on up & up on


1 kommentar:

troylloyd sa...

one would assume this posting took all of 1.5 minutes, but that's not the case.

one of the main bugbears associated with this form of minimalist poetics is that what you think you've just thought of has already been written. (in some cases 35 years ago!)

so before posting, i didda search via Geof Huth's blog (where if anywhere,something like this would turn up), there's no way i could google "upon" & find what i was trying to find.

so at dbqp i searched w/ the keyword "upon" & of course gotta lotta listings.

i was found it pleasurable that the final posting from my search was entitled "Endwords", and it's the penultimate posting on the blog (altho it's really the 2nd posting)

it was fun combing thru and seeing a few posts i had missed & being reminded of some things forgotten.

i never did find


but i could've missed it or it could be published somewhere on paper yet to pixellate the infosphere or the everbrilliant endwar might've posted it inna comment stream somewheres.

it's a fairly simple construction, so chances are it has been already written.

it struck me like atonna brix today how crucial it is to try & research a little before commiting a "claim" on something
a piece i did which was:

i've been estranged from my library as all my books are in storage. the other day i retrieved a few vital books i wanted to reread & when reading "this book is a movie"(pub. by Dell in 1971), i came across a Ronald Johnson poem from "the songs of the earth" which had the figuration of form from form
from form from
form from form
(a 9 block grid)

so, i was kinda bummed out,

but the opening line:
"poem upon poem" is which gifted me

i had been taking pictures of what few relevant works i had in books for the Vispo forum's 'classics'
& many pix i had to take sideways 'n then rightsideup 'em during digi-transfer - when i came to R.J.'s poem - the 'upon' jumped out at me for some reason & birthed the simple construction. (which may even be no bigdeal anyways because it could be argued that "so what?" or "ndou don't meena thang!"

anyroads, it's always enjoyable going thru dbqp & here's a few klippoklistra :

"...writing is hard. And minimalist writing is naturally harder, since the smallest misstep can be an avalanche."

There’s no money in poetry, but then there’s no poetry in money, either.
—Robert Graves, poet and novelist (1895-1985)

Roy Arenella =


[reminded i need to get a copy of Monica Aasprong's "Soldatmarkedet"]


I think the need to publish is related to the need to write: it defines you as a person, as a thinker. Publishing helps announce your aesthetics, for yourself and others. It helps make you real so that you can wake up each morning positive that you have legs & can walk & can breathe.

[was introduced to Adriano Spatola’s Zeroglyphics from 1966 (english version 1977),which i had never seen before.]

[another introduction : Jonathan Brannen's poetry]

Sometime today, someone found my blog while searching for two terms: “xerography” and “transmogrification.” When I followed the link coming towards my blog, I discovered not only the two terms, but also the fact that Google can find only one page on the Internet that includes both these terms—a fact just changed by today’s posting.
[& this post which i thought was really cool 'cause i'm the one who phrase-searched "xerographic transmogrification"!]

[Chris Fritton is a certified genius in my book]
The afternoon’s events began with William Howe running a discussion of how visual poetry can be performed, can be made oral. Chris Fritton made the point that visual poem texts are often so “estranged from language” that they beg to be performed. He used the example of his shoeprint poem from yesterday. Fritton had carved words into the soles of sneakers, walked in some ink, and inked impressions across a large piece of paper. He explained that a second impression of the same sneakerstamp could, because of the varying clarity of the print, engender a different reading. I suggested at one point that we should look at the walls around us (covered with visual poetry) to aid in our discussion.

As I sit here tonight, however, I’m not thinking so much about the visual elements of the poem; I’m considering how much the poem expects of the reader. In parts, the poem is an aural delight, so some might be drawn in by the sound, but this poem requires a hyperliterate readership. I think, sometimes, that is what ruins poetry for the rest of the world; they don’t want to take the time to learn enough about poetry (and the limitless interests of poetry) to be good readers. That would be too much work for them. They want to read a poem that stands on its own—being just literate enough to believe that is possible.

[good to see the wonderful Words in Motion are still in motion]

Readers of Visual Poetry

The other day I ran across the following quotation, attributed to the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge:

Readers may be divided into four classes:

1. Sponges, who absorb all that they read and return it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtied.

2. Sand-glasses, who retain nothing and are content to get through a book for the sake of getting through the time.

3. Strain-bags, who retain merely the dregs of what they read.

4. Mogul diamonds, equally rare and valuable, who profit by what they read, and enable others to profit by it also.

What weird terminology, I first thought. But then I wondered what categories I could devise for readers of visual poetry, using Coleridge’s schema as a guide:

We might divide the readers of visual poetry into four categories:

1. The eyeful, who understand visual poems only as pictures, never comprehending their verbal or textual aspects.

2. The marble-eyed, who allow their consciousness to drift over works of visual poetry, but who can perceive nothing of note upon those surfaces.

3. The one-eyed, who see without any depth and always interpret visual poetry by only one of its aspects, seeing only a painting or a drawing or a poem or a jumble of words.

4. The clear-eyed, who can see and understand the synergy that holds a good visual poem together.

That’s how I see it, at least.

Specifically, I’m concerned about the preservation of the burgeoning web ring of poets, visual and otherwise, who now inhabit the Internet maybe more so than they inhabit (in our consciousness, at least) the paper world. The ability of simple blogging and HTML tools to revolutionize the delivery of poetry and encourage a widespread discussion of poetry is a renaissance much more powerful than we could have expected from a world of paper magazines and poetry readings—no matter how much we would like that not to be true.