To say her posting about being a writer shook me would be an understatement. Just when I thought it was safe to go outside, another atomic cloud seems to blow in my direction, forcing me once again to duck and cover, and to look back at what could possibly have inspired not just this poem, but several others recently that might also have been aimed in my direction.
Remarkably, she may have somethings to complain about since I got a number of poetry journal items posted during the month of April, some seriously significant in that she might well have interpreted them as talking to her (which for the most part they were), nothing overly dramatic, and yet well beyond the fluff I had posted the previous month.
The most provocative of the poems I posted included “Mutual Distrust,” “Spy,” “Invisible Men,” “Love of Nature,” “Turn, turn,” “Plucking the Celestial Virgins,” and “Being A-mused,” any of which might have set her off if for different reasons.
In Mutual Distrust” I propose the idea that the only people you can trust are those people who you don’t trust because you know where they are coming from in the first place. The implications are obvious.
Since I already believe she took a snipe at me in poem last fall as being “clever and illusive,” my poem “invisible men” might well have also touched a nerve, especially when I referred to love as being the most powerful force in the world, even when unrequited, and that invisible men might give if freely, not expecting anything in return.
And in “Turn Turn,” she might well have taken offense to letting “Roxanne do whatever she needs to survive.
Again, we come to yet another connection to muses in “Being A Mused,” not knowing which part of me is me and which is the muse.”
Then, there was the poem about the spy that started to hang around me at the town I covered, who kept taking my picture and promising me fame – a true story, although I could see how this might fit into the mythology of her poems, including the most recent poem about my inspiring her (in a negative way).
“Plucking the Celestial Virgins” is actually the title to a journal entry from 1980, which, however, seemed to fit today, and may have inspired her poem in which she said, “You will not get me, you won’t, don’t try, don’t think it, don’t breathe it.”
I know she has been reading my posts; I just did not assume she took them to heart in the way her latest post seems imply.
Until she posted the poem about poetry this week, I assumed nearly everything was focused on her failed relationship and its aftermath – as it well might be. But she is a clever enough poet to be playing a number of word games and inserting a number of multiple meanings that I might have overlooked.
It is possible in my evaluation of some of her poems over the last few weeks, I may actually have missed a dire warning about myself as a target.
So, clearly, I’ll have to reevaluate several poems I thought were settled including the most recent scribe poem, again with a view that she may have been reacting to something I might have been posting.
Obviously, ignoring my cyber nanny has consequences.
No comments:
Post a Comment