(adj) relating to parataxis, a grammatical concept involving the placing of clauses or phrases one after another, without words to indicate coordination or subordination, as in "Tell me, how are you?"
This language is improvisatory, paratactic, his lyric strands drifting through time, place, and persona
This language is improvisatory, paratactic, his lyric strands drifting through time, place, and persona
a rhetorical term originally taught to Greek students as a way of bringing the experience of an object to a listener or reader through highly detailed descriptive writing
I was trying to think of a poetic term for what you do with music, because poetry that’s inspired by paintings is called ekphrastic.
I was trying to think of a poetic term for what you do with music, because poetry that’s inspired by paintings is called ekphrastic.
(adjective) hidden from sight; concealed / (adjective) difficult or impossible for one of ordinary understanding or knowledge to comprehend; deep / (adjective) of, relating to, or dealing with something little known or obscure
It was a hermetic text, brimming with recondite content and promising recondite meanings that I couldn’t quite get to then.
It was a hermetic text, brimming with recondite content and promising recondite meanings that I couldn’t quite get to then.
[...] I was just reading and trying to learn how to write from what I read. I wrote like Baraka for a while, I wrote like Creeley for a while, I wrote some Ginsberg poems. I just learned that way. The workshop was useful in that it showed me that people don’t see the poem the same way you do. You then have to arrive at some decision about whether that matters to you, how much it matters to you, and how it matters to you. I’m a sensitive type. I decided that taking a lot of workshops might put too many people in my head. It was good to have feedback, good to have a place to take one’s work, good to have a place to write for, but I could see how a prolonged curriculum of workshops could make you too reliant on outside input.
[...] I was just reading and trying to learn how to write from what I read. I wrote like Baraka for a while, I wrote like Creeley for a while, I wrote some Ginsberg poems. I just learned that way. The workshop was useful in that it showed me that people don’t see the poem the same way you do. You then have to arrive at some decision about whether that matters to you, how much it matters to you, and how it matters to you. I’m a sensitive type. I decided that taking a lot of workshops might put too many people in my head. It was good to have feedback, good to have a place to take one’s work, good to have a place to write for, but I could see how a prolonged curriculum of workshops could make you too reliant on outside input.