I’m suddenly frightened, scared to death, actually. I feel a little dizzy and breathless. I crack open another beer, in order to forget what might be facing me. I’m losing my memory and there’s nothing I can do about it.
It was subtle at first: what singer sang Fast Car, a tune that was popular more than 30 years ago? Try as I might, I couldn’t recall. It’s not like my short-term memory is evaporating, which is an early indication of Alzheimers. And it’s not like I can’t remember what day it is or the name of the president. Those were the questions the neurologist asked my dad when he was diagnosed at age 80, more than 20 years before. So what am I worried about? On the other hand, all my mom and dad’s brothers and sisters suffered profound dementia prior to their deaths.
As I drink my beer, I wonder: how many beers have I already had? I can’t remember. And have I eaten? Did I take my medicine yet? What is the name of that singer? Next I try to retrive a document on my PC, but I get confused; I forget how to do it! Dammit!
Dad was just 10 years older than I am now when his memory began to fail. Today when I was out and about, people stared at me as if they didn’t know what I was talking about, as if I’d said something which didn’t compute, didn’t make sense. Instantly, I forgot what I’d just said. Did I say something to upset that young female cashier? Did me mistake me for some kind of masher? Do they even use that expression anymore? God, I’m old!
Back home again, I stride into the next room with purpose, only to discover that I didn’t know why I’ve come. And I don’t even remember coming back home. I open another beer; this makes…how many?
[Saying anything and getting caught is not a literary virtue, it is an unliterary activity. The best in literature are things which spin the words and images round and round and the reader has to shoot an arrow into the eye of the floating fish, looking at its image in the water. [Draupadi’s Swaymbara] ]
Dr Jernail Singh Anand
Broken lines which carry sophisticated ideas are not poetry, unless they evoke emotions which blend disparate elements of experience into a unified whole. The final feeling should not be of a broken experience, but a unified entity, whispering to the soul. If the poet does not whisper to the soul, it lacks in essentialities.
When we talk of a common subject like love, on an extensive scale, is the broken heart of a poet so important to the world? Is it important to tell the world how it was broken and where its splinters are lying? Does the world expect such lavish wastefulness from the poet? If poets are irrelevant to the world today, it is precisely because they sing of their personal sorrow, and sing too much, which fails to connect with the mass mind.
Metaphor as a smoke-screen
Is it important to postpone finally saying something and trying to find metaphors, so that abstract images could say, what the poet is so scared to say in plain words? A metaphor is not always an adornment. In these politicis-ridden times, most of the times it is used as a smoke screen.
A poem’s message is like a needle to be found in a chaff store. The poet talks loosely about clouds, flowers, rivers, oceans, moon. – good images, and sometimes soothing too, but the message… Oh, I am sorry, does the poet have any message to convey? Or just to fiddle with words, images and enjoy and make the reader enjoy his word patterns, which have expertise in not saying anything. Saying anything and getting caught is not a literary virtue, it is an unliterary activity.The best in literature are things which spin the words and images round and round and the reader has to shoot an arrow into the eye of the floating fish, looking at its image in the water. [Draupadi’s Swaymbara]
So difficult it is to find the meaning of a poem. And finally, if the reader says, “the poet says this” agains there are eyebrows. It is not the poet, it is the poem that says something. So, the text says, the poem says, … this is the fad. The poet has nothing to say. He only put some words together. Forged some images. Which are now lying before you. Try to read into them and say what you find them say.
A post-modern reading of Paradise Lost can be rewarding. Let us forget what Milton has to say about “to justify the ways of God to man”.. The invocation becomes absolutely irrelevant in which he invokes the Muse to let him sing of the disobedience of man which brought death in the world. How can Milton dare to utter these words? It is all irrelevant. Leave invocation. Let us move straight into the text.
Love for the Workshop
If text is our focus, we can go beyond Milton. The message has no significance. What is important is the text, and using the text, bring a staircase, stepping down into its interior, let us move in the dark chambers of Milton’s mind. What he says, has no relevance. What he did not say, is important. Move in.
Everyone who enters this talisman finds something different and challenging. So, that is our study of poetry. Finally to put out a broken spectacle because, a verse, if we take the words to enter into the poets mind, will take us into a factory area where tools are lying scattered. Are we interested in the workshop or the finished product? I think entering a sweet seller’s pantry cannot be a rewarding experience. Better to enjoy the sight of the silver-covered sweets, and still better, to taste a few of them, and praise the sweet maker, rather than de-kneading the flour and sugar that went into it and following them from which mill the flour came and from which factory, the sugar came.
Bio:
Dr Jernail Singh Anand, President of the International Academy of Ethics, is author of 170 books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. He was recently awarded Seneca Award by the Academy of Philosophical Arts and Sciences Bari. [Italy -19/10/2024]. He also won Charter of Morava, the great Award by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. He was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur. Recently, he organized an International Conference on Culture, Values and Ethics at Pune. His most phenomenal books are Lustus:The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahkaal Trilogy]. And Philosophia de Anand, a work of philosophy which has under one roof, ten of his philosophical works. [Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com Mobile: 919876652401[Whatsapp] [ethicsacademy.co.in]
A belief that goes beyond what our instincts gives
A belief that goes beyond confusions that deceives
Yet, is Faith enough?
To accept the time to be born and die
To accept that fate and faith is but one
To accept a predestined destiny is done
To accept that a path is an inflexible sky
Then why is there Life?
Should life be spent by being immobile
Should one sit, silently wait in self exile
Should one watch others the world defile
As hunger, anger, greed and violence pile
Then why is there Free Will?
A choice to leash or let go one’s desire
A choice to create or destroy with fire
A choice to reject or sing along with choir
A choice to lead or be led by thorny wire
What is Faith?
Is Faith a strength to empower an action
Is Faith a comfort for failure’s depression
Is Faith a guide to worthwhile destination
Is Faith a motivation to lead one’s passion
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s belief?
What is the benefit of Faith in acceptance?
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s choice?
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s life?
With Faith, there is Trust,
Yet Trust with Wisdom,
Wisdom with Humility,
Humility with Confidence,
Confidence with Compassion.
Faith must not be blind,
For a Blind Faith is a Dead Faith;
Faith must be Alive with Free will,
Freewill needs to make wise Choices.
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.
Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
This composition started when I saw a documentary on New Orleans. I have never been there so I’ve always been fascinated by its culture and its history. And after watching the documentary, I kind of envisioned myself living there, the cast of characters I would run into, and the underbelly of New Orleans, but also the music and the uniqueness of the place, and that’s how I wrote Saint Street.
I brought in a 12-string and a mandolin just to give the music a colorful different texture, and that reminds me of New Orleans as well.
