proximoception | (no subject)

I'm starting to forget things, bang into things, drop things. Not a lot, but these were things I never did until a couple years ago, and now do almost daily. I mean, I was absent-minded, but the Google Within never fed me blanks. Not sure how much of this is just me getting older and how much is my having gone to seed--(caused in turn by happy lovenest living? or by eye worries). I also feel very stupid, but I think I remember feeling that way in prior Septembers also, something about the transition from lazy summer hedonism to uneasy autumn intellection.

Are my poems any good? They're all composed straight onto the journal; inspiration turns to consternation fast with me, transforming in turn to that bizarre, vast self-disgust around the twentieth minute, where ideas curl up and words get terse and random. Looking back at one I tend to like it, remembering the idea I had and the reason that idea matters; but am ignorant of how much of these are in the words themselves, distinct from the memories of writing them.

You have some idea, some interesting mental phantom you want to share, but to get it to the next person-planet you need to hurl it through outer space, where, having insufficient physical integrity, it invariably slumps and twists and arrives frozen in some monstrous meaningless form you yourself wouldn't recognize.

Threaded | Flat

I think your poems are "any good" and you should work on them. They're in a form that it probably takes some courage to attempt in this day and age, and perhaps the carapace for that courage is the lj-direct composition mode which exempts them from the significance of deep, considered, heart-meditated expression. Spontaneity allows deniability. So the hard part will be working on them. Which I never do. But you should.

I'm not sure how old you are, I'm twenty-three and am already feeling (or imagine I feel) the effects of aging on my mind. I feel like when I was younger I had a certain perspicacity the acuteness of which had been slowly diminishing not to mention my retention level is at an all time low - I certainly have failed to retain as many brain cells as I could have/can with the destructive effects of alcohol, nicotine, and caffeine, but I think at least some of the effects are from aging...

Also, have you chanced upon the new Anne Carson - I took a cursory glance but haven't really read any - a couple of weeks ago I sped through the rest of her works with my lady love, but still haven't read Economy of the Unlost as I have not read any Celan. I was a little disapointed with The Beauty of the Husband until my girlfriend pointed out some interesting pacing elements (we are still confused about why they are called tangos, any insights?) and Autobiography of Red took a bit for me to warm up to - definitely favor Glass, Irony, and God and Plainwater.