We are in the midst of artistic Loudness Wars. In my first draft of this column, I thought of bringing up Allen Ginsberg and Rupi Kaur and Marcel Duchamps and Andy Warhol and Andres Serrano and all the usual suspects, but frankly, it’s all so tiresome. No sirrah! I shall not bloviate on the usual [...]
“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex . . .” In the midst of my research for part four of this series, I received the first bit of criticism directed toward my articles. An admired acquaintance—a poet whose talent in description is first rate—was taken aback by a statement made in the second essay [...]
Internal Eden! I’ve herb’d thee since eviction without will. When the grand darkness comes, it will envelope with purséd lips, Inflated cheeks, swearing awful things, and as it’s near to lick its seal, This breed of eschatology will end me laughing. This night is specied with which abyss? the one that with shadows teem Or [...]
Editor: Introducing Paul Rhoads, a painter, YouTuber, and now our latest columnist: Among the innovations which must be tolerated in today's world, none is so burlesque, deformed and perverse as that which passes for "art". Once a pillar under the fronton of western society, now it is a rainbow whirligig lurching erratically above, a flying [...]
Part III: Keeping of Accent I. Iambic Pentameter's Beginnings The motivations behind the inception of Iambic Pentameter are widely available to be read online; one need only turn to Wikipedia for an accurate discussion on the matter. Less clear, however, is precisely when in the 14th century our English meter came into usage, and who [...]
There’s naught that succors skin- it consumes its wounds. Alack! the soul! It beats, beats against its trunk and needs balm.
Coming Upon a Hidden Hollow There is a restlessness here Where shadows sway and Disappear As sunlight plays across stones Half hidden by trees Left alone To grow wild and unruly. There are restless ghosts Too. Coolly Intermingling, Lingering. Tenebrosity Let us take this time, this grey evening that Remains after the light has drained [...]
And now the sunlight fades and the chilly Air grows grey and thin, there is nothing but Loss in here.
Part II: Lifeless Meter 1. The Misunderstood Rules of Bygone Eras It was a young college professor, and widely-published poet, who once set my mind on the the problem of poetry's recent failure. Upon sharing some of my, admittedly youthful, poetry with this woman, she at once commented, “I wish I could kill the old [...]
Unhitched from time’s yoke He has forever to build The slow kingdom