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Sunday, August 30, 2009

Poems/Poetry/Poeta

Did some aggressive submitting of my poems this weekend. Now, comes the hardest part. The wait. I have been wondering about this recently. What binds me to poetry. I kept coming back to this question while reading Anne Blonstein's the blue pearl, an exquisite collection of poems. let me say it out loud, i envy anyone who can come up with lines like the ones blonstein have written. it's what i expect poetry to be--personal, political, abstract, concrete, accessible, inaccessible, steeped in history, universal. in short, a mode of expression which allows me to feel and think language differently. to touch the inherent theoretical and abstract in language. and that's why, i indulge in writing poetry myself. although, i am not a poet. not yet.

There have been times when I have been annoyed by the recent trend in American poetry to tell neat stories. I mean, it's not that I am averse to the idea of narrative poems. In fact, one of my most favorite piece in recent times is Slave Moth by Thylias Moss, a novel in verse. But even when I am reading a narrative poem, I expect the writing to move into spaces where conventional prose cannot. To find out the lyricism in the plot. To find out the abstract in the characters' voices. To explore the theoretical in the story which can only be done through the fragmentation of language which poetry often demands. I don't think my work has yet reached that space, but I am trying. I am trying to be both a poet and a fiction writer, and sometimes, I feel I am getting lost in the process. Although, often times, I also feel that exploring both the forms have made me aware of both the intersections and the divergences, and I feel a little bit grateful to myself.

Meanwhile, the diss is looming large in the background, demanding more and more and more attention!

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