Seaside council
Seaside council
......................... original poetry by @d-pend .
.........
(art by jopeli, evanjensen,
and ribbittyrabbitty)
Seaside council
To wade through compliments:
turbid sheen
on a plum-skin pickled by winter.
To drown in adulations,
in frenzy of decrepitude
noon's myopia-seared squall
opening its arms to destiny.
(Vigor of a lone, fading flame
in the captain's quarters.)
Out on that wasteland paradise
whose denizens speak waves,
I imagine a council adamant
to train the wayward knaves.
A dialogue of juggernauts,
debate on all and nil
could satisfy my insolence
and rectify my will.
I'd ask the gulls for metaphor,
and plead the storm for pain.
I'd let the porpoise lecture me,
enslave myself to rain.
Sea-rhythms' stilt and their insistence,
their grace and shocking wrath
will flood me with uncertainty
in flawish aftermath.
the negative space
produced by the passage of a thought.
(The smell of old books,
and a candle just blown out.)
Poetry by
@d-pend
9/2/18
.
Art by
.1 — "Musk Oxen on Wood" by ribbittyrabbitty
2 — "Dolphin" by jopeli
3 — "Airship Defense" by evanjensen
I love that I hear your voice when I read this <3 !
That’s awesome! :-D
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Greetings, @d-pend.
The relation between artists and critics has never been easy, even when criticism is favorable. Understandably, artists tend to meet both excessive adulation and rejection apprehensively.
If the artist's skin is not "pickled by winter", then this "turbid sheen" may create a false sense of success that ends up drawing whatever talent may be at stake.
I like the nautical metaphor. So complex, especially because of the power of the elements involved (sea, waves, sun, all the fauna and the characters forged by these elements). The image of
evokes the tension of a potential mutiny. The loneliness of he who knows better confronted with a multitude of wrongs. What vigor to keep that flame alive and illumine those in darkness!
The wading through, this laborious walk, can be a shared challenge.
Where should the ship head to? Who should be in charge?
The "wasteland paradise" inhabitted by overwhelming forces or institutions resists change. New generations, "wayward knaves", usually find it difficult to be heard.
If that is the case, should we hear the voice of the juggernauts or our inner voice, which is the same as saying the voice of nature, of creation?
Grappling with the responses of others to one's art is certainly a point of some delicacy for most artists. Despite the tendency to put on a diffident air, most creators care a great deal about their craft, and by extension, others' thoughts and feelings regarding it.
When our own feelings about our creations differ substantially from those of our audience, it can cause a dysphoric sensation. For instance, one can think that a certain piece is relatively mediocre and receive high praise. Of course on the flip side, we can produce what we think is among our best and receive relatively little response.
Ultimately, the process of creation is communing with that inner voice, for it is the fount of creation. An interesting dynamic is produced when interfacing with that same "inner voice" coming from an "outer body."
No man is an island, and our art is tied into the web of shared societal consciousness, which is increasingly global in nature.
Right. I think that for the most part that is the case. No artist wants to produce art that is not going to be liked, consumed, disseminated, understood. At some point, some adjustments have to be made to please audiences and achieve notoriety.
I know of some artists who say not to care about people's reactions or lack of understanding. They don't feel any sense of "moral responsibility"; they don't care about the idea of "public intellectuals", etc.
I was focusing more on the extreme cases of conservatism in the establishment, in which case, time ends up siding with the artist's vision and critics, if humbled by circumstances, may recant their initial objections or snobbism.
Well-spoken, Daniel... Nietzsche concurs:
I believe that artists often do not know what they can do best: they are too vain. They are intent on something prouder than these small plants seem to be which grow on their soil, new, strange and beautiful, in real perfection. What is ultimately good in their own garden and vineyard they esteem lightly, and their love and insight are not equal.
Thank you for being a member and supporter of the creativebot.
Enjoy your day and stay creative!
Keep Steeming on!! <3
Thank you for all the love and support botty!
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Are you debating your existence with yourself again @d-pend?
If you are still writing you must be existing.
I wonder if a writer can actually isolate himself from the society in which he is writing?
I see a sea globe always interactive with the world outside world but with no real power to move by itself. In fact those inside the sea globe cannot even see the outside world. They have no idea that they are prisoners. Inside the sea globe they are busy doing something which is a lot of nothing. They look like they are ruling but they are all Yahoos and there are no Houyhnhnms inside.
Haha, not so much debating existence as questioning its subjective quality. The balance between isolation and involvement is not always an easy thing to achieve, especially for those sensitive to the energies of others. Yet, it is so rewarding to do the work of exploration, remaining relatively open to feedback while maintaining our principles. I wouldn't have it any other way!
When I read a poem or anything I first look at the big picture to see if this is a sea or a forest. Then I look inside at a few trees or in this case sea creatures and finally I can make an interpretation. Before interpretation the poem sounds good and I like the feeling. Sometimes that is enough but application is the point I am learning.
Thanks again for your wonderful attitude towards your craft and to those who appreciate the work you have been doing.
A well-developed psychological and metaphoric piece, rich and layered. To its questioning nature ... I'd say trust the muses and do them justice with time and editing. Praise is wonderful and a gift from another soul, but the process of poetry writing is that which sustains the poet.
Thank you for the words of wisdom, Pryde :-)
Hope you've been well!
Thanks, Daniel. Very. Enjoying the shift into Autumn:) You?
Enjoying the transition as well! Savoring those last few hot, sunny, afternoons :-)
"...the negative space produced by the passage of a thought."
So difficult to picture.
Yeah, that’s an abstract one :-P thanks for stopping by @marcusantoniu26!
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I love the poem, poetry has a luxury of using the wide range of beautiful words that in our everyday routine we almost forgot. The language become simpler and fading too. English is not my first language but my son started his school in UK, he loves the old literature even recently when they start to read "Oliver Twist" has had an old issue version so it was still in the language of that time, so many of the phrases sound really weird for our ear, but my son he loves it. Your poem just made me think about the chat about the literature and language with my son. You have written beautifully and it is understandable, do you write your poems daily or there are few of them that you wrote some times ago, just curiosity :)
Despite all the life that is promoted in each line of writing, what is said becomes a free creature, even its creator. Written words find their own path, direction and meaning. They are sown in the soul of the reader. But, you can experiment with the readings that there is no better teacher than pain or lack of love to produce the most artistic works, the best metaphorical constructions, the best structures.
However, it is also well known that both souls communicate and are affected, at the same time: creator and reader, participate and are exposed at the same time in a creation. Therefore, it is as important to read as to comment, because the creator's exhibition feels compensated when he perceives empathy, connection or at least, comprehension of the expression of his being through poetry.
A warm greeting, @d-pend. I hug you infinite.
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