I feel kind of out of my groove. I saw this “how record players work” special on TV and it’s pretty simple. You have something that can vibrate, you vibrate it with the sound of your voice, an arm attached to the vibrating surface etches those vibrations into the wax, and when played back, an arm attached to a vibrating surface is run through those grooves.
It’s pretty cool. It makes sense. And yet it seems like it shouldn’t work.
Anyway, I’m not talking about that magic that is technology, except to say that no arm attached to any vibrating surface is properly running through my grooves.
Oh, ha, yes, even when I’m trying to be all profound, I sound like I’m writing cheesy soft-core porn for lonely music geeks.
But really, this whole post was supposed to be about Ryan’s post in which he talks a little about the aesthetics of his poetry and then posts a poem of his. Is it just me or does Ryan seem like the kind of guy who could pull off a fedora?
Anyway, I think that’s brave. I guess that’s why I have a soft spot for poets. I think there’s something really brave about writing poetry. You open up your soul, scrape some stuff off, and then try to get at it precisely through words.
If you asked me to describe my boob freckle, I could tell you all about it, how it looks like a tiny drop of chocolate on a milk-white surface. And that’s nice. Or I could tell you how it always tickles me when I’m with someone and I say, “look, there’s my boob freckle” and they lean down and put their lips right on it. Or I could say that most of the boob freckle’s charm is reputation and not inherent beauty. I could go on, is what I’m saying. I could say everything I had to say about it and some of it would be good and some not.
But, if you said, describe your boob freckle, but don’t mention the boob freckle and do it in a haiku, already I have to make some deliberate decisions in a way I’m not used to and what I cut away is as crucial as what I leave behind.
I think, though, that I’d go like this:
A milk white surface
A tiny dot of chocolate
Are you thirsty yet?
I like that.
But I’m just kidding around. The stakes aren’t so high for me. But Ryan is working on writing in a way that really does something for him. His willingness to share it takes real guts.
Well, now they make electric record players. They work roughly the same way, just with an extra step in the middle. It’s all vibrations, whether vibrations of sound waves or electrons. (There I go again, telling you you’re wrong about everything.)
Who knew you had so much in common with the conservatives around here?But that’s okay. Be a hater. I’ll still drink to your health with your wife this weekend.
B,You are a kind one. Typically the absolute last thing I want to see on someone’s site is a tired stab at poetry. So, it only made sense to offer…. well, a tired stab at poetry.Your haiku, by the way, rocks.Best,Ryan
I think it’s brave, though, to put yourself out there like that. Everyone’s got an opinion on poetry, but few people have the guts to do it and to put it out there.And I’m glad you like the haiku. Maybe I was put here to write haikus about things no one else bothers with.
sonuds boring and hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hi guys you know there are many people we dont reconize for being brave and sometimes you dont even relize that everything you do take courage as im writing this this is bravry so i looked up bravry in google and it came up with this so this is lil hex signing off