yes and it's the poem that's the thing - not making mythology of a few
poets, who once they are established cannot put a foot wrong. A lot of us
just put a foot right now and again...
bw
SallyE

on 27/2/04 2:59 pm, grasshopper at [log in to unmask]
wrote:

> Dear Mike,
> It isn't meant to sound like a lecture -more a pondering upon ideas of
> poets. It's clearly signalled as opinion - I do not think', not as a
> statement of fact. In particular I was thinking about the idea that seems to
> be widely-held that poets feel things more strongly than other people. I
> think this is rubbish, -they just have a way with words so they can
> communicate their feelings expertly in the form of poetry. In other words,
> there are all sorts of poets -the only common factor being their skill with
> words. I actually find that so obvious, it shouldn't need to be expressed,
> but it's as if people prefer to think that poetry must be about higher,
> rarer thoughts and feelings, and that poets might be ultra-sensitive to
> experience. Nope, I think it's only in the articulation and structuring of
> experience in the form of poetry. Also, alas, being able to write a poem
> doesn't make a person wise, or mean they have any new or important
> philosophical insights to impart. Line-breaks don't impose any intellectual
> authority on a poem, though some people seem to feel they do.
> Because I've written like this about poets in a poem  -that apart from their
> way with words, they are not a sort of caste - obviously there's a bit of
> irony at work.. And I chose to describe the poet's gift with words in a very
> undignified - but affectionate way. Perhaps the underlying message of the
> poem is that we should take our poems seriously, we should never take
> ourselves as authors of poems too seriously.
> Kind regards,
> grasshopper
> 
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Mike Horwood" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Friday, February 27, 2004 9:44 AM
> Subject: Re: [THE-WORKS] New sub: Something about Poets
> 
> 
>> Hello Grasshopper,
> I feel that you adopt something of a haranguing tone in
> the opening lines of this poem and the diction and rhythm sound rather like
> a dissertation or lecture. As for the thesis you present, I think that
> whether the notion that poets are just like everyone else would meet general
> acceptance, depends very much on what we mean by `just like´. If we mean
> they are human, I guess there´s no cause for dissent. If we mean they all
> have black hair and grey eyes then the blue-eyed, blond(e) poets will be up
> in arms, if no one else. The feelings you specify, love, loss, ecstasy etc
> are maybe a bit too variable to support the thesis of everyone being the
> same. Did Byron love in the same way as Mother Theresa? I understand that
> your comment `no need for a cape or swept back hair...` is aimed at poets
> who are posers, though I may have misread your tone, but as you go on to
> say, `poets may be as silly or wise as the rest of us´ so presumably if
> silly poets want to dress up in a cape etc it´s their prerogative, though
> the wise among us may point a finger and say, `Look at that silly poet`. In
> the second part of the poem you present a view of the poet´s relationship
> with words and some of what you say I can go along with - nuance, history,
> for example - but the image of words as playful puppies strikes me as an odd
> one though that may well just be me.
> If I might digress into wider issues suggested by your poem:
> You don´t make a direct statement here, though I read it between the lines,
> and we have sometimes discussed it on the list, that poets should not issue
> proclamations about Life, or philosophise, or present grand opinions about
> this and that. I remember you´ve described it as the Moi principle. It´s an
> interesting question, I think, and as you know we differ on it. I certainly
> would not want to say that I think poets should pontificate on the meaning
> of life. Like a good post-modernist, I don´t believe in grand narratives. I
> do, however, think that a poet can treat of ideas and even personal views or
> opinions. And I also believe that of the poets who do that, some will be
> more interesting than others, partly because of their skill with words (here
> I think we agree) and partly because some people have more
> interesting/stimulating ideas than others and it´s worth considering those
> ideas (here I think we part company). Your poem seems to imply, and yourself
> have sometimes argued (if I have understood you right), that poetry is not
> the place for the poet to set out their ideas. I would agree with you that
> poets as a group are not necessarily different to any group of individuals,
> but would add, in both group there can be those who have very dull ideas and
> those whose ideas are fascinating. They can put them into poetic form, why
> not? In fact, isn´t that what you do here?
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Best wishes,   Mike
> 
> 
> 
> 
>> Lähettäjä: grasshopper <[log in to unmask]>
>> Päiväys: 2004/02/25 ke PM 04:53:44 GMT+02:00
>> Vastaanottaja: [log in to unmask]
>> Aihe: New sub: Something about Poets
>> 
>> Something about Poets
>> 
>> I do not think that a poet is any different
>> from any other mortal (and I try not
>> think what an immortal poet would write)
>> no different to any other person, feeling
>> love, loss, disappointment, pain, ecstasy,
>> in the mundane way these feelings flow
>> into all our lives. So a poet lives,
>> breathes, experiences as we all do, no need
>> for a cape or swept back hair or that faraway
>> colour in the gaze, as wise and silly as
>> the rest of us - only, the poet has a gift
>> with words - those little snips of text
>> and sound, trailing their long tails
>> of nuance, significance, history behind
>> them, gather at the poet's feet
>> like hopeful puppies. Words love the poet.
>> Take me home they cry. Love me
>> and I will never run away. And in return
>> the poet bends, scoops them up, musses
>> their fur, plays boop-de-doo with them.
>> They gambol around the poet's toes
>> or hide in corners, begging to be found.
>> Ah, says the poet, with affection, you devils,
>> you'll be the death of me.
>> 
>> .....................(grasshopper)
>>