It Poetics

                                             
                                               
For the past three weeks I have been reading         
Paul Hoover's Postmodern American Poetry.
Am into the Poetics section.  Along the way
I have found that my open-style poetics has
similarities to Gustaf Sobin's organic view
and to Michael Palmer's view about narrative.
                                                    
Stan Apps's post yesterday contained a link to
an older post of his I zapped to and read.
Afterwards it occurred to me I--if some publisher        
were willing to do it--could bequeath Invisible          
Ink, a book of 1024 pages of my collected      
poems.  Of course, every page in that book           
would be blank.                                         
                                                        
Later yesterday I read a sobering 2005 interview:      
Robert Arnold with Bill Knott         
Even though I do not accept all of Bill Knott's        
conclusions, I consider it a must-read entry.     
                                                       
My situation is less conducive to recognition           
than Knott's is.  Why?  Several life-choice     
reasons pertain, but for as long as I am vital          
(able to think and do) I hope to continue to    
make poems and other things.  However others    
judge what I do, being beyond my control, I     
for myself cannot deem it a waste.  One thought
of mine I have clung to is:  Do not let your     
life wend on, nowhere going, nowhere gone.     
This does not mean I need to be highly regarded
or possess material wealth.  It does mean,    
however, I need to consistently deepen whoever
it is I am.  Another thought of mine, one I     
stated in a letter I wrote in May of 1970, is:
". . . creatures of polarities, caught up in change,       
we are constant mysteries."  Though I do have an     
aphorisms entry in my primary blog, both here in
Rhodingeedaddee and over in Sprintedon Hollow/          
my thoughts about poetry are wherever I had them.                       
                                                        
Onward.  Brian A. J. Salchert's It Poetics         
is so named because it centers on a made thing.
As to the sources, the main ones are three:       
a word or words as they come to me from the     
womb of my subconscious, a word or words along    
with an idea, an idea.  Sometimes what comes/
I later abandon.  Those that appear and are not      
abandoned/ I try to be true to.  That is, the
directions I sense, I strive to follow.  One      
could say I do not have a staunch aesthetic.   
Some would say, therefore, that my not having   
a perceptible style is a failing in me which   
indicates a weak sense of self, and thus a     
status unworthy of more than a passing glance.
I say it takes more strength to be open in the    
ways I am than it does be closed in the ways
certain others are.  I also say it is a lot more
interesting to be open in the ways I am, albeit
I am not totally open.  For intance, as I have  
written elsewhere, I have a supra-rational God  
belief.  For another instance, as I have written
elsewhere, I like to engage in conversations.
Strangely, two things just happened: 1) I got a
red notice saying: could not contact blogger.com
2) When I saw that I immediately looked at the     
time.  The time was 1:11, which in my universe  
is God-time.  I clicked SAVE NOW, and it saved.
It is only by such events that I know God, for
God (by whatever name spoken of) exists within   
and yet beyond human knowability.  Belief in a    
god is always and ever a matter of faith.  No   
rational argument for or against matters, which
is why I am not a proselytizer.  Onward.  Each  
human who makes constructions with words, or   
with any other intangible or tangible sign, is
moved to choose preferences.  So, some poets 
settle on a certain aesthetic, a way of making,
and stick with it.  The late Jon Anderson wrote:
"My poetry is not for everyone."  Nor is mine,  
however varied.  I have written over 800 poems,   
and therefore am not a prolific maker.  If among    
those/ you find one you like, thank you.          
                                                  
In Sprintedon Hollow--where my most readily           
available poems are, I insert on most entries:
© 2007 Brian A J Salchert   Thinking Lizard
 All rights reserved.  --  Thinking Lizard is a  
viable press I created in 1978 or 1979.  At the
same time I created the pen name: Alden St. Cloud.
I then produced on cassettes four of my books,
sold a few copies of them, and registered them
with the Library of Congress.  That was in 1980  
and 1981.  In 1982 I put together a book of new
and selected poems under my Thinking Lizard and
my pen name.  I think the run was 20 or 25.  That
book is also registered with the LoC.  There are
no remaining copies of those ventures.  The only
traditionally published book of mine is the 1972
Rooted Sky (the original version of that book).
It was published out of Milwaukee, Wisconsin,
by Tom Montag's Monday Morning Press.  Some
copies of it are available online, but they sell
for 6 or more times what they sold for originally.
Somehow Beyond Baroque acquired a copy of it.         
                                                     
Partly due to personal problems & partly due to my  
personality, I became more and more dissatisfied
with traditional publishing.  As a result, what I am
doing--placing most of my writings only online, is
Dissed (consigned to Hell).  I suspect such writers  
as Walt Whitman, E. A. Robinson, e.e. cummings
would have welcomed the Internet; but that's just 
my guess.   
   
              
            
                                                 
                                                      
                                                     
                                                           
                                                   
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