The Sonic blues

to all the English teachers an explanation (of sorts ), lol,

The man in my dreams

speaks in tongues

        undecipherable snakes

looping whirling f*****g

    a heaving wriggling

        

            mass

               unknown muse

        in a language 

              

                  long dead

the pen translates

     the static

     Akashic        feedback

                               BOOM

it leaks from the eagle

                   feather

               blood tipped

            creating strange

            nebulas  shapes

                       upon my blank

                                       page

Reviews

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I think they call it dyslexia with a delusional state in the trade. Hey you survived English to go on and become a poe inspired genius poet lad! As always your writing if full of challenging images and phrases but all placed carefully on the shelf! (the other side is inspiration, and indeed you are!)

[gram linski]

thanks John, have always been a genius poet,dude
just no - one else understood, boom boom,
delusional my arse,

[barleygirl]

I love this description of how it might feel for some writers . . . especially the ones who write stuff that others find unintelligible half the time! I spent the last four years here at the cafe unlearning 30 years of technical writing (linear, logical, literal) & trying to be more "nuanced" (a nice nebulous word for it!) So I often wonder what's going on in the minds of people who write the way you do & many others . . . Bad Bunny comes to mind . . . Sinister Potato . . . (bad to start listing people cuz I'm missing dozens). I have come a long way -- at least now I don't feel obligated to try to find something that I understand in a poem that I completely do not understand . . . now I can just appreciate your process, so emphatically described here! *wink! wink!* Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

haha, thanks Margie, Bad Bunny and Sinister Potato and linski too, what bad company you choose to keep, did you hear the joke about a bunny a potato and a linski walked into an open mic night and the bouncer said you three can get to f**k, lol, did a poetry course a while ago, was taught about format and the rhythm and the rhyme and had to burn it all, when I started to write for myself, keep on misunderstanding the misunderstood, winks, fondly,

[barleygirl]

I wish I had half your wit, you gimlet!

[gram linski]

so do I, lol,

[NotUsinganymore]

Very interesting poem. It was interesting, but strange.

[gram linski]

Thanks Jung, most of my poetry is, lol

[R.E. Ray]

On target or not, this poem reminds me of my English literature classes. Dare I say I despise Shakespeare? Truly can't read his work. I think it's because everyone but me interpreted him and the other "great" ones in high school and college. Of course, they stole their interpretations from some other pinheads. They might as well have read the English classics in Russian... I would've gained nothing less. I'm probably so far off-course, but I suppose that's okay if I speak for myself. Good one, sir.

[gram linski]

haha, great review, but you are so off course you are on another course very far away, lol, got f**k all to with old Will I'm like you never saw the point of the wisened old f****r, thanks for reading and misunderstanding, lol

[R.E. Ray]

You're welcome, sir. I'm often blissfully ignorant. :)

[gram linski]

It's called blissful for a reason, dude, me too,

[Eilis]

Sounds like an epic out of body experience. I can relate to that. But you also have something that sounds like magic. I don't have that. Or an eagle feather. Can I have an eagle feather?

Honestly, I do understand the concept. I went through a period of about three years where I wrote at least three poems a day and every one was like some involuntary stage in an exorcism. The demon shaking itself loose. I didn't really have any control over how or when it came, but I did know when it came I had to just let it do it's thing or I'd not be able to rest. I was kind of glad when that intensity subsided, but then I felt like I'd been abandoned because it all just stopped for awhile. I thought I had written every ounce of that energy out. Just in the last several months have I been able to write again. I can't make it happen, it just has to happen on its own.

It's very mysterious. I don't get it at all. But, I love the way you describe it here because you really get at the urgency and mystifying nature of it all. I have like 400 poems in an online database that I browse through now and then and there are many I stand back and ask myself "who the f**k wrote this?" I am jealous of the person who wrote some of my poems because I don't have access to that same mind. I sound a little crazy, but this poem tells me you understand. So, it's good to know I'm not actually crazy, ha.

Very cool description of the creative process/mind, Gram. Don't think anyone else could say it quite like this. Which means it's all true. The invisible hand.

[gram linski]

Thank f**k someone else understands, John thinks I've got dyslexia and Ray thinks it's about Shakespeare, lol, not unless he's started automatic writing in Sanskrit, 10/10 for understanding, as for crazy, don't think my boundaries are as narrow as most folk, I too have a rake of poems written by/about the Inivisble hand, it's everyone else that is crazy , we in the know know, and we know we know, and all our favourite rock stars know too :)