I will kick off this blog with a poet review tied into a film review tied into a music review. Ideally, after I get better at this whole thing, I will find ways that all of things interact. But right, now it will seem like randomness and awkwardness, get used to it.
Poet to check out:
JACK SPICER
First off, doesn’t he just look like a badass? Secondly, he is.
Spicer was a part of the San Fran renaissance poets, and famously believed that no man created poetry, and that man only transmitted poetry from “aliens. (aka spooks in the case of Yeats; “He {Yeats} asked, “What are you here for?” And the spooks replied, “We’re here to give metaphors for your poetry.) (From The House that Jack Built; Collected Lectures of Jack Spicer)
Spicer also believed that the best poetry should be infinitely small. In short, he wanted anyone and everyone to be able to understand poetry.
Essentially what you’re looking at when you are looking at a Spicer poem is some punch-you-in-the-face lines of awesomeness, and a language everyone can understand rather then jargon heavy “deep” bullshit that you see everywhere.
case and point:
Thing Language
This ocean, humiliating in its disguises
Tougher than anything.
No one listens to poetry. The ocean
Does not mean to be listened to. A drop
Or crash of water. It means
Nothing.
It
Is bread and butter
Pepper and salt. The death
That young men hope for. Aimlessly
It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No
One listens to poetry.
~ Jack Spicer
Coinciding film after jump.. (more…)
constantonslaught
