The Saga of Amethyst Poetry / Part Seven: Painting Poetics / 'Writings' as 'Paintings'

  Painting and Writing, link: The Ragged Writings of Everland can be compared with an artist's paintings. Just as the strokes and colours of a particular painting produce a certain emotional effect in us, in its communicating without words, so a piece of writing communicating in seemingly unintelligible words, in words within words, can have a similar pleasurable effect on us, also. Beauty can be as much in the sound of a run of words, as in the sight of a play of colours in an abstract painting. But like everything else which affects our consciousness, we need to learn to become conscious of such a thing, lest it pass us by. 

The Ragged Writings of Everland

A green leaf . . .

Hard ripped from a bent twig

Yet sent flying

A rose bud . . .

Cruel plucked from a thorn bush

And taken deeper

My soul untouched is safe . . .

But that is not what it was created for

                                                                   

The Saga of Amethyst Poetry / Part Four: A New Art

        If art went abstract, couldn't poetry? If some streams of art turned 'incomprehensible,' but not without a battle for acceptance first, should I wonder at or fear initial rejection? Although these 'poems' are not abstract - for like the inventive artist every line or brush stroke is full of known meaning - I suppose they might appear so, at first glance! But I had experienced that the heart 'rent in twain' could carry the mind's every finding further and deeper, and that it wasn't necessary for the outer parts of it to understand, in order to perceive light via the spirit.

      In joy and wonder I was shown that the primary purpose of these poems, is not that they be literally understood, but that they literally make us littler. For the littler we are the lighter we become; and the lighter we become the happier we are, which isn't by more, but by less. 

The Saga of Amethyst Poetry / Part Two: The Ragged Writings

 ‘The Ragged Writings of Everland:  A collection of poetic writing’

       A definition:  n. a 'ragged writing' is basically a poem rejected: being as it is an affront to the intellect, because the most used part of the mind can’t make much sense of it!

  An explanation: a piece of 'ragged writing' which upon first reading appears incomprehensible, will to the diligent searcher slowly render its secret treasure upon each subsequent reading; enlarging the faculties of the inmost being to taste and eat of a whole new kind of fare. If we will but let go the incessant demand of our intellect to understand something before we can enjoy it, we might develop the spiritual capacities that are within us instead – the ones which make us who we truly are – the exercise of which will bring a more satisfying reward than we could imagine.

      It is hard. But narrow a river and it will flow for you more swiftly. Over feeding the intellect has hindered the heart. Help a butterfly escape from its cocoon, and it dies. Its wings never develop.  It needed its struggle to fly.

    Read without wanting. Read as though being read, yourself. These writings are as looking-glass stones, reflecting back at you whatever you see in them. You could work them out, with some mental effort; or you could soak them in, with no effort at all; in both ways are treasures. Most of all you will discover, to your joy that you are given out of not demanding to understand.   

‘Everland:’

       A definition and explanation: Everland: the internal Land through which we ever journey onward, and always ‘further up and further in;’ her shores are as mystical as Avalon, and her waters as dark as Annwn in the elusive quest for the beyond; her interior as timeless and real, as heaven on earth.

The Saga of Amethyst Poetry / Part One: A Winter of Rejection

(This is the first of a ten part story . . .)

     A few years ago I submitted some of my poetry to a professional body of poets for assessment, critique; and, hopefully, some encouragement!  I was devastated by their response. My poems were deemed incomprehensible. Such complex conceptions could not be understood. Heartbroken, I stopped writing. But after weathering a long hard winter season (of about two years!) I began to write again. Yet it seemed that the format in which I could most satisfyingly communicate, and express what was burning inside me, was in my earlier formidable art of “incomprehensible poetry.”  I knew that I might have to face continuing rejection because of it; but I was willing. Being torn to shreds wasn't a bad thing! Even so, in a moment of desperation I began to call my work ragged writings instead of ‘poems,’ because I was left in tatters! (And, not being ‘poems,’ they might evade censure!) Then in an emerging of a tentative springtime, I wrote a definition and an explanation for my strange writing; and hoped it made some sense!