in poetry
as in cooking soup
cook in soothing slow-fire
simulate the flame
simulate the flame
to seethe through
the contents
strew the words
with intervals of
s i l e n c e,
the salt of the matter
strewn with pepper
check the rhythm
the viscosity of flow
sense the taste
to be good on the nostrils
before the tongue
taken in like
hot soup
on a cold winter morning
in one gulp,
to let it digest
within
'Poetry is the only art people haven't yet learnt to consume like soup.’ W.H. Auden
PS: Sure, very sure, I need to work on this....as I need to work on poetry. Cooking soup seems easier...and consuming poetry! :)
As to writing, my present state of mind is as what George Bernard Shaw said, when he was tasked by his biographer with writing plays without genius:
'I do not waste my time writing pot-boilers: the pot must be boiled, and even my pot au feu has some chunks of fresh meat in it. ...I have no time to boil myself down; and anyhow I could not do so and preserve all the necessary nutriment and the flavoring on which the digestibility depends.'
A little too much to equate with GB Shaw's words?....Yeah;Yes, but what else to say when that's how one feels! :)
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