Wednesday, October 7, 2015

in response to a classmate's concept of 'the perceived separation of the poet from society' [2010]

would it not be necessary for the poet to be perceived by society in the first place     
before one could even begin to consider the secondary (somewhat flattering) notion of 
a perceived separation from said society?

  only the poet     in his fantastic arrogance     could contrive     
such a delicious negligence     
such a precious alienation

only the poet could imagine such a significance     while concurrently carving  
                            another thin     sparing slice of his allotted government cheese

in "reality"     which is often disregarded    
this "separation" is his true sustenance

suffice to say     if the poet were suddenly perceived     by some strange twist of design     
as a vital and necessary component of society     he most certainly would not be

 
                                                         addendum                                                         
                                                         this poet is not                                                         
                                                         I                                                         
                                                         and is therefore not                                                         
                                                         another

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

the punishment [2009]

if you were recognized as
an accomplice to
the theft of
that singling still instant
you'd be strung up, too
by that which is
your most tender
and sincere

you'd be suspended
alongside a dozen other
dribbling danglers
in an observance of
your treacherous failure

you'd not be allowed
a final free-write
and the tainted pages of
your carnal-crafted journal
would be bloodrags
beneath you

Sunday, October 4, 2015

periodic...table...(of the)...elements… [2011]

eleven men     (and eyes)     grown into plaintive beards stood 
before the evening of a tricked utopia     mumbling monosyllabic sweat and
atomic numbers (Strontium: 38     Meitnerium: 109)

W H A T  D O  Y O U  S E E ?
[
t
h
i
s

i
s
"
n
o
"

p
e
r
i
o
d

(
.
)
]

T H E  T A B L E  &  M E .

seven men     (and an eye)     grown beyond plaintive beards fell
into the morning of a standard chaos     screaming verbose sausages and
atomic numbers (Copper: 29     Neptunium: 93)

I N T R O D U C I N G :  the elements, etc.

...

Saturday, October 3, 2015

this song [2010]

lately 
stifled by
sugar-swollen sinuses
and a cold  (staggering time)
this voice has been rendered
tentative  tired     and weak

but a quick, quiet recovery
is currently being composed --
                                                  without rhyme
                                                  formal structure
                                                  or antihistamine
it is this song

(wellness is an elusive art)

Thursday, October 1, 2015

letter [2011]

August 2, 2011


To whom it may concern:

Learning is never [a thing] about politics or theory isn't also.  One must expect to be blindsided by this again, and again, and again.  (One might also expect it again.)  It is not only a gathering of spots outside one's particular constellation, but also, quite specifically, a childhood memory.  When working with this structure, one must construct a finale from torn-out family secrets and an obligatory confession, and essentially compose a memory poem in prose (this is the obligatory form).  The events that occurred in the Gun Room are a crass example of this, while the accompanying text is proof positive that the comma is not devastating.  (Somebody said something about devastation, and then went on, and on, and on...)

[                    ]

Learning is never [a thing] about Allen Ginsberg, but is something wholly other for all those who've never read Howl.  (These apostates are political skeletons stripped of their most significant representations, and, therefore, must rattle themselves to be heard and historicized.)  Alternately, a rewrite/revision requires a tractable embouchure and a penchant for aesthetic provocation, or simply a textbook that outlines the syntactical approach to the dilemma.  Regardless, it is not necessary to name your enemies, as they should become quite revealed to the reader upon his/her analysis of the between-the-lines subtext.  This is very important work.  As a matter of fact, one might say it's the work of a dream poem (the "I"s...).

[               ]

Learning is never [a thing] about breaking the line or social practice.  The line is ALWAYS already broken, and one must adapt one's ecstatic social process to incorporate the steps that present themselves as a direct result of this.  (Note: Do not allow political rage or the misinterpretation of a dream to cloud your better judgement.)  In order to have it be misconstrued, one must place "it" upon a stage and assign "it" the most mundane -- and incorrect -- of marks.  Do not underestimate the importance of this staging, or the resulting spots to be occupied by commercial advertisements.  Also, be sure to incorporate any news photo that might assist in corroborating your story; that might make clear the time that you have allocated.  (Example: It is now 10:10 PM.)

[                                   ]

Learning is never [a thing] about constructive criticism and is never an exercise in using meter.  (Let us take a moment to say a prayer for these things: [.....].)  Poetry (which is learning written) should be a social practice that observes the theory of one thing and its antecedent.  (That one thing is __________, and its antecedent is currently unavailable.)  What one is attempting to execute, in the end, is the proper placement of the I, and one must exhaust all resources in order to achieve this goal.  (One might consider a villanelle as a means of realizing -- formally -- a division or truncation of the I.  This is something to which many have resigned themselves, and it will suffice as a substitute for, or rather, a simulation of, the proper placement of said I.)

[                         ]

Learning is never [a thing] or most other things.  It is an engagement with the ridiculous, or the inane, or the violent, or the surreal, or the confusing, or the incoherent, or the audacious, or the ignorant, or the man who bummed a cigarette from you outside the Quik Mart this morning.  (Perhaps he asked you about 'Cuba'?)  

G. Matthew Mapes is attempting to extract a crippled knowledge from you and those others who have been dehistoricized, with the ultimate goal of constructing something awkwardly wrong (or right -- it makes no difference to him), or, at least, something that resembles it.  This is his class; this is his home.

[to be removed]

"And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything?  Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it's necessary
to talk about trees."
  -- Adrienne Rich

Trees, indeed.  (It is trees.)


Naturally,



Anise A. Thiele-Columbry
Associate Director, Dept. of Critical Thinking
The Brobst Conservatory