The boy with a crack in his heart.

I continue to be heavily influenced by Yeats. The original to this poem is actually much longer than the VideO'em. I post them both here so you may contrast the two. Obviously the self imposed style and length of my videos which the bIRD has labeled "future primitive aesthetic" forces me to work with a finite quantity of words. This then necessitates creating two almost completely different poems. "Variations on a theme" if you will.

How the poet was hit in the head by the rock he threw:

How could he be so ignorant

of the old stone cross he bares

How could he live so innocent

of the world asleep unawares

Loam rises up while

arbutus tumbles down

the ever-changing surface

the loosening of the ground

The boy with a crack in his heart

the man looking back at the start

the wane of love having besot them

their weary souls must part

The naive years

of youth that come to naught

awaken old memories

fierce and lofty calling to the mind

old words

like children who've strayed

If we blame love

we may as well blame the wind

for the infinite shape

of words.

I have stayed away from Yeats for most of my life. To begin with, I have been told many times that we look similar. Over the years I have been told that my poetry resembled Yeats's as well. At this point [age] in my life I am no longer intimidated by the idea of influence. I am convinced that I will absorb and continue to metamorphose as a Poet. I can't be separated from "The Collected Poems" at this point. I carry it everywhere. If at 51 Yeats had 30 years of love and productivity ahead of him then perhaps I will also.

My favorite poem at the moment is # 93 "Words". It speaks to me as if I had written it myself. In fact I have. In many other poems with many other "Words".

obeedúid~

07/may/09