poetry | oceans and fire

I don’t believe that poets have more feelings than people that are not artistically inclined. I think poets allow their feelings to live their lives more unencumbered than is common. That freedom overflows to the page.

I have given myself permission to experience my emotions as intense as they are, and to respond to that intensity without concern for the scrutiny of observers.

It is a self-sustaining system. You affirm your feelings and they intensify. Likewise, if you suppress your feeling, you will know them less and less until you will not be able to say or write about them with accuarcy.

I was once in a theatre full of people, at a concert, where I was the only one dancing. I don’t think that happened because I am irrepressible and the only one present that experienced the music as moving. I was just willing to be publicly devastated by it.

Poetry is all blood and pauses. I look forward to closing the door on fiction for a time, and dedicating myself to poetry. In fiction, you have to withhold some of your blood or the work would be unreadable. In fiction, you need to know how to use that fine brush, perhaps the finest brush. That Japanese brush that costs thirty dollars and has only five camel hairs. You need to establish commonality. But poetry comes out like arterial spray and needs to hit like an arrow shot through your spine as to cripple you. At least that is the way I like my poetry.