Poethics
I wish I had thought of this word.
Here's the link: http://jacketmagazine.com/32/p-osman.shtml
It's a great essay and, of course, I got it from Silliman's blog.
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How do words make war, or make peace?
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A question for our time. For any time.
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Here's the link: http://jacketmagazine.com/32/p-osman.shtml
It's a great essay and, of course, I got it from Silliman's blog.
*
How do words make war, or make peace?
*
A question for our time. For any time.
*
posted by borneman at 7:51 PM
1 Comments:
i was struck by the term yesterday as well
but read the review of the works
newly published
on robert penn warren
instead
thanks for the webs-up
on robert mcneils' weeklong
documentary "america at the crossroads" (pbs a month ago) the only "visual" news i have watched in a long time
he dedicates one hour to
writing about war
(tim obrien holds forth)
in one sense
the bigger picture is
this is the same old shit
bushes stupidity
and the social brainwashing techniques
are not new themes in man's inhumanity to man
deception greed waste indignation
distortion hubris
i may be wrong
but we've seen it before
we are aghast in a new way
which might well bring out
some voices
do we agree that it is possible to seek something that is true
and truth has by its very definiton
universal application?
some years ago i came up with the notion
that everything the "elections!!??"
the "War!!??"
the whole new assertion of
what is presumed to be american
and our experience of all this
was right out of a comic book
someone dreamed it up with
wild graphics and
soundvisuals in bubbles
and everything that goes into a comic these days
all the superheroes are tragically flawed
the best lack conviction
the worst seem to have the day
so is poethics
trying then to say
that poets need direct the
passionate intensity
of language
to the truth
by way of hyperbole
irony
satire?
maybe a whole ballade
eyes blistered with video lies
ears cannot hear the mothers cries
minds shot with novacaine
sensory bombardment the new encyclopedia
the terrorism of the new world
thrust into the faces of the watchers confused between a phone call
and reality tv
the carnival spectacle never stops
this is hell
welcome one and all
that sort of thing
yeah i'm in
i'll rant
pity the poor soldiers
pity their ignorance
pity their mothers
pity is all i taste
in my coffee
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