Ron Silliman
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
When I say, as I have been known to do, that a ten-year-old could write better poetry than many School of Quietude poets, I’m not being snide. I have proof. Proof in the form of Fox of Gold, by Julia T. Mayhew. Here’s a piece that takes off from a familiar premise:
So much relies
on a picture
with
stains of coffee on it
deep in the forest
surrounded by animals
Each line after that hinge of a preposition takes this work in an entirely new direction. The result is absolutely simple & absolutely not. It’s the human imagination at its brightest & best. Here is a sadder poem, a dramatic monolog entitled “I Am a Pencil”:
I am a pencil who has a very
poor life. I am used by
a writer who seems like he
writes a word every minute in his
life. I expected to grow taller
but he peels my skin to only make
my point sharper. He scribbles
dark words with me when he
presses me on the white thing.
I have a friend, pen. He is more
luckier than me. He has a
cap to protect himself. It is
time to get killed. He is coming
to write with me. I know it
I know it. Oh I wish I
was forgotten never been
used.
***
Molemmat esimerkit houkuttelevat kokeilemaan omaa versiota. Varsinkin ensimmäinen, "that takes off from a familiar premise", saattaa vielä inspiroida kokeiluihin.
Tuo ensimmäinen premissihän on - kuten tietysti koko runo - Pastissi rakastamastani William Carlos Williamsin runosta - The Red Wheelbarrow.
3 comments:
What language is this? Finnish? Care to translate for me?
This is akryöpolitisch!
Of course I care. But - please - wait for a "while." I must get some translation assistance from my friend Leevi Lehto.
Ray(mond)
Jonathan
Here is the description of my blog – please don't take it too seriously. It is written in the spirit of, say, W.C. Fields.
"I am Egon Friedell's reincarnation – also what comes to my physical build-up. I write on just about everything – including technology. I am familiar with all things, and understand them without difficulty. Only my own deeds and woman´s logic remain mysteries to me."
***
The last chapter of my blog account.
"Both examples tempt one to try a version of one's own. Especially the first one, which "takes off from a familiar premise", may yet inspire me to experiment.
That first premise – like the whole poem, of course – is a pastiche of the William Carlos William poem, The Red Wheelbarrow, which I love."
PS. Thanks to Leevi for a necessary help.
Post a Comment