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Thread: Luka's Wonderful Poetry Thread

  1. #16
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    the piece works within a recurring framework of luke’s; the human as machine (a very dmt notion as it happens).

    he refers to physical and emotional states with terminology more associated with engineering, geometry and machinery than with discussions about the human condition. “transmitted” “receptor” “axis”, “locus”, torque”, etc.

    the opening line explains the central notion of the piece; that large swathes of the stimuli of our lives (whether emotional, intellectual or whatever else) are perceived in merely physical terms and as such the poem takes the gestaltist view that we should embrace this paradigm. take an emotion and map it in terms of its physicality. it’s “depth”, it’s anatomical positioning (“chest), it’s velocity (“cyclonic”) and so on. its a rejection of solipsism. the embrace of emotional synesthesia as a psychological tool.

    a few cleaver bits:

    it begins with the word “now”, its phenomenological.

    the poem itself is shaped like a “cave” or “cavern”.

    the world “cyclonic” is the focal point of it’s larger shape and to it rhythmically. its infinity point. like the centre of a cyclone.

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  3. #17
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    Quote Originally Posted by luka View Post
    So weight of it, as force transmitted through it- see it?
    also an important gesture towards the stuff in luke's poetry workshop.

    if you employ the word "mountain", the audience will suddenly be situated either in the context of it or as the thing itself.

    the reader will either feel dwarfed or giant and imposing.

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  5. #18
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    Thanks barty although I think it's fair to say there's zero interest in this thread!

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    What I had in mind with that passage is how the poem communicates, the weight of its words, the pressure of that against the skin as vibration, as disturbed air (paradoxically, even when not spoken aloud)
    registered on an axis I posited as running from maternal to paternal, (degree of tenderness, degree of strength)
    (Which I was somewhat uncomfortable with but it seemed real enough at the time to set down, I had enough trust in it to write it)
    Where the force locus? So where is this generated from? Physically/emotionally/psychologically/spiritually.

    From that point I begin to posit an act of writing which those skin receptor sites, those instruments, register as being of being of unusual force and intensity. Torque and cyclone (same thing in some respect) are repeated themes throughout the poem.

    Frame cavern cave etc is quite odd I suppose but again refers to this notion of being able to register through the language just where the voice is coming from. From what depths torn, from the tension in it, from the force of it, so on and so forth.

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    it's your poetry workshop in poetry form.

    a succinct version of this:

    http://www.dissensus.com/showthread.php?t=14478

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    Quote Originally Posted by sadmanbarty View Post
    it's your poetry workshop in poetry form.

    a succinct version of this:

    http://www.dissensus.com/showthread.php?t=14478
    Yeah, it is.

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    For most of you lot easier to think in the terms of music.

    Another thing to bear in mind is there is the physical body and the other body, the imaginations body, the sugar glider, the astral body.

    And there are the two landscapes, the external and the internal. And etc

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    REFERRING IN SOME WAY to the body –
    your body, mine – the field
    of reference in no way a meadow

    to lie down in, body-
    to-body in the light of fresh
    discoveries. Your field

    is far-afield, neither enfolding
    nor overlapping my unkempt corner,
    my dream of you for now.

    ---

    (One of a sequence of 50 poems, each exactly 50 words long, that I wrote a few years ago)

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  12. #24
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    It's an interesting contrast, because in spite of "referring" to the body there's very little that has any kind of "bodily" resonance to it as a poem - actually it's more about disembodiment, detachment, disconnection (as many of those poems are, for various reasons). There is a coded allusion to Auden's poem "Night covers up the frigid land", which ends with the couplet "for now my dream of you cannot / refer to you at all" (there's a longer gloss on the whole thing here: http://www.codepoetics.com/blog/2015/05/)

    Problems of reference tend to dominate in poetry of the head, to be crude about it, since it's always a question of trying to organise the relationship between one's thoughts and reality; whereas I think Luka's poetry is more concerned with resonance, where thought and reality aren't so strictly separate in the first place: words lead us back or forward into our embodied relationships with things, across multiple phenomenological registers.
    Last edited by poetix; 03-06-2019 at 11:16 AM.

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    "Often I am permitted to return to a meadow"

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    Every so often someone reminds me of the existence of Robert Duncan, and I'm briefly enthralled and then forget about it. I should go and spend some proper time with him, he's good.

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    It's not my thing tbh. Feels slobbish in that sprawling American Doritos crumbs way. I can just about tolerate that in
    Olson but Duncan is too much.

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    My favourite poet no-one much seems to talk about nowadays is Douglas Oliver (about whom I wrote something else, ages and ages ago: http://codepoetics.com/octoblog/blog...ouglas-oliver/)

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    Hilariously, the very next post after that on my blog is a response - very positive - to an old blogpost of Daniel's...

  18. #30
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    Quote Originally Posted by sadmanbarty View Post
    the piece works within a recurring framework of luke’s; the human as machine (a very dmt notion as it happens).
    I once caught a flu which put me in a high fever, and when I was brought some soup and bread to eat became convinced that my task was to separate the food out into its constituent molecules and place them in heaps, sorted by type, at the foot of the bed.

    In a half-awake state another time, when someone else entered the room and tried to wake me up properly I felt that I was a telephone network and that they were trying to route a call through me to some receiver, but the call could not be connected.

    I had a dream on another occasion that I was trying to debug a computer program, and the problem was that a buffer in memory kept filling up and needed to be cleared. Nothing I did seemed to fix the issue. Then I woke up and realised I needed to empty my bladder. Nothing I could have done in the dream would have resolved this problem (at least, not satisfactorily). I often think about this when I see someone desperately trying to solve a problem (usually something physical, like being overtired and stressed) by fretting, anxiously and circularly, about a symbolically displaced analogue of that problem, convinced that if they can only get that right, everything will be sorted.

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