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A few measly times
then shoved in a dark drawer
never again to see the light of day
most poems
will hardly be read
but we write them anyway:
It's a heartening thought
that we do what we do
not for acknowledgement
or even by choice
but because we are driven
by some inner impulse
that sings through our bodies
with the same heart-pumping force
as has always existed
from the very beginning of time
the force
that set it all in motion
and dispersed throughout the universe
in the energy of stars
the force we express
in uttered syllables
"Let there be light"
which was the first poem
and is the meaning
of every poem
ever written
since.
2 comments:
This is a beautiful meditation on the relationship between poetry and light. Poetry as light. Which sometimes gets extinguished in a dark drawer! But, the light under discussion is not just any old light. It's not the light from your fluorescent or LED lightbulb. It's a spark: "some inner impulse that sings through our bodies". A spark: a new light, a new creation! And yet, "has always existed from the very beginning of time". Aha. Energy can't be created or destroyed. We know that from Einstein. So it all goes back to that primordial light, the first light of creation, the first thing that was ever created, the big bang! When we write a poem, we get to participate retroactively in that first act of creation. That's where it all come from. That's the source. The Divine source.
Maybe, then, even the poems that get extinguished in the dark drawer are never really extinguished, since energy can't be created or destroyed?
In one of his letters, Thomas Hardy writes that there are two types of poems. The first type, which he dubs "the old man's road," is about something ... there is subject matter, there is an argument, there is content. The poem is a vehicle for a message. Most of the poems that Hardy wrote were of this first type. I think most of the poems that you write are also of this first type. I guess most poems in general are of this type. The second type Hardy calls "music". He doesn't explain what he means by this, but I think we can understand. I am thinking of the final sequence in 2001: A Space Odyssey, which is a symphony of light and color. In the movie, I guess it's also symbolizing a new creation, a re-birth, a new stage in man's evolution. But it's presented like ... music.
What a great explication. Thank you. If I ever write a book of poems I want you to write the introduction. I hadn’t thought of this poem as kabbalistic but now that you mention it it’s obvious. I was very weary about such a cliched metaphor when I started thinking about it, but couldn’t help myself. I read it before kiddush last Shabbat after my wife lit the candles and it was very apropos. On the Hardy, that sounds about right to me, and my natural tendency and preference is definitely the first type. That elusive second type seems to verge on prayer, if I can extrapolate. Sounds more like the kind of poetry ee cummings wrote, which I regard as sort of the purest poetry, words that are more sound than sense, but also appeals to the intellect even as it dispenses with the conventions, and in that sense is the most refined art, if I can put it that way. As you put it, like a new transcendent language. I don’t think of 2001 as much as the musical theme of Close Encounters of the Third Kind.
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