Monday, December 10, 2007

Safe Places



What do you sing
When you're not allowed to be?
Knives beneath blankets
Dissect what you believe?

Hand me disappointments
I'll stab myself if you please
Scratch cartoons in memories
Toast to the disease

I'm the sum of reflexes
Unnecessarily tuned
Tornados taste safe places
Surrendered all to you

13 comments:

virtual nexus said...

Jason - just thinking about this poem, and picking up what you said re writing for blogs on the previous post.

A lot of food for thought in what you've said about encouraging raw creativity v polished output in this demand constrained context.

...Jane H made the comment that ALL poems are ultimately drafts; Seamus (S'Words)is battling the concept that blog writing isn't seen as professional...it's all in the mix.

A fringe approach gradually becomes mainstream - & guess more people have problems with an over critical editor than they do with being lax.

I found what you've said clarifies what I'm sifting mentally. Thanks.

btw - Tim Hallinan is suggesting a Dickens Challenge over at Blog Cabin - write a novel online in installments....

Unknown said...

Somewhere out there, drifting, is a reggae melody in minor key. These are its lyrics. I loved the rhythm in it. And the knives.

Anonymous said...

powerful tone contained in such a small frame. very good!

is that your foot?

Aine said...

Electric Orchid Hunter, yeah, I'm feeling the reggae beat :)

canterbury soul, Jason is a slave to his art-- yes, he put his foot in the snow yesterday.
**shaking head and murmuring through my smile as I walk away...**

Shelter is a basic need. We all need safe places. Once we leave the womb, we must create our own safe place. Building a strong shelter is difficult (just ask the three pigs :) ) Failure to do so places stress on our system which lessens survival. Humans have the advantage of working together to build a stronger shelter. But ultimately it is an individual's basic need.

Vesper said...

Aine, so this is yours! Beautiful! "Tornados taste safe places/Surrendered all to you" - superb.

SzélsőFa said...

It was a strange and slightly disturbing read, but I liked the experiment. I'm glad Aine's started publishing her poetic thoughts, too :)

Aine said...

Vesper and Szelsofa, As much as I wish I were a poet, I'm not this good with words! This is Jason's, not mine. I'm happy with my roles as "muse", "greatest fan" and "loving wife"!

Sarah Hina said...

This photo reminds me of the film, "Waking Life," which I really enjoyed. How did you do it, Jason?

The poem has rolled around in my head all day. I've come back to it several times, wanting to "dissect what you believe" with my own little knife, I guess. ;) Not sure if I've gotten beneath the surface, though.

Ultimately, I love the sharpness of the first two stanzas surrendering to the softness of the last two lines, which are exceptionally lovely. The whole poem has a really great flow. Will be interested to read your comments on it.

Anonymous said...

Julie, blog writing can't stand against polished, published writing in a technical sense, but traditional publishing can't begin to compete with this format for wide-ranging, pure creativity. There's a role for both. Where else would you find so many gems that no one would take the risk to put onto paper?

Electric Orchid Hunter, a reggae beat, I like that! Crack out the steel drums!

Canterbury Soul, yes, that's my beloved foot, LOL. Photoshopped a bit.

Aine, that was a great catch to see the link with the last post. It must have be subconscious on my part. Shelter (and the lack thereof) has been on my mind.

Vesper, glad you enjoyed it, regardless of the author. ;)

Szelsofa, I'm curious about the disturbing element. What were the thoughts/emotions provoked that were uncomfortable?

Aine, roles which you excel at. :)

Sarah, I'm embarrassed to admit that for years upon years I've been using utterly Mickey Mouse photo editing software. Because of the project we talked about, I "splurged" and got Photoshop. This was one of the artistic effects. I wanted something close to reality, but still very far from reality. As for the poem, it's about being laid bare, willingly, and struggling with the exposure and sensitivity that results.

SzélsőFa said...

uhm...
was it the selection of verbs?

dissect/stab/scratch/toast
and nouns?

knive/disappointment/cartoon/disease/reflex/tornado
and other expresssions?

not allowed to be/unnecessarily/surrendered

See, if I set the poem apart, there are not really any word that conveys calmness, comfort, peace and so on.
It's not that a poem should always do so, it's perhaps that I am less open to disbalance and danger...

Perhaps it is due to my present feelings about the near future of Hungary, or the uncertainity re: the completion of our house, or the unfavourable situation DH is in due to his beliefs and political stance.

Perhaps I'm seeking quiet and rest to calm myself and you poem, however great it might be, kick me in the ass and this feeling, right now is not comfortable.

It's not that a poem should be comfortable, ther's not such a rule, perhaps it's just me who does need comfort and not a slap in the face.

I hope I was able to make myself clear.
I thank you for asking for my opinion.

SzélsőFa said...

I'm sorry for the typos and bad grammar here and there in my last comment up here; I was typing fast.

Anonymous said...

Szelsofa, I greatly appreciate the additional thoughts. I respect your desire for more uplifting art at this point in your life. Thank you for reading something exploring a darker struggle and commenting despite your feelings. At least you can take some solace in the fact that it was something good for me to get out. I don't want to turn away from those thoughts and emotions when they arise.

SzélsőFa said...

Generally, I'm all into discussingexploring feelings/emotions one feels. Writing a (slightly) disturbing piece may be part of the process, too. I am totally against 'hiding' or 'masking'.
(I've re-read my comment only to find horrible grammar errors. I must have been emotionally unstable while writing.)