Poets rarely write good novels
Maybe it is the whimsy within their/our souls. Song.
Slow Jazz music
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+1 (piano keys)
Poets tend to be more poet than novelist
Poets rarely write good novels, if poets are honest
The trouble is they tend to be poets, when writing novels.
Big on metaphors and lots of white spaaaaaaaace,
not always so big on structure, narrative pacing or character development.
+ ++++++Slow Jazz
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+2 (Piano keys)
Books (for the most part) are literal, poets are metaphorical
tending the garden of witty words,
turning charred fields into fields of chaaaaaard,
moving between personal recollections and Thoreau-style journaling of the seasons.
Prose has a constant intimacy: settings are sketched, descriptions pruned,
the poetic narrator’s garden acts as balm for an emotional wound,
and grows into salve for the soul,
+++++++ (Slow Jazz)
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+3 (Piano)
You can’t control a vegetable garden…
raking over the earth, trying to impose order on nature,
trying to superimpose a narrative on a poet's messy particulars.
The novel scripting Narrator
escapes from the metropolitan to the pastoral,
Nomads in a silent room...ruminating on prose,
interspersing thoughts on the nature of plots and structures,
the narrator then delivers a creative-writing class between his shovelfuls of compooooooost.
+++++++ (Jazz)
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+4 (Piano concerto)
He is justifying the rationale behind its looseness and the final cut
letting it speak in volumes upon volumes of well though information.
Time passes easily in your movies, not in your novels.
Important actions are narrated…compressed
The rest – the doubts, the boredom,
the long days where nothing changes the constant, the stagnant
sadness vanishes into ellipses, clean cuts, quick summaries.
+++++++ (Jazz)
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+5 (Piano)
For in the attention to the slow rhythm of our days,
we already make the case for writing
that simply observes the plain work of living,
and in so doing, inadvertently reveals its gentle poetry.
And so the poet steps in, offering a short interval of the figurative.
+++++++ (Slow Jazz)
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+6 (Piano)
Both styles differ in the journey...
One seeks to unearth the beauty within the metaphors and the heart...
The other paints pictures of life's varied idiosyncrasies in constant physical motion
Yet, there cannot be one without the other
The poet paints the world of imagination in colorful wonder
The novelist takes us on journeys into fancy, truths and half-truths
Yet, both keeps us wondering
What if.....?
++++++ (Piano and Jazz concerto)
The chorus...Da da da da da, da da da dum...
"Gosh, we love em, but poets are rotten at writing books
They fill it with whimsy, flowery words and languishing odeeeees
After the first few pages, they finally admit
Golly gee...but I have run out of wonderous prooooooose"
+
Thank yooooooo...Thank yooooooo very muuuuuuuuuch.
Bow!
Jazz, Piano...Crescendo....to fade.
About the Creator
Antoni De'Leon
Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content. (Helen Keller).
Tiffany, Dhar, JBaz, Rommie, Grz, Paul, Mike, Sid, NA, Michelle L, Caitlin, Sarah P. List unfinished.
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