Well.

If I don’t write a poem

for myself

how can it be representative

of my “self”…

…and you are absoposilutely correct!

Any writing starts out as something of interest— for the writer; a feeling, emotion, a tactile sense of some sort, description of a scene or narrative scenario…but when does it cease being that laundry, grocery or to-do list of notes and scribbles having meaning to the writer alone, and becomes engaging to the reader. Heck if I know.

How’s about this? that laundry list, initially stirred only for the writers edification, transcends the space from fridge-magnet to the emotion of the reader, when the author stops to ponder, I’d like to have this express part of me; so, how do I make it interesting for this particular imagined reader (or group of readers?) My guess, it doesn’t happen, quite, that academically, but there must come a time in the process, one gives over the self-possession of the piece and decides to light the fuse for others to read. The trick is knowing how to refine the writing to keep the self-identity and still make it entertaining and enlightening for readers.

   Poetry is communication. Pure and simple.

   I know of one writer who considers his works as: dried autumn leaves on a walkway—inevitably, they will blow away, only to be written again in a different script. Is this the antithesis of: only for myself…? Many of his works go unsigned; most go unrecorded beyond the initial generation for submission, and usually then, without copies. So many times, he is amused to find his works in some magazine or book, occasionally a publication he’s never even addressed. If a fellow writer or student wishes to nick a few lines or a theme of his works—what-the-hey. There is nothing new under the sun (to shotgun another “famous” author’s quote…) so why sweat it. Those who follow his works, will know them—and in all his years, he has only had one, just one, of literally hundreds and hundreds of inked pieces, truly nicked, as in plagiarized.

But I sorta digress…

Wonder, how many famous works we are familiar with, that started out as purely: for myself. (?)

Occasionally, I contemplate (for example) Don McLean’s rock and roll epic dirge: American Pie. Did Don actually formulate that piece (guess one could consider American Pie as a “laundry list” of relative associations and characters, rather interconnected) did he begin the process as a few scribbles, for himself alone? Or did he actually begin listing the situations (obviously driven by Buddy Holly’s tragic untimely death and an apparent observation of the imminent death of America by deteriorating bits and pieces) as an audience piece and, oh by-the-way, planned to create an historic reference? a quintessential rock and roll anthem song?

   There are others, more suited than I to ponder the depth of this Gordian knot.

Tonight however, I shall, not, ponder American Pie for long. Just a short while entwined in the finely crafted and apocryphal lyrics tends to make my brain muscle hurt. Instead, it is a Corona Extra mas fina and a good rum soaked cigar.

Bye bye Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
Them good old boys

were drinking whiskey and rye
singing
This will be the day that I die
This will be the day that I die.

Write as well as Don McLean if you dare…

Max tdc