or I? It
all makes me wonder, sometimes.
You can order ‘Moon Approaching South Park’ at Amazon.com.
Some copies are available for $10 cash at Aimee’s coffee shop or directly from
me if you live near by. I will willingly barter with you if you have something
to offer that I want, but please don’t try to offer me live chickens or goats.
It would turn out to be a bad deal for the animals. Does anyone want to do
windows for a book, perhaps? I’m just asking.
Some of the poems and word sketches have been published
before, but most appear for the first time in this collection. I thank you for
your attention to my work. I do think that there is some poetry in my words.
And some nonsense. If you think that you can tell the difference, please let me
know by carrier pigeon or with a note in a bottle. Email or picture postcards
might be a last resort.
Here is the last and possibly the shortest poem from ‘Moon
Approaching South Park’:
Sensical, anon.
Poor old Bert,
he has let his mind go
free and easy as pie
and pumpernickel.
But, she exclaimed,
it has no rhyme
and reason is severely
lacking.
And then a further
argument of what
poetry should be
ensued.
2 comments:
Congratulations, Bert!
Actually unknown was me. Best wishes.
Post a Comment