2010/09/29

last forever

(a friend found this in an old journal that has a ton of different scribbles in it, she said she liked it and i realized i hadn't posted any poetry anywhere in a while and i am supposed to be blogging for class, so...)

last forever

if one night could last forever
than i choose this one with you
nothing different i would say
nothing differnet i would do
the nervous stutter of my lips
the skip and flutter of my heart
i feel something beginning
but i don't know how to start

your eyes
could move 1000 men to dance
your smile
inspiries me to take a chance
we talk until the night becomes the day
it doesn't really matter what we say

no pumkins turn to carriages
no mice turn into men
i slip back into feeling
when you smile at me again

the light of morning's shinning
and i can't help my stare
as my eyes adore the beauty
of you simply sitting there

and time sneaks up so slowly
the day becons us to go
your my night to last forever
though you may never know.

-----------------------------------------------------

i recently watched HOWL at the Kabuki Sundace. it's a movie about Ginsberg's poem of the same name. the film is centered on a trial where the publisher was accused of publishing obscenity and then some interviews that were recorded with Ginsberg talking about the poem, the trial, and art. Among many of the issues in the film, and just the over all uniqueness in the way it was put together, i had a few thoughts. one that is still rattling in my head, i'd like to mention here as a footnote to this poem:

is "art" only such when the creator creates it with intention. does each word in the poem have to have a specific and finite meaning? what about each brush stroke of a painting? if something is written of the top of the head, without intention, meaning, or editing; is it less "art"? if paint is splattered on a canvas haphazardly or accidentally, can it be "art"?

if i see a work of writing or painting, and find meaning in it, as the viewer or consumer of art, without knowledge of the creator or the creator's intention, can something become "art" through my interpretation or consumption?

feel free to comment on the poem itself of these foot note thoughts. i feel like this is a really interesting topic and idea that i would like to explore more...

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