When I encounter a poem with lines having a subtle quality of chant, I’m able to leave the ordinary behind for a little while. Ezra Pound was a master of lifting words on arcs of phrases, and this characteristic levitation of language made his poems extraordinary. That’s about form.
Pound respected poetry enough that he also wrote toward heightened substance. The quotidian — the personal fret, the plodding rumination — was brushed aside. In its place, were image-ideas floating on rarefied vapors of imagination and aesthetic delirium.
Form and substance. Lines bold beyond the dreariness of poorly disguised prose. Lines wild beyond the registration of prosaic thoughts and everyday experience.
Paul Celan was another poetic master of subtle chant and eccentric vision.
As is the poet Gillian Prew.
Here’s a link to her poem “Sequence after Celan” — Poethead Blog.
In her poem, Prew’s lines call to Celan’s, which answer silently in a shared space of being’s flagrant-yet-futile manifesting, of growth’s eventual self-contradiction.
Here’s a link to Prew’s webpage — Gillian Prew // Poetry.
Posted by Tim Buck