capturing transient transcendence

        
                                           
                                          
Consider what the best poems do.  Are they not ways                       
of capturing transient transcendence?  Here via   
another medium is a vivid display of this: Sunrise
by William Michaelian.                                     
                                                            
                                                        
                                              
                                                       
                                                       
rho00369                                                 

Reading book by Owen Barfield 2

         
                                           
                                          
See bl00343 May 22, 2009.                     
                                               
From chapter VIII  The Making of Meaning (II)        
p. 138  [6]                                         
    When we start explaining the language of
  famous scientists as examples of 'poetic   
  diction', it may well seem that the ordinary
  meaning of that literary phrase has been     
  inflated beyond the bounds of reason.  Never-       
  theless such an extension was necessary, in   
  order to make clear its real nature.  Nor    
  has it been waste of time, if it has convinced    
  a single person who needed convincing,
  how essentially parochial is the fashionable  
  distinction between Poetry and Science as    
  modes of experience.                          
    . . . the rational principle must be         
  strongly developed in the great poet.         
-                                              
p. 139  [6]                                    
  If the poetic is unduly ascendant, behold  
  the mystic or the madman, unable to grasp   
  the reality of percepts at all--being still   
  resting, as it were, in the bosom of gods   
  or demons--not yet man, man in the fullness
  of his stature, at all.  But if the passive,  
  logistic, prosaic principle predominates,   
  then the man becomes--what? the collector,
  the man who cannot grasp the reality of      
  anything but percepts.  And here at last a   
  real distinction between poet and scientist,
  or rather between poetaster and pedant,           
  does arise.                                     
-                                                    
pp. 140-141  [7]                               
    Provided, then, that we do not look too    
  far back into the past (i.e. beyond the    
  point at which the 'given' meaning of a   
  word first began to yield place to the    
  'created' meaning) language does indeed    
  appear historically as an endless process 
  of metaphor transforming itself into meaning.   
  Seeking for material in which to incarnate   
  its last inspiration, imagination seizes   
  on a suitable word or phrase, uses it as a   
  metaphor, and so creates a meaning.  The   
  progress is from Meaning, through inspiration  
  to imagination, and from imagination, through   
  metaphor, to meaning; inspiration grasping   
  the hitherto unapprehended, and imagination  
  relating it to the already known.               
                                                     
                                                   
                                                        
                                                 
                                              
                                               

bl00353                                                                                      

Reading book by Owen Barfield

                                     
                                         
Poetic Diction: A Study in Meaning         
                                                
Since I haven't gotten very far into it, 
I can't say much yet; but I know it is a   
book I like.  The copy I have is of the          
second edition -- Copyright © 1964 by the
McGraw-Hill Book Company.  I have it on     
loan through a local library.  The first   
sentence of the "Preface to the Second       
Edition" reveals this book's basis:        
                                           
  The Preface to the first edition
  described briefly how this book    
  grew out of two empirical obser-   
  vations, first, that poetry reacts  
  on the meanings of the words it    
  employs, and, secondly, that there    
  appear to be two sorts of poetry.     
                                           
On page 34 is a longer passage I would        
like to shorten but deem it best not to.
                                             
  Apart from pleasurable entertainment  
  (which must never be forgotten), there   
  are two important functions which poetry  
  is there to perform.  One of them is the
  one I have stressed throughout this book,
  namely the making of meaning, which gives
  life to language and makes true knowledge
  possible.  And this it does inasmuch as    
  it is the vehicle of imagination.  The     
  other, lying much nearer the surface of  
  life, is to mirror, not necessarily by  
  approving, the characteristic response   
  of the age in which it is written.  Now
  it may happen, and it has been happening
  increasingly since the eighteenth century,
  that these two functions conflict.  They
  may even be diametrically opposed to one
  another.  For there may be an age of which
  the characteristic response is to deny     
  the validity of imagination.  And if that
  happens, a true and sensitive poet will  
  find himself in a dilemma.
                                                
Obviously, many changes have occurred since    
Barfield wrote his book, and while I have an
idea of where he would stand, I am going to  
defer that until I have read his entire book.   
                                                 
                                           
                                                 
                                               
                                               
bl00343
       

I am bajs

           
                                    
                                         
and wildernesses compass me who dozes in his thoughts,
tumbles into mini-dreams, then jerks awake, confounded
by/ things askew.  About and about on poet blogs these
recent days, category skirmishes in posts and comments
well and wriggle; and even I, foolish elf, have placed
a note or two there and there.  Actually, though it may
yet be too soon to fathom, I doubt the participants will
alter each other's thinkings in any significant ways.   
The best that can come of these dis-cussions is that    
1) the instigators of and the responders to/ them      
   will learn how to stop talking past each other
2) a growth in understanding and tolerance will occur
                                                       
I am not on one side or the other; still, if someone   
were to attend all my artifacts, that someone might be
able to find a box to place me in.  The one box I have
placed myself in is the It poetics box.  Even when I   
plan ahead, i.e., have set an overriding aesthetic for
what I intend to make, the thing, the it, being made
takes precendence.  Poem, ditty, muttob, poemoid;    
or slight and silly, determinate, indeterminate, dense  
and dusky, goulash: the artifact rules.              
                                                       
As I recall, this current round of investigations    
began with K. Silem Mohammad's Relevance posts, 
and when Seth Abramson joined in/ it shifted to trying   
to displace Ron Silliman's long-standing School of
Quietude / Post-Avant divisions.  Mr. Abramson took
a sociological rather than an aesthetics approach,
though it wasn't obvious to some.  Others frolicking
in the fray were Joseph Hutchison, Adam Fieled, and
Johannes Göransson.  There were more, a few of
whom only cantered in comment spaces.  I did both,
sort of, and along the way discovered what seemed 
to me to be an excellent name for a famous football
player: Aristophanes Juvenal Boccaccio.  It's a name
that has a rhythm to it, a name a crowd of fans could
chant.  Definitely, a number of fine insights have 
arisen, but go to where the posts are.                
                                                     
                                                      
                                                       
                                                          
                                                       
                                                   
                                                     
                                                           
Rho00253                                           
                                          

       

A Seamus Heaney interview

                                              
                                           
I encountered and read last night,   
via a link on Todd Swift's Eyewear blog,
is rife with insights on the      
craft and art of poem-making.        
                                     
                                        
                                       
                                              
                                          
Rho00219                                 
                                    

Flarfathon

                                                
                                                   
Here is a link to a post by Gary Sullivan               
that I would have known about yesterday          
had I scrolled down more than I did when       
I visited his Elsewhere blog.
                                                
                                               
                                                
My general response is:  There is always something to flarf.
                                                             
                                                                 
                                                                 
                                                                  
                                                             
Rho00216                                                 
                                          

extension of breakfast

                                                 
                                           
is in a sentence written by Bill Knott which begins:
"Form is never more than an extension of breakfast. . . ."
which occurs near the end of his 2008/10/24 post     
on his blog.  Ostensibly about Mallarmé and the
word quel that poet had written on a scrap of paper,
Mr. Knott's post opens into a serious discussion about 
poetry.   
-                                                   
Over at my Kyphotic Hermit/ I plan to respond to it.
I have taken notes.  If you read it, read it slowly,
and attend the connections and distinctions he makes.
                                                        
                                                        
                                                   
                                                 
Rho00212                                               
                                                 

KSM's Poetry and Technology posts

                                       
                                             
 That K. Silem Mohammad thought to ask:
Is Poetry a Technology?: is impressive.
That--especially in the second post--he
leans toward a no answer, and yet allows
doubt and uncertainty in/ either because
he honestly is unsure or he is purposely
so since he wishes to maintain a critical
distance/ made me think of Keats.       
                                        
These are the two posts:
-
1) Is Poetry a Technology?
-
2) More on Poetry and Technology (sort of)
                                          
Oh:  Read the comments beneath the posts.
                                         
>1<
                                                    
>2<
                                                                
                                                     
                                         
                                                 
                                       
Rho00145                                
                                  

revisiting me and artifacts

                                           
                                              
 My view may not be a popular one, but I learned
early on a made object is only as good as are  
the judgments of those who attend it.  This does     
not mean that a maker of an object can avoid  
being concerned about quality; but it does mean
that whatever the medium or mediums, whatever   
the tools, whatever the construction, however
refined the maker's judgment is, the values of  
a finished artifact exist beyond the opinions of
the person who made it.  Therefore, once a maker
has crafted an artifact and is willing to share  
it with others, those others should be allowed  
to discern its worth.  The maker can answer any
questions about it, but should not get on a high
horse about it.  If no artifact a certain person
makes is considered exceptional or even mildly  
good, then that's that person's maker fate.  One
does what one is moved to do, and if what one is
moved to do results in objects unacceptable to   
this or that coterie, so be it.                 
                                                
It is a horrid mistake to fashion something just
to appeal to the promoters of some current taste.
                                                  
In the poetry sphere there is always someone or    
a group--usually more than one--practicing and   
advocating a different way to make poems.  What  
else would one expect as arguments fly like rooks
out of night?  All such is interesting / useful.   
                                                 
I, however, despite how often I/ proffer comments,
remain aloof.                                        
                                                    
                                                   
                                               
                                              
                                                 
Rho00125                           
                                                

  

Sex at Noon Taxes

                                          
                                           
is the title of a book of poems by Sally Van Doren
which the Academy of American Poets recently mailed
to me.  I hadn't done a book review in many years,
but I was considering one for her book.  However,  
after finding an online review by Melinda Wilson  
which was published in coldfrontmag, I thought
it best to link to it.                           
                                                    
When I first read this book containing 59 poems  
divided into four sections thusly: 15 15 15 14:
six or more the poems I somewhat liked.  After a
second read-through, three remained.  I offer no
explanation of why they appeal to me, but their
titles are "Pronoun/Punctuation" (page 23),     
"Revisitation: Key West Cemetery" (page 31),   
and "April" (page 48).                             
                                                 
In the review is a comment about the word "taxes"
which was also my original take on that word.  
Then it occurred to me that one could see sex  
at noon as being taxing in the sense of tiring,
of depleting energy.  Presently I prefer this   
definition.                                        
                                                 
.....
                                                   
                                                      
                                                     
-                                              
Rho00114
                                      

ceptualist

                                                
                                                       
 From Jamie Rose this                         

Latin root-based definition of "ceptualist"                                          
......          
                                           
                                             
                                                 
Rho00099

Autotypist great highlights

                                              
                                                
See this excellent post regarding                               
conceptualism and nonceptualism:                                                        

.....
                                                                   
Such discussions/debates are of interest to me               
although I am neither a nonceptualist nor a con-          
ceptualist.  My poetics, insofar as I have one,     
is an It Poetics.  That is, the work at hand is  
more important than any--when there is any--  
preconceived notion about it.                          
                                                        
I do mildly participate in comment streams on    
these topics.  I favor taking neither an against             
nor a for stance.                                    
                                                     
                                                          
                                              
                                                
                                          
.....                 
connects to my It Poetics post                            
                                                
                                             
--u iz wuch u iz--
                           
                                     
                              
Rho00096

poetry that endures

                                                           
                                                           
 The title of this post is taken from Boyd Tonkin's
Why poetry still matters because the XX poem 
"what if a much of a which of a wind" by E. E. Cummings
moved me into wondering again: What makes a poem last?
A "why poems last" search led me to the feature linked
to above.  It answered my question so well I thought it
best to simply share it.                                
                                                           
                                                          
 In conjunction with this are thoughts on poetics     
which are pertinent now: Tony Tost's Typo 2 notes:
Disarm the Settlers.
                                                            
                                                                
                                                        
 Also, do this search:
why poetry matters now
                                     
and choose the Robert Peake result                                  
                                           
                                           
                                                                                                  
* * * * *  
                     
                  
Rho00062

100 poems project

                                                      
                                                        
                                                       
 Catch KSM's                         
project.  No need to comment, but read what he and others 
write.  Enjoy the poems.  I don't have the anthology that
handily is filling a nothing-pressing-to-do void for him.
So far two poems, both ballads, have been posted.  It is
my feeling his doing this benefits him and those who are
tracking along.                                         
                                                       
                                                       
                                                      
                                                        
&




Rho00056

Poet Poet

                                                      
                                                     
 Precipitated by a technical hold at PF's Harriet,
Linh Dinh's ninth post exists in three places:    
here (where there are 10 comments) here here        
                                                      
The second comment at the second site supports        
(more vividly) a part of my comment at the first
site.  However, the comments at each site should
be read.  Also, Aaron McCollough's provocative:           
"Self-Consuming Artifacts ... towards an unquiet   
metaphysics"--which Ron Silliman provided a link
to--references and discusses Linh Dinh's post.
                                                        
Although bickerings over aesthetics are not       
without value, I prefer to observe and learn
from them.  That may change.  There appears to     
be a growing group of poets moving towards the
metaphysical, towards a positive metaphysics,
which is where--even when most down--I have    
always been.  Still, I usually am not a beat-the-
drum type.  I am too variegated.  Questions
ever haunt me.  As I once wrote: Uncertainty   
is my milieu.  That is why I often compare my
being to air.                                    
                                                       
I am posting this but it is still in draft.
                                                
Aaron McCollough has added a second post on
the topic of an "unquiet metaphysics".  As a
way in he reveals some childhood facts.  It
happens that mine are similar to his; so I am
going to reveal some of mine.  I was raised
as a Roman Catholic in Wisconsin in the 1940's
and 1950's.  Love of neighbor (and enemy) are
also important to me.  He cites a passage from
the Bible which imprinted itself in his mind.
One which has imprinted itself in my mind is
from the prayer to God the Father which Jesus
taught his disciples: . . . and forgive us our 
trespasses as we forgive those who trespass
against us.  Several years back I began to   
understand this passage in a way I had not   
so clearly understood it, and it was all due 
to the "as" in it.  What is being said here is  
that God the Father only needs to forgive us
our tresspasses to the extent that we are   
willing to forgive the tresspasses of others
against us.  Sadly, for me it is easier to   
do that than it is for me to forgive myself. 
                                                   
                                                     
                                                    
                                                
~                                                        ~
                        
Rho00055    

Intentionality

                                                          
                                                             
 My placing these words in this order in this space
is an example of evident intentionality.  Whether
through a visionary experience or months of rational
labor, whatever is kept (like a secret) in my mind    
is an object of hidden intentionality.  Hope lives in    
the former, and faith lives in the latter.  If no one
reads what I try to share, my hope and intentions will
not matter.  If I forget and cannot recall what was   
in my mind, my faith and intentions will not matter.
Actually, even if you discern my intentions and the  
signs I use here, they will only retain importance by
what you decide to do with them.  Infederowsah, Ishtin.
                                                       
But let me proceed to an explanation at EPC about     
"Uncreativity as a Creative Practice" 
by Kenneth Goldsmith.  The title seems oxymoronic,
but it is bluntly factual.  Mr. Goldsmith had set
himself the task of becoming totally uncreative  
by his fortieth birthday, and his present project,
tedious as it was/is, exemplified his best effort so
far toward that end.  He reveals the urges he's had
to subdue in order to successfully accomplish his
task.  We are managers of information, and cannot
be other.  The way he dresses befits this/ idea.
I have the feeling he is better suited than most
for doing what he does.  Not that most do not do
similar things.  It's just that most do them, not
because they see it as beyond choice, but rather
because sometimes they are beyond choice.  I was
a night auditor at mostly busy motels and hotels
for many years, during which the technologies   
used in the hospitality business changed often.
However, there were times when weather or error
caused those technologies to shut down, forcing
employees to resort to doing everything by hand.
Therein lies the point:  Regardless of the task,
creativity is creativity; and sometimes the more
difficult the task, the greater the creativity needed
to complete it.                                   
                                                      
I am beginning to suspect that, like the customer,
the intentionalities of an artifact's perceiver   
are ultimately more powerful than those of an        
artifact's maker.                                     
                                                       
                                                      
                                                    
?   

Rho00054                

Wordsworth on Fancy and Imagination

                                                        
                                                            
Had been reading through a selected version          
of William Wordsworth's The Prelude but have
broken off to read selections from his prose.
In the "Fancy and Imagination" one I came upon
three sentences of high (to me) interest.          
                                                 
   Fancy does not require that the               
   materials which she makes use of                  
   should be susceptible of change         
   in their constitution, from her      
   touch; and, where they admit of         
   modification, it is enough for her              
   purpose if it be slight, limited,                
   and evanescent.  Directly, the          
   reverse of these, are the desires          
   and demands of the Imagination.        
   She recoils from everything but         
   the plastic, the pliant, and the   
   indefinite.                              
                                                   
These words should make connection bells ring
in your brain.  They did in mine.               
                                                 
                                                 
                                              
-                                                
Source:  p. 437  The Selected Poetry and         
               Prose of Wordsworth  edited by           
      Geoffrey H. Hartman  Copyright © 1970              
      A Signet Classic  451-CJ854                 
      The Signet Classic Poetry Series         
      General Editor: John Hollander           
      New American Library, Inc.                
      Library of Congress Catalog Card Number:         
                                                  74-126353          
                                                    
                                                          
Rho00032 

3 sonnet notes

                                              
                                               
Several months ago Stan Apps posted two
of his sonnets on his blogspot blog.
In my comment about them one of my
remarks was: the essence of a sonnet is
the presentation of a difficulty
and a resolution.
-
While reading his sonnets              
it also occurred to me
that the resolution did not need
to follow the difficulty              
but could (through the use of some device)         
be intertwined with the difficulty.         
However, I did not mention that thought.
                                               
On Monday February 04, 2008, Ron Silliman
shared and wrote about on his blog 
several sonnets from
Geoffrey Young's The Riot Act.
After the last of those:                  
"Why I Don't Write Novels":              
his first words were:                       
"There is a calculated austerity here--. . . ."
Indeed.  And my thought because of it is:
Although a sonnet may have deeper meanings,
its content can be quite plain
on its surface.         
                          
                           
                           
Rho00031

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.   
   
              
            
                                                 
                                                      
                                                     
                                                           
                                                   
- - -                                             
See directory2007 in Catmap.                            
                                                      
                                                    
- - -                                                   
                                       
                                                       
Rho00028

               
                                                      

Ketjak replica

                                             
                                         
Although the pull to do so is there,
I did not expect someone actually would
set out to replicate the pattern of     
Ron Silliman's Ketjak as a means to
more fully appreciate that work, but--
to take one word from Kasey Mohammad's
comment beneath this poet's revealed
effort--doing so is "illuminating":  ~
                                              
                                           
                                                 
                                                                                 
                                                
                                                
                                                        
- - -                                                                
See directory2007 in Catmap.                 
                                       
                                                            
- - -                                                    
                              
Rho00027