Being a person who writes poetry is a hard person to be. People can be cruel by default. In aversion to the draw towards thought, they can tear you apart in mere moments.(ex. "Hey, cry much lately?" or "Nice poem, IS YOUR MOM REALLY DEAD?"or "Don't slit your wrists about it..."or even the simple, "huh." with a dismissive shrug can be the murderer. )
Poetry is not taken seriously in most ordinary situations. At least not in the same way economists with big calculators are taken seriously. Or the way Women with neat printing and 5 languages and a seat at the UN are. Or the way soccer players with big foreheads and scholarships and dollar bills are. Yes. Writing poetry seems to hold no promise of anything most men and women would label: "SUCCESS"
"LOVE", is maybe the reason there is so much poetry out in the air. But my friend Frank is always writing poetry and he told me that the girls just don't read it right, and then they just leave him! The girls are always leaving him. And there Jane is, always writing verses for Dustin, but he likes beer and wrestling so she is pretty much a wasted spirit.
What really is the point of it all? What is the point of writing when nobody seems to be willing to read?
Sometimes it seems like an empty existence when the people we want to share our souls (or our brain's neurons receptics, or our emotional white blood cells or whatever it is that make us feel) with, turn out to be people who think we are emotionally unstable because we write in fragmented sentences with unusual spacing. My sister showed me a book today by P.A Rusell, and I thought that this next quote here, pinned the tail on the mule or whatever.
Letters To A Young Poet
Dear Poet,
Do it for the money. Spend it all on booze and tweed coats until you end up at McLean Hospital with electrodes attached to your head. Keep writing anyway on dirty floors, walls and mattresses 'til they pry the empty pen from your warm, capable hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment