Poetic Approaches


This is my fifth year posting a poem per day during April
for National Poetry Writing Month.

I must qualify my participation; I am bringing forth poems already written but never posted publicly.

Once I believed that creative souls produce their most authentic work in a frenzy of inspiration. This is the modern myth of the Artist as oracle or prophet; a being so special she/he just has to get it out there in one inspired spasm. To alter or to edit the art is to make it less authentic; it is spasmodically delivered in finished form (rather like vomiting or excretion). But as I matured poetically and reconsidered things I moved away from this model. I realized that stream-of-consciousness dribbles, spurts, rants and visionary diatribes make for boring art. A different approach to poetry stresses craftsmanship, structure, and goes against the model of Artist as mystically-inspired Other.  It is also message-oriented. I represent this second tendency.

I am not writing one-a-day for April in response to prompts. These are drafts I have been saving for National Poetry Month. I have been reworking, polishing, and finishing these poems for my readers. They have been faithfully and obsessively crafted.

 And remember:
When you own the POETRY

the POETRY owns YOU !

 

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Ides of March

Lines  that  Suck  the  Bitch’s  Tit

DIIS MANIBUS
The spells, the rites, the pomp, the victims fled,
The fanes all desert, and the lares dead.
Timothy Dwight

O vicious household gods of Rome
you Manes, Lares, Muses, Fates
who graced each crass patrician home,
whose reign this poem celebrates,

Allow me now, in retrospect
to excavate, then analyze.
Depravity with cause, connect;
depriving you of alibis.

Relax your stiff noetic poise
as my plebeian pen records
through lyrical poetic noise
the crown imperial crime awards.

My lines, like foundlings, long to suck
a mother’s milk in measured draft
and dredge some gold from Tiber’s muck;
Dear Lord: illuminate my craft.

ROMULUS, let that wolf-tit go
and REMUS too—unlatch that breast . . .
milk of Etruscan madness, flow,
with empire’s crimes forthwith confessed.

We will not blame your leaden wares
nor ergot mold in rancid bread
for genocidal state affairs,
brutality, and martyred dead.

The Circus, leering, restless, loud,
cheers gladiatorial excess.
The haunted forum’s phantom-crowd
awaits the tyrant’s next address.

He speaks. The wind blows through the arches
stirring up the roadside litter.
Trumpets blare. The legion marches.
Empire’s aftertaste is bitter.

You were Antichrist. That is all.
We cannot dignify your past
or glorify from whence you fall
or praise the mold from which you’re cast.

Christ traveled far from Galilee;
came, saw, conquered—and on it goes.
Our king shall reign eternally;
that she-wolf’s milk no longer flows.

 

National Poetry Writing Month

2015

1. Stuff Poetry Hates
2. Portrait of a Pre-Madonna
3. Tulips for the Fire
4. Paint Saul as St. Paul
5. Scaffold the Sky
6. When Cows Come Home
7. Social Work-Out
8. Spending Down Ideals
9. Reply to a Bumpersticker
10. Beatnik Disembarks from Bardo Plane
11. Vajra Cast From Golden Heights & Leopard Spotted
12. Welsh Revival
13. Godless Bluegrass
14. Tarot Arcana VII
15. Santería
16. The Selection of Sex and Descent in Relation to Man
17. Autonomy in Catatonia
18. Benighted Nations
19. Lines that Suck the Bitch’s Tit
20. Unfortunate Juxtapositions
21. Poultry in Motion
22. To Birds who Swim in Fishy Notions
23. View from the Mortal Portal
24. Eye of Delusion
25. Hello Porneia & Hymn to Intellectual Curiosity
26. Vaginalia
27. Behold—We Come
28. Ungu Malungu, the King of Ace
29. Freethinkers Unchained
30. Data at the Helm

NaPoWriMo 2015

 

Penultimate NaPoWriMo Post 2015

NaPoWriMo 2015

Dang. I thought yesterday’s poem,
Freethinkers Unchained was one of my best.
I unleashed it on the waiting world
and got ONE FREAKING VIEW in 24 hours ha ha ha.
I guess Satan is STILL ruling this planet…

Thank you Lord for the blessings of poetic creation in a void.

Meanwhile, oh loyal legions of followers,
get ready for my final NaPoWriMo poem.
(The 4 of you really need to pay attention.)