I'm relatively new to Substack, but over the past few months or so, I've read enough of your work to understand what you mean when you say that this piece is a bit of a departure for you, having a quicker pace, a lighter tone and being flightier (you are considering, after all, birds) and more frivolous. Based on what I've seen, your poems are grounded in theology and might almost be called "devotional" poetry. It's fun to see you try something a bit different, and if this is the extent of your deviance, I think we can still safely include you among the ranks of the disciplined, serious poets. In any event, bird-brained me enjoyed it!
When I started with Substack, the first person I followed was Robert Charboneau, a wonderful poet (and person) I'd interacted with for years on Instagram (a very different place than Substack), so the "algorithm" (whatever that is) directed me mostly toward Christian poets that write in what I'll call for lack of a better word "academic" styles. I'm glad it did! My touchstones are levity, lightness, ephemerality (the artists I most admire are Marianne Moore, EE Cummings, Vladimir Nabokov, and above all, Marcel Duchamp). I'm silly. I'm an absurdist. It's great to read things by writers whose values are so different than mine.
I'm not even sure how "Christian" Robert is, but he's at least Christian adjacent. Love the guy. He and I both tend to promote the oft neglected formal elements of traditional poetics, but that does not negate the value of the best "rule breakers" so to speak. I enjoy the absurd—I think nihilism is a fun, if heavy hat to try on from time to time. I'm averse to the saccharine and hackneyed. I think the Renaissance was probably the worst thing ever to happen to visual art, but the reactions have almost been worth it. I'm prone to fatigue and despair and try to write against that current—cynical about culture and tech, but not about nature or human beings. I've really enjoyed digesting your fun and flippant poems, which sometimes steer into deeper waters.
Uh-oh, I’m hearing the “Jaws” music as I read “deeper waters.” My notion of “absurd” is not the nihilistic variety, nor is it the kind associated with French existentialists in suit coats and skinny ties. It has nothing to do with “philosophy” and is in no way analytical or prescriptive. A reckless joyfulness, a joyful recklessness, an almost burlesque gaiety: If there were an avatar, that would be Marcel Duchamp. Previously you mentioned your aversion to Renaissance art, saying, if I remember correctly, that it centered the artist rather than the work and helped spawn the cult of personality, of celebrity, which since then, with technology obliterating notions of time and space, seems to get closer and closer to its apotheosis (Andy Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame for everyone?). There is much that frustrates me about Substack, but I do enjoy this schmoozing with folks like you (thanks!). Mr. C is certainly a Christian (and a very good Christian poet). I, on the other hand, despite trying to overcome my Southern Baptist upbringing, will always, against my will, be somewhat Christian adjacent.
Well, I am an English teacher. So I generally search for deeper layers, even when they're unintended. I like Duchamp, but perhaps you verge on Bill Murray—a joyful performance artist if there ever was one. Regardless, like you, I am grateful for the people this platform has connected, if nothing else.
The piece is lighter than your other ones, Tullius. There's no "commenting on" in it, no didacticism. The lines, being mostly descriptive, seem decorative. But there's enough in the final line to justify it. I think the lack of an exact parallelism in lines 2 and 3 should be fixed. I had no idea about your hatred for Renaissance art! I've heard Peter elsewhere mentions his love for Duchamp. I wish he'd write a post on it, because I'd love to read his insights, as I'm not that familiar with Duchamp beyond his 'toilet.'
I'm relatively new to Substack, but over the past few months or so, I've read enough of your work to understand what you mean when you say that this piece is a bit of a departure for you, having a quicker pace, a lighter tone and being flightier (you are considering, after all, birds) and more frivolous. Based on what I've seen, your poems are grounded in theology and might almost be called "devotional" poetry. It's fun to see you try something a bit different, and if this is the extent of your deviance, I think we can still safely include you among the ranks of the disciplined, serious poets. In any event, bird-brained me enjoyed it!
Thank you Peter. I always appreciate your support—and I know how you enjoy brevity!
When I started with Substack, the first person I followed was Robert Charboneau, a wonderful poet (and person) I'd interacted with for years on Instagram (a very different place than Substack), so the "algorithm" (whatever that is) directed me mostly toward Christian poets that write in what I'll call for lack of a better word "academic" styles. I'm glad it did! My touchstones are levity, lightness, ephemerality (the artists I most admire are Marianne Moore, EE Cummings, Vladimir Nabokov, and above all, Marcel Duchamp). I'm silly. I'm an absurdist. It's great to read things by writers whose values are so different than mine.
I'm not even sure how "Christian" Robert is, but he's at least Christian adjacent. Love the guy. He and I both tend to promote the oft neglected formal elements of traditional poetics, but that does not negate the value of the best "rule breakers" so to speak. I enjoy the absurd—I think nihilism is a fun, if heavy hat to try on from time to time. I'm averse to the saccharine and hackneyed. I think the Renaissance was probably the worst thing ever to happen to visual art, but the reactions have almost been worth it. I'm prone to fatigue and despair and try to write against that current—cynical about culture and tech, but not about nature or human beings. I've really enjoyed digesting your fun and flippant poems, which sometimes steer into deeper waters.
Uh-oh, I’m hearing the “Jaws” music as I read “deeper waters.” My notion of “absurd” is not the nihilistic variety, nor is it the kind associated with French existentialists in suit coats and skinny ties. It has nothing to do with “philosophy” and is in no way analytical or prescriptive. A reckless joyfulness, a joyful recklessness, an almost burlesque gaiety: If there were an avatar, that would be Marcel Duchamp. Previously you mentioned your aversion to Renaissance art, saying, if I remember correctly, that it centered the artist rather than the work and helped spawn the cult of personality, of celebrity, which since then, with technology obliterating notions of time and space, seems to get closer and closer to its apotheosis (Andy Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame for everyone?). There is much that frustrates me about Substack, but I do enjoy this schmoozing with folks like you (thanks!). Mr. C is certainly a Christian (and a very good Christian poet). I, on the other hand, despite trying to overcome my Southern Baptist upbringing, will always, against my will, be somewhat Christian adjacent.
Well, I am an English teacher. So I generally search for deeper layers, even when they're unintended. I like Duchamp, but perhaps you verge on Bill Murray—a joyful performance artist if there ever was one. Regardless, like you, I am grateful for the people this platform has connected, if nothing else.
The piece is lighter than your other ones, Tullius. There's no "commenting on" in it, no didacticism. The lines, being mostly descriptive, seem decorative. But there's enough in the final line to justify it. I think the lack of an exact parallelism in lines 2 and 3 should be fixed. I had no idea about your hatred for Renaissance art! I've heard Peter elsewhere mentions his love for Duchamp. I wish he'd write a post on it, because I'd love to read his insights, as I'm not that familiar with Duchamp beyond his 'toilet.'