I like the short poems, the ones that pop into my head almost fully written and require almost no effort from me, not just because I am lazy but also I think they are some of my best. Brevity is the soul of wit, if something is right, it’s right, and you don’t need a lot of words to convey a simple thought.
I like the quote from Gertrude Stein: I don’t like to write. I like having written.
Such a one popped into my head this morning at about 10 to 7, just as I was getting off the bus on my way to an early morning lesson, and it was still dark:
People are oblivious
they do not know
that they do not know
nor do they even care
Sometimes, however,it doesn’t work like that. Sometimes I get an idea and turn it around in my head for weeks, so if you see me on the tram counting out syllables on my fingers or muttering under my breath ‘day, may, jay, way, it’s O.K., your mama’s toupee..’ or something like that, that’s what’s going on.
At the moment, it’s one I got in my head about a week ago while out walking and saw a branch on the ground, probably fell from its tree in one of the rainstorms we’ve had recently, nothing serious, but there are always a few branches which fall, and I decided to write a poem on the subject of art trouvé, so I’m just using this blog to think out loud.
I’ve got the first stanza, about finding the log on the ground, and then Id like another one about all the different forms it can take, sticks, stones, and piney cones. Then one about how it’s the most anarchistic of art forms, and random, it does not depend on any author interference at all, it’s just totally in tune with the universe, so maybe a sacred art form in terms of Earth worship, and then one about how we’re all obsessed with making the world a better place but maybe the key is just to stop fucking it up because the world is already a pretty amazing place, maybe the key to utopia is reduction and not construction.
So, we’ll see how it comes out, if it comes out, and thank you for giving me thisopportunity to think aloud.