Quoets for Poets: 8/8/13

“A sculptor works with substances that his audience may never have touched; a musician plays an instrument that his listeners have never mastered.  But a poet uses the same words that hundreds of millions of people use every day to marry, fight, console themselves, entertain, grieve, and order cheeseburgers.”

—David Orr

“You don’t make a poem with ideas, but with words.”

—Stephane Malarme

Quoets for Poets 7/24/13

…plus rambles from a Crabby John…
…since I haven’t done this in a while…

“Poetry is the language of a state of crisis.”

–Mallarme

Poetry is language losing itself in itself, losing itself in words.

“Similarly, Joyce suggensts that readers of Ulysses ought not to forget narrative context even when language is made to seem like nothing but sound.  Of course the seduction of sound is paramount; poetry cannot exist without it.  But we ignore the seduction of plain sense, Joyce suggests, at our own peril.  The pleasure of Ulysses is that Joyce takes neither of these seductions for granted, forcing us to become aware of the kind of work we do when making sense of any linguistic utterance.  Words mean something because they always threaten to sound like something else.”

—James Longenbach, The Art of The Poetic Line

language is an intrusion into the psyche
it is our intrusion into the world
a failure to understand where our power lies

“Dissonance / (if you are interested) / leads to discovery.”
—William Carlos Williams

this animal called language
has begun to feed on itself

Quoets for Poets 2/23/13

“There is nothing at all that can be talked about adequately, and the whole art of poetry is to say what can’t be said.”
—Alan Watts

“The pure work implies the disappearance of the poet as speaker, who hands over to the words.”

—Stephane Mallarme

“To see is to forget the name of the thing one sees.”

—Paul Valery

 

waking words, identity, interuption, silences

Words I found on my lips upon waking:

“Do you know what it would look like,this portentousness, this guild of lost flowers?”

A passage that struck me later in the day while reading “Living with the Devil” by Stephen Batchelor:

“The stuff of which we are made, that allows the possibility of consciousness, love, and freedom, will also destroy us, wiping out that poignant identity of a sensitive creature with an unrepeatable history, who has become a question for itself.”

A thought that interrupted the copying of this quote:

“I pause in my struggle over the placement of a comma,
the exact site of a break in the clause,
because the silences matter as much as the noise.”

And later a quote found by chance while looking in the wrong place for a different, particular quote by Paul Valery:

“It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.”

— Stephane Mallarme

Strange to see the path these thoughts, these silences traced through the day and each other, each pointing forward and backward as the empty moment in time passed through them.