Return to Poetry

When I was a little younger, and a little more like a sailboat, I used to love poetry beyond words--all poetry--every poem I read. Now, I feel more like an ocean liner, and I look at poetry a little differently. What's the point of poetry if there's no real purpose in it? Otherwise it should just be called ranting or whining or empty expressionism. Call it something else, but not poetry. Now that I limit myself to poetry that has a true form, value, purpose--it's all the more beautiful in its rhythmic expression. Without being empty about it.

After considering pragmatism and realizing that everything on our planet revolves around this idea, I'm discovering how important it is, now more than ever, to name things and give things purposes and identities. Truth isn't relative to me, and neither are our purposes. I don't collect a personal truth out of practicality. I call something truth because of its nature. I know things in this world change, and that uncertainty exists, but certainty exists, too. My fear is that, someday, everything will be considered legitimate and impressive because everything is relative. Don't get me wrong, people have tastes and opinions, but we also have brains. Make them do work, people. You are so much brighter than you think you are. Name your purposes and don't waver from your absolutes. This applies to everything. For example, poetry.

Rainer Maria Rilke is a legit dude. He's the kind of person who produces longevity for himself and for us, through his poetry. If you read his poetry, you know it must be important in some way. You can see the effort and intelligence behind his words.

This is a picture of him with a violin virtuoso and her composer. Rilke grabbed for beautiful, legitimate things. He recognized them and used his genius to express them how he could.

It must be important to preserve the identity and purposes of things. Call things by name and regard your own identity and purpose. Give truth some credit. I think it matters right now more than it ever has.

THE to-do list.

Now that I'm going to be a "real grown-up," all graduated from college and seasoned and what not, I think it's appropriate to make a serious to-do list. I think it's also appropriate to begin this new little life stage with a celebratory collection of trips and events. Oh, and find a job.

First, I'm going to celebrate the fact that I may never have to write another paper in my life. The perks of being a Literature major. Papers are a lot of what I do. Now, I'd like to read and write out of pure pleasure for a while.

Next, I'm going to go find the aliens in Roswell. It bothers me to no end that no one is "allowed" to go into Area 51, so I'm just going to sneak in. I could get shot, but it could be worth it. For one glimpse of an alien.

Then, I'm going to go visit my lovely friend Jinx at the Cape. I miss her a whole lot.

Then, I'm going to finally go to ACL, because it's unacceptable that I have never ever been. And Jack White is going to be there, apparently. And he rules.

Then I'm going to take a nice, long look at my life and what could be made of it, and find some sort of job.

The after that I suppose I'll keep looking for new adventures.

END.