Nobius Black's
White Rabbit-*BLACK HOLE*
Killing the bunny everyday.Live. In Stereo.
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Thoughts fall out before the head explodes!
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Monday, June 20, 2005Interpretation: Create
From my Blue Rabbit Chronicles zine:
I’ve been asked many times about what my poetry means. I’m of the school that poetry should have individual meanings to us all and that a reader might not see a piece the way the author does, and shouldn't have to. Interpretation can be a good thing. As long as a piece leaves the reader with a sense of real feeling then a connection will be made. The following is a line by line break down of a favorite poem of mine that’s appeared here before. Create was written at 1 o’clock a.m. on an evening when my brain just couldn’t shut off. It is the creator’s curse and blessing. Everyone creative has had this happen. And that is the basis of this poem. Create Glimmer. [Something in the mind.] Glimmer. [Words winking at me.] Shine. [Poetry ready to be written.] If Heaven was in the palm of your hand-- Would you feel it... Or simply crush it? [Man kills that which is good, it’s his nature.] Ashes to... [Ashes to Ashes] The Creation of all poets-- [What makes someone a poet?] The Creation of this poet [I know what made me begin to really write.] Was the death of one man. [My Dad’s suicide.] The soul of our family was ripped away. Nobody cared. [I was pretty much left in the cold with out anyone when he died. I’d been an adult six days. After the funeral, everyone forgot me.] The world can't be reduced to sound bites... If it could I would write about everything. All of my feelings made whole. [My pain comes out as poetry.] Ashes to... I won't fade away. [I won’t go into depression.] Again. [I’ll face this if it takes all of my days.] Thinking, [Face it over and over.] Longing, [Missing Dad.] That memory of flames Got me burnt. [My grief caught me on fire.] Open wide Firefly. [Glowing bugs never know why little boys smash them.] It's not the love you give... [Neither do boys.] It's the bullet you take. [It’s not important that he loved me anymore, it’s what he did to me that I can’t forget.] Mouthful of dust... [In the grave.] Every bit of life leads to death. [We are all dying.] And the creation of another poet's Sad song. [Don’t let even my worse enemy lose a family member to suicide. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.] Ashes to... [Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust] Glimmer [He sparked the idea for my poetry again.] Glimmer Shine. [I wrote it all out.] I can't see you. [He’s in Heaven, I’m not.] You can hear me read Create here. 
-posted by Nobius 9:20 AM #
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