What other poetry books have you been reading lately?
I’ve been reading Ideograms In China by Henri Michaux, The Book of Disquiet by Fernando Pessoa, Poet by Clark Coolidge, sleep preceded by saying poetry by Jacques Roubaud, Extracting The Stone Of Madness by Alejandra Pizarnik, and Crow With No Mouth by Stephen Berg.
Showing posts with label Bobbi Lurie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bobbi Lurie. Show all posts
Thursday, 6 June 2019
Thursday, 30 May 2019
Bobbi Lurie : part four
How do you know when a poem is finished?
A poem is finished when another word would ruin it or a poem is finished when you can’t look at it any longer or a poem is finished because it feels “right” or it’s finished because it’s late at night and you want it all to end.
Or a poem is never finished. Once it’s published one still edits it in one’s mind. Last week I withdrew a just-published poem. I realized it wasn’t finished/ that maybe I’d never finish it. So I’d say a poem is never finished. The poet is finished. That’s why I’m finally sending this interview in to you after all these weeks/months. I’m done.
A poem is finished when another word would ruin it or a poem is finished when you can’t look at it any longer or a poem is finished because it feels “right” or it’s finished because it’s late at night and you want it all to end.
Or a poem is never finished. Once it’s published one still edits it in one’s mind. Last week I withdrew a just-published poem. I realized it wasn’t finished/ that maybe I’d never finish it. So I’d say a poem is never finished. The poet is finished. That’s why I’m finally sending this interview in to you after all these weeks/months. I’m done.
Thursday, 23 May 2019
Bobbi Lurie : part three
Has your consideration of poetry changed since you began?
Definitely. I now see the danger in words and how most everything written is misunderstood.
Ultimately, there is less to say and even less desire to say it.
Definitely. I now see the danger in words and how most everything written is misunderstood.
Ultimately, there is less to say and even less desire to say it.
Thursday, 16 May 2019
Bobbi Lurie : part two
How did you first engage with poetry?
Poetry happened to me. It was at my father’s funeral. I didn’t even realize it happened at the time. But I wrote my first poem at my father’s funeral. I went off to write in my journal which I carried with me everywhere I went. Only this time it was all fragmentation. I was hiding behind a tree, unable to finish a single sentence. These indeterminate lines and half-expressed thoughts mirrored the sense of confusion I felt. And the fragmentation was truer than anything I had experienced before. My way of writing changed forever.
I realized later that these unfinished collections of lines and blank spaces might be called poems. They weren't like the poems I remembered reading in school. It was a revelation. I felt poetry was an absolute miracle and, strangely, I realized it was actually something I had always been doing, combining words and blank spaces, images and words together on the page.
Poetry happened to me. It was at my father’s funeral. I didn’t even realize it happened at the time. But I wrote my first poem at my father’s funeral. I went off to write in my journal which I carried with me everywhere I went. Only this time it was all fragmentation. I was hiding behind a tree, unable to finish a single sentence. These indeterminate lines and half-expressed thoughts mirrored the sense of confusion I felt. And the fragmentation was truer than anything I had experienced before. My way of writing changed forever.
I realized later that these unfinished collections of lines and blank spaces might be called poems. They weren't like the poems I remembered reading in school. It was a revelation. I felt poetry was an absolute miracle and, strangely, I realized it was actually something I had always been doing, combining words and blank spaces, images and words together on the page.
Thursday, 9 May 2019
Bobbi Lurie : part one
Bobbi Lurie is the author of The Book I Never Read, Letter From The Lawn, Grief Suite and the morphine poems.
What are you working on?
I’m working on a new poetry collection. I’m also working on a collection of stories about / with Marcel Duchamp. I’ve been collecting Marcel Duchamp’s quotes from YouTubes and interviews for years, using them to invent an imaginary world where Marcel Duchamp comes back from the dead, existing as my confidant and friend. It’s also an autobiography of sorts, an autobiography of my relationship with art, the longest relationship of my life.
And, of course, I’m working on this interview. I finished all the questions you sent months ago, I actually finished them the minute I received them. But I decided to put my automatic answers away. I went on to read other interviews you’ve published, thinking back to everything poetry has ever meant to me. I’ve really appreciated taking the time to think about these questions. This, for me, is the most fascinating subject. What poetry does. What poetry is.
What are you working on?
I’m working on a new poetry collection. I’m also working on a collection of stories about / with Marcel Duchamp. I’ve been collecting Marcel Duchamp’s quotes from YouTubes and interviews for years, using them to invent an imaginary world where Marcel Duchamp comes back from the dead, existing as my confidant and friend. It’s also an autobiography of sorts, an autobiography of my relationship with art, the longest relationship of my life.
And, of course, I’m working on this interview. I finished all the questions you sent months ago, I actually finished them the minute I received them. But I decided to put my automatic answers away. I went on to read other interviews you’ve published, thinking back to everything poetry has ever meant to me. I’ve really appreciated taking the time to think about these questions. This, for me, is the most fascinating subject. What poetry does. What poetry is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
