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Saturday, December 11, 2010

So, . . . What's going on here?

'We notice that you are looking at a bunch of very random words and seeing this story in them! We even notice that in different versions of the same work the words are not the same.'

In the Muse Poems I am not seeing the words as words but hearing them as sound. I let the sounds run from one to another and let that remake the words that support the sequence.

Though written, they were drawn, literally, and in surrogate, as silhouettes of sound, as written words they were first read and spoken as sounds, never spelled.

The words thus thus taken as suggestions of sound sequence, not sound sense. As we assemble the words we are looking for a 'story', but that story is akin to toys in a doctor's office for the children to play with. The real reason is not to play with the games that we are there.  Well, yes, we are for that reason too!

This is the distraction of conscious mind. The rule, to make a sentence out of five random words, places an almost impossible overload on the conscious mind, which fights at this point to keep its leadership. However the battle's lost, because at this point the Muse takes over.

The original 'story' that we thought we were composing, is actually only one facet of the crystalline structure that's presented. Like any dream, it has other stories she wants to tell.

She's better at it. We let her speak.

I come to many many versions of the same poem, and love starting out again with the same sound sequence and letting it evolve a different way.

In that evolutionary process, I don't keep drafts. Drafts are the death of poetry. It all must be as fluid and surefooted as canoeing down a river. You don't go back. You can haul your boat back up to the top and read it over. But you don't put drafts  up and down the river and paddle back and forth between them.

Often I'lll post one of these works and know it needs resolution. Some tiny changes have to be made so that it can be read in this world.

The grammar 'she' uses is more direct, less complicated than ours. Those tiny differences are what I make up for in the edit.

The editing is based on a set of rules which I hew to totally.

Reading a poem enough times aloud, changes it. Just the reading changes it.

When I'm not happy with a poem, I refer back to the original, which to me is akin to a silhouetted tape recording, something that we took down as we arranged and spoke drawn words. I regard this as sound resulting from ritual activity . . or . . . vibration that is allowed to flow through ritual activity . . . as if the ritual itself creates some kind of lens, or imaging device.

It is very hard to make these poems hang together unless one does that. Sound flows most easily in a discussion. Here the unequivocal assignment of roles, as in dramatic role, is necessary, to give the sounds their sense. There has to be a setting, a stage, and a dramatic ritual to go with it.

The Greek dramas made sound out of sense, i.e. spelled words. that have meaning, but first stripped them, literally, of their their content, so as to place them where they could assume a grammatically correct relationship to each other. This is a kind of acrostic puzzle, impossible for conscious mind to do on its own. Language expurgates itself of sense, becomes a new sequence of sound, and then reassembles itself again towards grammatical sense one more.

Here is my water. It's all water.

Let the sound flow like water over the rocks, and let the content, i.e. meaning, flow  by like fish.

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