On my tours of Blogscapes I sometimes see references to "concrete" poetry and a novel form known as the "etheree", what will they think of next? I have asked Caddoc about concrete, for he does have some uses. I have consulted Google and Wikipedia: -
"Concrete poetry begins by assuming a total responsibility before language: accepting the premise of the historical idiom as the indispensable nucleus of communication, it refuses to absorb words as mere indifferent vehicles, without life, without personality without history — taboo-tombs in which convention insists on burying the idea."
"Concrete poetry begins by assuming a total responsibility before language: accepting the premise of the historical idiom as the indispensable nucleus of communication, it refuses to absorb words as mere indifferent vehicles, without life, without personality without history — taboo-tombs in which convention insists on burying the idea."
- which presumably means something in the Ivory Towers of the Universities of Abergele, Bradford or Connecticut.
Concreteree
Mix
four parts
gravel with two
parts sand and one
part O.P.C(*). Add
water. Stir with paddle.
Pour into two big buckets.
Put one foot in one and one foot
in the other. Wait till mix hardens.
Now you can't move or fall over. Schimples!
(*) Ordinary Portland Cement according to Caddoc Trellis,
to whom this etheree is dedicated.
to whom this etheree is dedicated.
Your poem is the essence of concrete poetry. Not so sure about your definition, though. Way back at an OU tutorial in Florence, a whole morning was spent dealing out some heterogeneous objects to the blindfolded students. We were required to feel them first, think about what they might be, then to look at them and write a concrete poem. This turned out to be a "shape" poem, which echoed the reality of the object. My object was a roll of cellotape with a loose bit of twisted tape sticking out. My poem was a diatribe about a) losing the cellotape just when you needed it and b) dealing with the inevitable stuck-up bits, and finding the end; the whole in a twisted spiral filling the page. I kept that poem. Why? Because it was fun.
ReplyDeleteAda, my love, you have scared me with this one- are you plotting to keep me rooted to the spot with Bucket Boots? How could I then follow your every move? Ah, Beloved...
ReplyDeleteConcrete poetry is to bury annoying verse, those who won't pay tribute to the ethereal family, those who speak out loud in embarrassing voices or tell tales that should not be told.
ReplyDeleteIt's wonderful that you see the absurd in the scholars. I sometimes think they try to invent absurdity and pass it off as profundity...like the symphony piece I heard years ago that was OK, except that it lacked rhythm, lacked melody, and lacked harmony.
ReplyDeleteOr maybe I should say, "You've written a concrete poem that grounds the abstractions, acronymiously mixing the poetic with the physical while celebrating the outré." I think that almost means something.