With some encouragement from friends and colleagues, and with some trepidation, I am posting for the next few weeks some unfinished poem drafts and some poems from my Red Queen Hypothesis manuscript. That’s the plan, anyway. Plans, especially creative writing plans, seem often to go awry.
Given that my last two posts concern how we tell stories and what interrupts us from our narratives, I present herewith a draft of a poem concerning just that. I experiment here with gaps in form; I think of erasure poems (see Dave Bonta’s erasure poems on Via Negativa or Tracy K. Smith’s “Declaration”) though this is not one–the “erasure” here is internal, a series of neurological gaps and stutters.
I don’t know if the poem works as is, could use more tweaking and re-arrangement, or is so confusing as to be far off-base. Perhaps that depends upon the reader.
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This is great, Ann. Keep it coming!
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Thanks, Lesley. I wondered if I ought re-arrange a few phrases to increase interior off-rhyming or syllabic rhythms. Meanwhile it is all about the gaps.
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Reblogged this on World4Justice : NOW! Lobby Forum..
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My first impression is–exactly,me,too. Perhaps it is better I say, I see myself. I don’t know because my sentence just left me. 😉 It really is all about the gaps, or that has been my experience.
Karen
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You have experienced “cognitive gaps.” I am imagining based upon interactions with people who have cognitive gaps… Sorry to hear this hits home for you. Sometimes yes, (ha) the sentence just leaves. You keep a sense of humor about it. I think that helps.
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Wow, this is really different from your usual work! I like it 😉
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Thank you. Yes. Sometimes, life totally changes up one’s “usual work.”
Like–having a baby! ( 😀 ) That changed MY work a lot. Give Lucy kisses, and I hope you do not have to go through this experience with your parents.
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Thank you. And I hope that you are always able to use your art to help yourself and others through such hard times!
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[…] post I put up awhile back contains my poem “Age as a Foreign Language.” Apropos here, I […]
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[…] In a previous post, I tried to replicate what it was I could hear when someone I cared for experienced cognitive damage. […]
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