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On Her Blindness
Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy,
And moon-struck madness.
—John Milton
you've made a fool of yourself again Ms. Jones
there must be half a dozen of you
Jones fools capering around by now
blindness mixed with overweening
pride you're as ridiculous as a man on a pool noodle
others trying to figure out how to deal with you kindly
they don't snicker you're somewhat alarming
a powerhouse of illusion they're a little worried
you think you know what's happenin' Ms. Jones
have a theory for every part
that doesn't quite fit
this is the real motivation
this part is just games
this part is ego you proceed
sure of yourself well not sure
you're not sure of anything
you're guessing
about your own feelings too
but each time when you act
in accord with your theories
the unpredictable occurs
rivers of silt wash beneath your twinkletoes
you fall down in the fast flow of it
you roll and tumble into the cave of confusion
because there's an alternate theory
unsatisfying as hardtack
gummed by a scurvied sailor
a !@#$ to swallow
to equally explain the facts
you keep forgetting about it
since you're nuts
as well as blind
then when the unexpected occurs
you think hmm wait can it be
that I have this all wrong
and you are sucked down to a dantean
chasm of humiliation
spinning spinning oh my god
your pretensions are funky crawdads
it wasn't ambivalence
not anger
not fear
it was the alternate theory
unhhhh your throat closes
you were quite wrong
you were comically
catastrophically
theatrically
& quite
wrong
though you have never been more human
you actually love yourself for being such a jackass
are you going
to forget again
no you say
too exhausting trying
to look dignified
on this pink noodle
nobody gets hurt this time
the hurtful iterations
are long over
echoes resonances
plangent little basho sound
frog-
plop
w.....o.....r.....l.....d p.....e.....a.....c .....e
'
'
'
Last edited by pjouissance, Oct/8/2010, 12:48 pm
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Oct/6/2010, 1:18 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Auto,
The Bob Dylan song came to mind immediately. Probably unintentional on your part; maybe not. Maybe parody or satire. I will come back to this later today or in a couple of days. Zak
"Ballad of the Thin Man" by Bob Dylan
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones
]pjouissance wrote:
you think you know what's happenin' Ms. Jones
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Oct/6/2010, 1:34 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Trust me, Zak, the song was foremost in my mind.
Thanks for reading,
Auto
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Oct/6/2010, 2:20 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Auto,
I trust you. Because of your age, I wasn't sure you were familiar with Dylan, and if familiar, "how" familiar. I'll get back to this. Thanks, Zak
quote: pjouissance wrote:
Trust me, Zak, the song was foremost in my mind.
Thanks for reading,
Auto
Last edited by Zakzzz5, Oct/7/2010, 6:27 am
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Oct/6/2010, 8:10 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
hi auto,
This is a cringe-worthy delight. I identify with Ms. Jones so completely, I could bash my own brains out with a heavy rock...but that would be a ludicrous over-reaction...
dam n the alternate theory and how it leaves me
running in mid-air, like that over-the-cliff cartoon character
"plangent little basho sound/frog-/plop"
glad Ms. Jones has learned to love her inner jackass. seems like the best option.
Chris
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Oct/7/2010, 8:51 am
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Re: On Her Blindness
Auto,
Ok, I'm back. This is entertaining. You have a gift for making things readable and bright, for innovation. There's a torrent of language, if that's the right phrase, and it's bright, not sleepy. Yes, there's the Dylan influence in the sense that he was also irrepresible. The language just keeps on coming. The poem seems to build and build on the argument.
I noticed the form of the poem resembled a human body, maybe a female.
I probably got this all wrong. But I enjoyed it, nevertheless. Please continue writing.
Thanks for posting. Zak
Last edited by Zakzzz5, Oct/7/2010, 12:50 pm
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Oct/7/2010, 10:52 am
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Re: On Her Blindness
What a delight. I truly love it when a poet gets psychological, becomes an observer of human behavior. I was having lunch out with colleagues today. The lunch was for a co-worker whose today was her last day. 12 of us in all. People were sitting down. One supervisor type noticed that to her left and right the next seat was empty. She pointed it out in a rather self-pitying tone. Her subordinate made a funny in only the way this country girl with a huge sense of things can get away with. She said: It is not always about you. Then she said as how it is what she has to tell her teenage daughter sometimes: it ain't always about us, each of us. I so loved the moment and mostly because there are actually few of the sups's co-workers who, in fact, want to fraternize with her. She being the most perfect narcissus type I've encountered at least since the day before yesterday. Psychologists say the least self-aware personality type is the narcissus type. An observation spot on in my experience. (there being a point to my rambling.)
I figured this was what your character portrait was leading to. For two-thirds of the poem at least. But then Ms Jones saves herself through the act of self-reflection. Remember H. Arendt's definition of what she called the banality of evil? The person completely lacking in the capacity for self-reflection she said produces this banality. Eichmann, the Nazis, was her model. I am glad you decided to save Ms. Jones from herself. It may be what distinguishes her from her husband or namesake, Dylan's Mr. Jones.
About the poem itself. Zak calls it a torrent of language. I was thinking something similar. A fine tuned facility for language perhaps. Old English scops would talk about the word hoard, the range of language at his command. Something I envy in all more literate poets than I am. And the poem's light touch, what produces moments of humor. This produced a chuckle:
to equally explain the facts
you keep forgetting about it
since you're nuts
as well as blind
I see you continue to play with the possibilities in concrete poetry, or whatever it gets called these days. Auto, I am not sure I've read anyone since D. Thomas who does so as successfully. What does it say about a poet who can succeed to making visual on the page poem's textual meaning? I don't know yet but it is intrigueing.
One last thing: the frog thing. Poem's Basho reference threw me at first. I figure that was intentional. But then I remembered that sometimes a frog is and always will be a frog. No matter the kisses, no Prince Charming. Frog explains Ms Jones's journey. Into herself.
A rich poem. I hope it is okay with you that I try not to meddle too closely in a poem's mechanics and a poet's organic choices.
Tere
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Oct/7/2010, 7:38 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Hi, Tere,
I enjoyed your reading. You point out the two sections and the change in the little interior drama here. It's how we think, isn't it, starting with one reaction, here, a judgmental one, and then moving into self-forgiveness and reconciliation in this case. But anyway, always rapid changes in the prism of thought.
Thanks for commenting on the visual here. The page I get to post on here is very big, very clean, very much like a blank canvas. The left-placement for ease of reading seems quite artificial with this broad space. Centering brings up the pacing and emotional emphasis as well as enjambments. You can see the intended flow, not just feel it, and I like that. The poem really is a thing, and much more real presented as a visual object, I think (at the same time, it doesn't suit some poems, I don't know why). The only allusion to the real world that's intended is the little whirlpool in the middle. The rest is more a presentation of the narrative, if you know what I mean. Other poets have said it's annoying to read centered material, so I'm aware this may be some personal peccadillo.
Apologies: somehow I lost the original while trying to post some minor revisions. Just a few smoothouts.
Thanks very much for stopping in, Tere,
Auto
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Oct/8/2010, 12:44 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Hi, Zak and Christine,
Thank you both for your reactions to this piece. It was fun cramming Milton and Dylan and Basho into the same piece. Hope you can see a little bit of humor around -- I think you both did...
Zak, I didn't think of a female body, just the central whirlpool wanted to be like that, and at the end I got the notion of "world peace" being a ripple in the pond...but looking at it, the whirlpool makes a central "V" that is suggestive of the female as you say...
Appreciate your visits,
Auto
Last edited by pjouissance, Oct/8/2010, 12:51 pm
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Oct/8/2010, 12:46 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Thanks, Auto. I can fall into this as if my inner dialog, mirrored in a tight, bright stream. It is an enjoyable ride, which feels lifting again with each reading.
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Oct/8/2010, 5:15 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Thanks, Libra, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Auto
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Oct/12/2010, 12:21 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Hi Auto,
This is great. I love it. True to life. And funny too! At first this stanza made me cringe:
"to equally explain the facts
you keep forgetting about it
since you're nuts
as well as blind"
I felt it was too sharp, too harsh, so I was happy to see this turnabout:
"though you have never been more human
you actually love yourself for being such a jackass"
The image of the pink/pool noodle is perfect. I also think the centered format works s/well here.
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Oct/12/2010, 4:22 pm
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Re: On Her Blindness
Hi, Katlin,
Not to worry, I'm very easy on myself. Especially in JA moments.
Delighted you stopped in and commented!
Pam
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Oct/12/2010, 5:04 pm
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