Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Change and fallowness

I'm sitting here at the keyboard while vegetables burn in the kitchen and my poems for this weekend's readings are rehearsing themselves upstairs. I found myself feeling oddly disheartened about my poetry this week, at the same time that I was picking and rehearsing the poems from my book to read. I found myself thinking that it has been awhile since I wrote one that I felt about as I feel about these.

Fallow field syndrome, I guess. That and work-work bizzyness. Poetry requires a certain kind of dream-time, maybe something sort of like the aboriginal dream-time, or meditative states, or ... a cave.

And while I'm fallow-ish, Poetry and as Megalopoet pointed out, Paris Review, those two lit-pillars, are if not toppling, certainly shuddering. Change is unsettling, and icons should only be disturbed once a decade or so.

Follow the fallowness and it will probably turn over, is my guess. As will Poetry and Paris.

3 comments:

  1. Hannah9:11 AM

    "Poetry requires a certain kind of dream-time, maybe something sort of like the aboriginal dream-time, or meditative states, or ... a cave."

    Oh, isn't that the truth! A little "fallow" time is good, though, I think. Somewhere, the mind is mulling what to plant next season. Or something like that....

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  2. congrats on your review in pedestal. sounds like a scrumptious read.

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  3. Hannah -- fallow time has changed to sick time, which often happens with me when I DON'T give myself the fallow time. Other planting metaphors come to mind ...

    Megalo -- thanks for reading the Pedestal review. My head's still coming down to normal size. I hope Femme au chapeau is a worthy read. Did my best. Now working on another, v-e-r-y slowly.

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