Sunday, August 19, 2018
I Write Poetry... At Least I Claim I Do
By: Donovan Baldwin
I write poetry.
At least I claim I do.
Sometimes it appears as philosophy, commentary, sometimes humor, sometimes just a feeling which must be let out upon the unsuspecting world... or, at least, out of the captivity of my mind.
Most people "get" the fact that poems, poetry, may be whimsy, may even bending, sometimes, like fantasy, breaking the bonds and bounds of reality.
It's about the words, the flow, the rhythm, the feelings, sometimes deep, sometimes fleeting and hard to identify, the thought behind the thought, the image, the statement of, or misstatement of, the "facts".
In a poem, the "facts" are what the poet sees, or imagines seeing, who, like an impressionist, may "see" an image, not as others see it, but, as it appears to the poet... which can sometimes be damned impossible to put into words.
But, we try. That attempt is poetry, a poem, even incomplete or just a few lines of the initial thought (of which I have several notebooks and pieces of paper) just as some brush strokes on a canvas, or chisel marks on a block of stone are a painting or sculpture... which, though conceived, might not have been born... yet.
Often, when we ARE finished,.. and we never TRULY are, we can look at our creation and see pretty clearly our "message" or madness, whatever it was we were trying to "paint", but, sometimes the reader just does not, CANNOT, "see" what we do... as a viewer in a museum may turn their head partly upside down trying to see what the painter was trying to "draw".
Problem with painters and poets, we don't always "see" things as they "really" are... or, do we?
Read more of my poetry at http://ravensong.mysite.com or find my articles at http://ezinearticles.com/expert/Donovan_Baldwin/19345.
I write poetry.
At least I claim I do.
Sometimes it appears as philosophy, commentary, sometimes humor, sometimes just a feeling which must be let out upon the unsuspecting world... or, at least, out of the captivity of my mind.
Most people "get" the fact that poems, poetry, may be whimsy, may even bending, sometimes, like fantasy, breaking the bonds and bounds of reality.
It's about the words, the flow, the rhythm, the feelings, sometimes deep, sometimes fleeting and hard to identify, the thought behind the thought, the image, the statement of, or misstatement of, the "facts".
In a poem, the "facts" are what the poet sees, or imagines seeing, who, like an impressionist, may "see" an image, not as others see it, but, as it appears to the poet... which can sometimes be damned impossible to put into words.
But, we try. That attempt is poetry, a poem, even incomplete or just a few lines of the initial thought (of which I have several notebooks and pieces of paper) just as some brush strokes on a canvas, or chisel marks on a block of stone are a painting or sculpture... which, though conceived, might not have been born... yet.
Often, when we ARE finished,.. and we never TRULY are, we can look at our creation and see pretty clearly our "message" or madness, whatever it was we were trying to "paint", but, sometimes the reader just does not, CANNOT, "see" what we do... as a viewer in a museum may turn their head partly upside down trying to see what the painter was trying to "draw".
Problem with painters and poets, we don't always "see" things as they "really" are... or, do we?
Read more of my poetry at http://ravensong.mysite.com or find my articles at http://ezinearticles.com/expert/Donovan_Baldwin/19345.
Labels: art, commentary, donovan baldwin, humor, impressionist, philosophy, poem, poet, poetry, writing poetry
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
My Love/Hate Relationship With Great Thinkers
By Donovan Baldwin
It's a little ironic that I tend to categorize the following thoughts as "thinking out loud".
I have a love/hate relationship with "Great Thinkers". I think (can't get away from that word) that they are great (oops). I love to read their thoughts, and contemplate them with pleasure, or to grab an imaginary weapon and attack them.
Still, that's the point.
They think, thought, and passed those thoughts on to others, such as myself, stimulating more thought, perhaps to be passed on as well. Or, to tell the truth, to be played with, mangled, mutilated, and manipulated to fit my thoughts, my personal philosophy of life and self.
Not to say that MY thoughts will be wonderful, better or worse than theirs, yet, "thought" is one thing that makes us human.
"Thought", and great thinkers, do not generally feed us, fix our cars, or even aid in the birth of (or conception of) our babies. Yet, it is the presence of, and the presentation of, "thought" and "thinking", along with the arts that allows us to claim that we are a bit more than the animals, and, (maybe) better than plants... though less than angels (although there are a few who come close).
So, rambling on to an end, I read Great Thinkers, get mad, argue, agree, and live... with new thoughts I might not have discovered in my own head.
After all, I'm only human.
It's a little ironic that I tend to categorize the following thoughts as "thinking out loud".
I have a love/hate relationship with "Great Thinkers". I think (can't get away from that word) that they are great (oops). I love to read their thoughts, and contemplate them with pleasure, or to grab an imaginary weapon and attack them.
Still, that's the point.
They think, thought, and passed those thoughts on to others, such as myself, stimulating more thought, perhaps to be passed on as well. Or, to tell the truth, to be played with, mangled, mutilated, and manipulated to fit my thoughts, my personal philosophy of life and self.
Not to say that MY thoughts will be wonderful, better or worse than theirs, yet, "thought" is one thing that makes us human.
"Thought", and great thinkers, do not generally feed us, fix our cars, or even aid in the birth of (or conception of) our babies. Yet, it is the presence of, and the presentation of, "thought" and "thinking", along with the arts that allows us to claim that we are a bit more than the animals, and, (maybe) better than plants... though less than angels (although there are a few who come close).
So, rambling on to an end, I read Great Thinkers, get mad, argue, agree, and live... with new thoughts I might not have discovered in my own head.
After all, I'm only human.
Labels: donovan baldwin, great thinkers, life, philosophy, self, thinking out loud
