The Platform (And why I use notes with poetry)

The Platform

And there on the platform, in the faint afternoon
my pulse throbs in the warm sun; I know why I am a poet
of the time of Robert Bly, and Hall;
in this impatient city, Huancayo, I look for quant places
with other tepid things…
I’m no longer a dreamer, nor wish to deceive,
but only to be average and myself—and see, I mean
really, really, really see—see beyond my knees.
The afternoon becomes a faded blue and late—thin.
And the words in my book stop humming in my head.
In less than an hour this mysterious restlessness will descend,
twilight will turn into night, and I will write again, when
I get home, perhaps, or at the platform, tomorrow, perhaps.
I get tired. I get blind. I get lost, but I don’t stop! Never stop!...

No: 1923 7-28-2007


Note: I spend a lot of my time (hours upon hours between five and twelve hours daily) everyday, reading writing, looking, searching, talking, listening, praying. It is a great gift to be able to do this, to live each moment, to try to bury pretense, search for the meanings, to try not to live under self interests day after day. While in Minnesota, I go to the Bookstore to pass my afternoons in reading and writing, I did for ten years; in Lima, I found a favorite restaurant and there I read and write, and in Huancayo, Peru, I found the Platform. I guess in ever coroner and nook of the world, there is a tiny little spot for me, and I suppose the Good Lord knows that is all I need, so I take what he offers, while I can.

(About my Poetry and notes) Some people have asked why I make notes for some of my poetry. Very few people do, if any. My notes are really an extension of my poetry. Poetry is really a condensed story to me, usually with a theme. Two-thousand to twenty-thousand words put into 300-words or less. It can be very personal; therefore you can lose the reader in an entanglement, or a web of some kind, you can say. This is not the effect that I want. Also in most of my poetry and in the poetry I read of others (over and over), there is an element, a piece of substance, called insight which I feel is important in poetry, and perhaps a note will help the reader from becoming lost between the words.
Plus by putting it into a note form, you have the option to read it or not. Sometimes you do not need to look at the notes because your experiences in life have allowed you to discern immediately its contextual meaning (or background). Others may not have this knowledge, experience, but can decipher other parts—that is why such writers like William Faulkner and his kind have chapbooks printed nowadays so folks can understand what they wrote.