Friday, November 14, 2008

On Writing Poetry (or Lyrics or the Poetic) - another'n from the notebook

The heart is a massive, powerful beast awakening, gathering strength, on occasion striking, charging, goring, thundering, bellowing, thrashing.

The mind rides atop the heart-beast with swiftness, agility, prowess, cunning, whipchord intelligence, adept reflexes, sparkling cerebral laughter, grim-wit and sharp-wit and wise-wit, keenness and determination (and pride and vanity). The mind's purely intellectual thrill and mirth tingle atop the beast-heart, agitating its spiritual animality (only rarely does the beast laugh, and then it is belly and soul and pure delightful pain emotion and terror and the mind-rider's cackles are completely overwhelmed by the psychic noise of it) - the mind dares to leap upon this vast unwieldy brute and seek to direct its awesome power to the mind's own ends (foolish and impetuous but joyous and on rare occasion, successful).

This is my honest attempt at explicating the phenomenon from my own experience. Yeah, it's subjective, but...

1 comment:

  1. This has absolutely nothing to do with this post, unless you figure in the whole love of creepy aspect. I met Blaster a few years ago through a Rockabilly compilation my wife picked up for me at a second hand store. Then I found the rest of your music recently. The Monster Who Ate Jesus is on its way to my apartment in South Korea as we speak.

    So to my point, and maybe its in the CD jacket, but I'm an impatient guy. I read in an interview (which really impressed me overall, and encouraged me regarding my families current situation) that the title was borrowed from a prose-poem. At face value the title kills me (although I've come up with several insightful possibilities as to the context). Can I read the original?

    I'm not a big fan of leaving my email address out in space, so if you still check this and its something you'd be willing to share, leave me a message on my site and I'll give you my address.

    Thanks.

    ReplyDelete

'THERE ARE THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT. WE'RE THE ONES WHO BUMP BACK.' (BPRD)