Grease coated poetics…

For months ol’ Max the ticky-dot-cat has been scuffin’ and scratchin’ in his litter box, trying to raise a little ire, create a little objective thought (even a dust mote would be nice) generate some interest, any interest, just a—even a—tiny flicker of light from the dark of this post literate society. Sad to report: it seems as if all intelligent literate life out there is dead. The socialist, liberal-whine academic literature and arts components of the machine’s infrastructure have completely knuckled under to the shallow uninformed suck-weasels in government and corporate funding (tax driven or grant.) Example: just a quick skip through the pages of APR will confirm the pathetic “ass-crust” con-job that’s been perpetuated on financial benefactors. Another tiptoe through the tulips (if you have the gumption) into most any elementary, secondary, or high school literature program will substantiate the absence of a qualified, extended, actual results driven suite. “Poetry writers,” as to be expected, if incensed at all, have chosen to cloister with the rest of their pseudo-educated, weak-spine brethren in dark, rat infested alleys and coffee houses; boring Saturday morning tea & marmalade-toast curmurring society meet’s to snivel and snip at the achilles tendon of any sort of advancement on behalf of fast faded twenty-first century poesies. In the dim light and from under the tossed grease coated boxes and stale coffee grounds, self-proclaimed “poets,” have retreated into the blathering free association modes of expression thought long ago dissolved from the 1950’s. The mid-sixties to mid-seventies offered so much hope…

Don’t, ever, call me a “poet,” Max tdc

to Rhyme or Not to Rhyme…

Yes, that is, indeed, the question…

The utilization of rhyme, in patterns; and there are a myriad of “patterns,” established, or waiting to be created; allowing us to mentally access the information presented within that rhyme form more easily; it’s called a “mnemonic”—a mental touchstone, if you will. Used, probably since before man pressed wedge-sharpened sticks into mud patties and called the language representation: cuneiform. Until only fairly recently in history, the common man was either not advanced enough to read, or was suppressed from reading; the primary transmittal of information being auditory recall, often in song or verse by traveling bards or minstrels. Songs or verse utilize rhyme, to be more easily recalled.

Simple, couplets, interrupted (alternating) couplets, triplets, quatrains, ballade, cinquain, enclosed, thorn lines (as in a rubaiyat or Spenserian stanza), etc. …the list of established rhyme patterns is long, even complex. But each of these (and other) patterns add recall ability, memorability to a poem. Like rhyme? want to see strong, yet not pushy rhyme in action? Take a tip-toe through Poe’s the Raven…whooowhe!

Tap your foot for a moment and think: the bards involved these rhyming “lines” with music. Music, being nothing more than an interesting, repeated meter or meter pattern applied to an instrument or variation in voice, thus enhancing the recall ability of the information. To paraphrase Robin Williams in Dead Poets’ Society: What good is a poem is you can’t dance to it!?”

Don’t want or like to write in rhyme…? Ok. Drop the rhyme, or obvious rhyming characteristics (the piece then becomes “blank verse”.) But if one still wants to have their works more easily called to mind, easier to read and recite, consider, at least, maintaining a recognizable meter pattern. Think for a moment, some prose and verses that most easily come to mind: “We shall fight them on the beaches…” Winston Churchill; “I have a dream…” Dr. Martin Luther King; “Ask not, what your country can for you…” John F. Kennedy; and lest we, not, forget “To be or not to be…” from ol’ Bill Shakes’ Hamlet. All of these speeches, monologues, especially the more memorable parts, are written primarily in specific, strong, consistent meter patterns. And they are truly memorable.

          A little inside info: read Hamlet’s “To be…” soliloquy carefully. You will notice, Shakespeare did not abandon all rhymes—he simply wove them so skillfully into the well metered verse, one does not consider the piece a “rhyming” representation. Doesn’t get much more memorable than that…

Rhyming occasionally, Max tdc

Form, Function

and Towing-the-line!

Am I a hard-liner concerning form and function? towing the proverbial “line” when it comes to writing poetry…even “poetry”? I suppose I am.

   Two reasons: A.) I may write or attempt to write “poetry,” but in all honesty, the results are questionable. Reason: B.) The vast majority of “writers,” are writers just like “A.)” above. Producing endless buckets and buckets of questionable, underdeveloped, barnyard refuse.

   Those buckets and buckets of poetry poop are, for the most part, a direct result of instruction by those who should be—themselves, in some remote barnyard somewhere, actually shoveling “stuff” rather than passing themselves off as “teachers,” especially, God help us all, “poetry teachers”(!)

All that hot air expended: I am reminded of a humble, non-assuming, peach of a young writer, “Thom” (friend of a friend) who has been writing informally for years. His material is, enthusiastically, passed to me through this “friend” for my appreciation also. This young poetically inclined gentleman writes mostly “rhyming” material (mostly it is supposed to rhyme, mostly it sort-of-rhymes—doesn’t seem follow a complex format, just basic, relaxed, couplets; meter is, for the most part, haphazard to non-existent. Grammar, punctuation, tense, tension, etc… Thom doesn’t let any of those extraneous condiments muddle up the seasoning of his poetry stew. What Thom does best? Thom writes! Sits down and fires those energetic verses onto the page, one after the other. Doesn’t claim “poetics,” doesn’t procrastinate, doesn’t make thin excuses for either his subject matter or the hearty results. He just puts his shoulder to it and writes his ass off—which is rather difficult to do when one is applying their shoulder. He writes, when he is most busy with the pressuring necessities of life, because he (from professional experience) knows how to ride that energy bullet.

   I actually find Thom’s work refreshing, engaging and almost always interesting. He chooses subjects that real people can relate to, the verse writing Robert Service referred to. This bearded bear writes with enthusiasm. Most of all, he writes with his heart.

   For profit? —ha! Thom, though not a laureate writer bedecked with plated tin accolades, knows there is no bread in poetry. To be published? not intentionally, though he is published and speaks, recites, and is requested to do so often. Thom, the bard of San Francisco (a bold adoption, not his) writes, not for himself, but “because he “enjoys it…and if perhaps someone else likes it too—that’s, an even better day.”

Here’s to Thom, and other “poets” who write, not for self, or stogy academics admiring themselves in their self-applied, warped, fun-house mirrors, but those who write for pure enjoyment…it is contagious! Loosen up, remove the pole from where you can’t sit down, and try it…

K-Y anyone?  Max tdc

t. kilgore splake

winter river flowing

selected poems 1979-2014

Presa Press

Avail through: Angst Productions

P.O. Box 508

Calumet, MI 49913

What an unusual time machine ride.

Was under the misconception

—obviously so—

the ’50’s and its quintessential Beat generation writing style had passed away into oblivion…

But nooooooo. In my USPS care package c/o the Inyo County Mental Health Department comes a sharp looking book, winter river flowing.

   Have peripherally followed splake’s (lower case by author’s example) works, but never immersed myself in an entire book—and in fact an additional care package including a small collection of his books has arrived…

anticipate further reading. Stay tuned.)

   The first hoochie skirt spinner to hook me, a well-crafted cover illustration (think, actually a photo process) of the author. Looks so much like an old climbing partner of mine, Sensei Toma, I couldn’t help but open to the pages. Covers do count.

   If you like Beat style (pseudo and improved upon) traditionally referred to as “stream of consciousness” writing: truncated, amped, spontaneous; and well, self-indulgent—you’ll dig tk’s “poetry.”

This professorial cat, many, many books and a full bio to his credit, lives above an art shop in a small berg on Michigan’s upper peninsula. Still enjoying the outdoor, especially trout fishing, life.

The best selections, found in this 150 page volume, those that have eschewed the empirically stated “I” compositions so commonly found in the Beat style and manifest themselves as (more) observational; narratives allowing the reader to become one with the “poems,” living them through self-discovery rather than through an author’s melancholy enumerations. Some interesting “letter style” works are especially note-worthy: requiem for a baccalaureate, fox river odyssey with nick adams, and ghost of phaedrus.

Many references within cementing the authenticity of kilgore’s back story. Some, who haven’t lived their lives fully, shy on lit’ background, not in-touch with the stories that have built the generations travelling before may have to read with an encyclopedia near. But well worth the ref’ check time.

“fishing     (1980)

an expensive graphite rod neatly wrapped in soft red

velvet lining protecting silver ferrules,

during moments of angling fever I still reach for my

son’s old abandoned five dollar zebco with warped

fiberglass and frayed bindings, so I won’t fish alone”

                                                                                    t. kilgore splake

Max tdc, good reading to you