Q and A

To William Carlos Williams

Sound/chaos

 falls from

the heart of the pen

rhythmically organised

or madness unfolded

language laughing

literate illiterally

building blocks of structure

scripture visions

fired from the burning

crossbows of Gods

and the Damned

a thought expanded

mind remanded and

reprimanded

searching perfect syllable

in the fog and the funk

for that perfect

                    that perfect

expression

of the life of 

the poet

emotionally charged

and over spilling

with pneumatic noise

Reviews

[AJNJ]

Is there a perfect expression, a perfect poem for a poet thus charged with emotion and full of such conflicting themes and visions? A poet's mind is so dynamic. In a moment it's a stairway to heaven and the next it's the gates to Dante's Hell. Loved the images 'pneumatic noise' carried to me. Air puffs up yet is still so empty. No point in reprimanding the overactive mind. All a poet can do is snatch away and salvage what seems meaningful from the chaff it keeps churning out. This is the best we can do in our quest for perfection.

[gram linski]

thanks for the great review, Pestonjee, I think all us poets strive for that perfect syllable, only a very few ever find it but that is the joy and pain of writing, that's what keeps bringing us back again and again, searching for that elusive stanza of perfection

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Great stuff, the search for the perfect syllable...finding that perfect word to express, to fit, to become family with the other words and hold a happy and heartfelt reunion there in the midst our offering. Here's to the treasure hunt, my friend.

[gram linski]

have yet to find it yet, Fabian but still I search, thanks for your time appreciate the read

[Papaya]

I've not read much of WCW, so I'd never pick up on any connection or not to his work but it's a solid poem. I can relate. It's probably less about perfection
As it is about being heard

[gram linski]

very true, Ana, it's more about being heard, and hopefully understood, don't think many of us mere poets reach that perfect line, thanks for the review, much appreciated

[S.zaynab.kamoonpury]

Wow and you spill the heart of the pen awesomely here, enjoyed the line of alliteration as well, a fine description of poetic muse. Kudos!

Plz Pleez do read and comment my newest poem too, right on top of my page.

[gram linski]

thanks for the great review, glad you enjoyed , appreciate the comments

[Robert Trakofler]

always the hunger for the perfect line... insatiable and unavoidable my friend:) tap tap tap strike and scrawl commit and fall and start all over again the next day:) nice to see I am in good company Mr. Gram:) It is also nice to be in a place where we can support each other in our collective madness

[gram linski]

hey BB, that is spooky as f**k I was just about to review your new poem, insatiable and unavoidable
indeed, friend, and if we are the collectively mad, then I am glad I picked this side of the fence, always appreciate your insight, wit, and intelligent words and visits, Mr B, hope you take care over there

[Ruth]

Gram, I have to say, this is a favourite for me so far :) I can't tell you how much your wording moves me in this piece. You have such a talent for expressive visuals. The process of art from the heart brought alive here renders me absolutely motionless for a while, seriously wonderful :)

[gram linski]

thanks for the great review, Ruth, it was based on a Q and A with WCW, so I took my lead from him, glad you enjoyed, much appreciated

[DAH]

"a thought expanded
mind remanded and
reprimanded
searching perfect syllable
in the fog and the funk

for that perfect

that perfect

expression" –––– love this truth!

This poem is perfection--in--expression.

Excellent!
DAH

[gram linski]

thanks a lot, DAH, much appreciate your great review, and your enjoyment of my poem ,thanks again

[DAH]

My pleasure!

[emmajoy]

Phrases set aside for future use or words that drop into the mind as if by magic? For what it's worth I decided to merely do 'my best'. Since a child,, have read and felt so much poetry I should dress in it! But, long ago accepted my MIDDLE name will never be Shelley, Keats or the like, but Joy. If merely once in a flower moon I can offer a little of that word to just one person, I'll have placed a star in the night.

Of course one should try to achieve the best, the most worthy and memorable. Yet, if it saps the heart or mind and disillusions one - why self-flagellate when scourges only leave red marks not gold medals. Tis said that everyone has a book within: maybe the magic for someone aspiring to be a poet is that one day, who knows when - that special phrase will make another being pause, perhaps gasp, inhale, smile.. FEEL. That's what matters, says EJG, the imperfect but ever hopeful!

Your first stanza stands alone, it builds and climbs higher than - Yours is such a thoughtful poem.. full of gusto yet a calmness that does the reader good in this strange time. Thank you.

[gram linski]

thanks emmajoy, I don't think many of us will reach the heady heights of those poets, glad you enjoyed, hope is never a bad thing, appreciate the great review, take care

[.]

This is a fine description of the craft, dear gram. I guess we are always searching for that perfect line and syllable that will make our illiterate thoughts and the chaos in our mind, read literate and smooth sounding on the page. Your biblical reference is quite astute as well; we are like Gods in some ways, firing off our crossbowed thoughts and hoping they hit the target. I have read "The Red Wheelbarrow" by WC Williams and i believe in much of his writing he, too fired off crossbows of thoughts, some that sounded illiterate but hit their targets more often than not. I guess we just have to pile up those crossbow bolts and keep on firing. Much enjoyed this writing, as I do all of your works. :))

[gram linski]

hey, Jamila, not sure any of us will ever find that perfect line or syllable, and all we can do is to continue to fire those crossbow bolts in the hope of hitting the target on occasion, thanks for the great review, much appreciated

[gram linski]

I do have a back catalogue, you might enjoy Dusty old shed,

[Beccy]

I liken the poetic mind to a dormant volcano, always active beneath the surface and prone to erupting at any time and without warning; the resultant outpouring of molten lava carving it's own unstoppable and often unpredictable path.

It's the same with that elusive perfect syllable or expression; which is why I keep a small notepad and pen with me at ALL times.

Much enjoyed this.

Beccy.

[gram linski]

thanks, Beccy, aye you are right, before blue tooth and smart phones I used to walk about with a Dictaphone, looked like a right bam , lol thanks for the review, much appreciated

[Eilis]

In a poem about writing a poem, and where you invoke the sometime chaos of the process and product, you manage to offer something rife with the melody of poetry. I like the contrast. Like saying—here is my chaos, and in it there is a unique kind of order. The ringing of windchimes or that strike of thunder that spreads slowly then explodes. The patterns differ and are not predictable, but they offer this stirring music nonetheless.

Love your use of alliteration, your repetition of certain sounds to kind of underline the structure in randomness. William Wordsworth said: ‘poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.’ I couldn’t help but think of that idea after reading your poem. Like where does a poem come from and how does it know what to say and how to say it. And so often that automatic voice is consistent, so clearly it belongs to us, it’s just a part we have less control over. Like the chaos at the beginning of time itself. Creation does not spring from tidiness but rather from a place of almost confusion or mania at times. The need to undress the moment in mind and understand something that isn’t exactly explicitly understood.

Williams’ (probably) most famous poem begins with the thought—‘so much depends / upon / a red wheel / barrow,’ and I think your poem kind of encompasses this idea. So much depends on what we see or feel and how it unravels in our minds. Then the inner thing takes over, the invisible hand thing, and the words fall as they may. Sometimes chaotic and sometimes symmetrical or ringing like a set of golden bells—in perfect scale. Cool poem, Gram.

[gram linski]

hey, Eilis, Wordsworth was a wise man indeed, the chaos/creation ideas that you talk about are hopefully what I was trying to convey, like who writes, the poet or the poem, I think we are just vessels to allow the poetry to break free in all it's myriad forms, sometimes chaotic and sometimes like golden bells in perfect scale, once again I thank you for your deep insightful thoughts, always appreciate your time and great reviews, they are very much appreciated