Protennoia by Noble Dust

If someone asks me to define poetry, I would use this poem as an example. Kudos to the author. I must admit that I had to read it three times until I got the message. It is mysterious.

I have a personal bias against poems that start with a present participle. And I have a bias against poems that have the sturcture "noun verb, past particple" to effect some change or action. Quoting Caldwell

I waver; radiant, crushed —

If I threw away my biases, then yes, I think this is a very good poem. And it is the archetypal poem as Javi said, inasmuch as my bias was borne out of seeing these structures getting overused in many, many, many poetry. My bias is stemmed from the lack of originality.. But then again, those structures give the impresson to others as signs of true poetry, since they've read it in so many poetry.

I am not being fair, I talk about my bias more than the poem. Here's to doctor that:

The poem talks about an insight, a realization that enriches the poet. That is nice, and well presented. Unfortunately the insight, the realization itself is not communicated over to the reader. At least I could not detect it from three consecutive readings of the poem.

Reply to javi2541997 What's the message?

I like the surrealist atmosphere but too much weaving together of big, heavy words. Words like precipice and crystalline should be used only once in poetry, if at all. If more it makes the liquor too heady.

Quoting Benkei

What's the message?

I think this question should be answered by the author. Yet, what I interpret is the power and magic of the sun with us. From it is born in the overture until it goes away in the sunset. :smile:

Similarly to "this little boy", I like the free association vibes on this, although I'm not sure what or if there's a message or "insight".

I liked what I felt as the gist of the poem, a moment of opening up to a larger world, which for me had to emerge kind of drunkenly out of a somewhat cliched diction. In the end, after several readings, I was reconciled with the cliched language of the poem inasmuch as it mirrors the inauthentic internal dialogue out of which the author has stumbled, blinking, into a greater homeworld.

Reply to Benkei Do you think this image can also fit in this Ode to the Sun? :sparkle:

Protennoia

First I've heard of this.
So, I need to go away, think and listen to this, perhaps, to make some sense of it:



Quoting Trimorphic Protennoia - 3 forms of first thought

The Trimorphic Protennoia is a Sethian Gnostic text from the New Testament apocrypha. The only surviving copy comes from the Nag Hammadi library (Codex XIII). The name of the text means The First Thought which is in Three Forms (or The Three Forms of the First Thought), and appears to have been rewritten at some point to incorporate Sethian beliefs, when originally it was a treatise from another Gnostic sect. Unusually, the text is in the form of an explanation of the nature of cosmology, creation, and a docetic view of Jesus, in the first person. That is, the text is written as if the writer is God, the three-fold first thought. Like most Gnostic writing, the text is extremely mystical, more so for being in the first person

OK, I've been hypnotised by youtube but still don't see the Light. Now to the poem:

Quoting Caldwell

Crashing into conscious light
I stumble through crystalline porcelain cutouts,
mauves and burgundies, flirtations;

An immediate sense of a sudden awakening into a surreal dream of artificial cutouts; purples and reds designed to tempt.

Quoting Caldwell

I stand on an alleyway — not in,
perched at the precipice of crowded Evening Boulevard
and that colorblind byway
where any number of sins might be worshipped.
I waver; radiant, crushed —
and suddenly feel at home for the first time.

The capitalisation of the crowded boulevard reminds me of Pilgrim's Progress. Is this then a religious allegory, symbolising a good man's travel through life? The Slough of Despond, the village of Morality,,,

Standing on and perched ready to fall into colourful sin or not. Wavering. Which path?
What would be the attraction of sin-worshippers? To save or join them? Both?
Another sudden move - a decision taken? No, a feeling - at home. At one with oneself and others.

Quoting Caldwell

Nowhere in Fixation City have I found a place
to situate all of these shades
that smash through broken concrete vestiges
of what I thought was Jerusalem.

Previously in Fixation City. What kind of fixation...dogmatic, black and white? Right and Wrong.
If you're not with me, you're against me? Beliefs set in stark stone. Ready to be smashed by another way of being, thinking, doing...
Thought to be 'Jerusalem' - the holiest of cities, the focus and spiritual center of the Jews.
A good place to be. Is it? Perhaps it is dark rather than light?

Quoting Caldwell

Now,
caught like a shard of rainbow in prism,
I extend every hue outwards for the first time
and I’m blinded as I reach.
Color turns to sound and I see the world in its true overture —

Now in the present home, there is freedom. Reflecting a lightness of being.
'Gloriously glorious', returning to the radiance of First Light. Is it Holy or mystical magic?
Blinded but colour is heard. The world sings the overture; the start of a play.
All the world's a stage.

***

I found this a bit too heavy for my liking. Too much of a slog, although I can appreciate the sense of travel and the delight at coming home...I don't know. Perhaps there's too much of the 'I' in it.
Together with a seeming certainty that this is the 'truth'.
Hmm.

Normally I don't like this style of writing -- the fantastic and phantasm. But this poem throws me off then brings me back to senses because of the combination of metaphors and the use of plain sentences. Good job.

Quoting Amity

The capitalisation of the crowded boulevard reminds me of Pilgrim's Progress.

interesting; I didn't catch that.

Quoting Amity

Previously in Fixation City. What kind of fixation...dogmatic, black and white? Right and Wrong.
If you're not with me, you're against me? Beliefs set in stark stone.

Interesting. I read "Fixation City" as referencing addiction or at least a fixation on some habit. I could be wrong.

Quoting Caldwell

Crashing into conscious light
I stumble through crystalline porcelain cutouts,
mauves and burgundies, flirtations;
I stand on an alleyway — not in,
perched at the precipice of crowded Evening Boulevard

So it feels like the author just walked into the Museum of Modern Art.

Quoting Caldwell

where any number of sins might be worshipped.

I don't see how this fits in. If the author thinks this is sinful, then that's a judgment this is bad, but I don't see that based upon the next line.

Quoting Caldwell

I waver; radiant, crushed —
and suddenly feel at home for the first time.

The author goes through a mental process where he/she has to work this being in a sinful place out, but then feels at home, like coming to terms with whatever it is.

Quoting Caldwell

Nowhere in Fixation City have I found a place
to situate all of these shades
that smash through broken concrete vestiges
of what I thought was Jerusalem

Fixation city I now see is a bad place where the author likes to be that allows the author to put all the complicated pieces together, which the author had thought was a holy place (Jerusalem), but now doesn't.

I'm having trouble with this because it seems the author does think the place to be holy, even if its holiness is elusive to others who think it sinful.


Quoting Caldwell

Now,
caught like a shard of rainbow in prism,
I extend every hue outwards for the first time
and I’m blinded as I reach.
Color turns to sound and I see the world in its true overture —

This seems an allusion to some sort of heavenly state that has been reached where everything becomes clear.

My general thought on this is that it is of someone dancing among the colors with meandering thoughts and my attempt to impose rationality on it misses the point.

It sort of reminds me in the end of a Grateful Dead concert where people are spinning around to colorful lights, pushing out intrusive thoughts about good and bad and truth and lies, and in the end just getting this ear to ear hippy smile on their face when they suddenly realize that it's all about love.

That might not do this poem justice, but that's the sentiment it gave me.

It is an extremely visual piece of writing and comes across as a poem which could have been created in the cut up and paste form of text. I like the play on the idea of Jerusalem, as the archetype of the 'holy' city. It is extremely surreal and captures the idea of numinousity and 'light' of altered states of consciousness.

Quoting javi2541997

If someone asks me to define poetry, I would use this poem as an example.

:smile: Thanks.

Quoting javi2541997

I must admit that I had to read it three times until I got the message.

what message did you get?:chin:

Quoting Tobias

Words like precipice and crystalline

Good advice, thanks, although I wouldn't consider precipice to be a "big" word.

Quoting javi2541997

I think this question should be answered by the author.

I wrote this, like most poetry that I (rarely) write very much off the cuff and in a short period of time. I don't really know what the poem is about. As I've stated elsewhere, I tend to write words musically; i.e. I like how all of these words sound together, even if the format is cliche, or the words are too big and heavy. This poem, like most of mine, is "word music", if you will, more than anything.

Quoting Hanover

It sort of reminds me in the end of a Grateful Dead concert where people are spinning around to colorful lights, pushing out intrusive thoughts about good and bad and truth and lies, and in the end just getting this ear to ear hippy smile on their face when they suddenly realize that it's all about love.

That might not do this poem justice, but that's the sentiment it gave me.

Truly not a bad interpretation, despite being a cliche. :lol:

Reply to Janus

I like your interpretation. I'll call it the "correct" one. :razz:

I should clarify that I'm not a fan of purposefully "meaningless" art anymore than it's opposite; allegory. So this is somewhere in between. I'm not too concerned with communicating a specific message or meaning, but that doesn't mean there isn't something there. I tend to write poetry and song lyrics in this fashion where I have no agenda or meaning in mind, but themes tend to manifest themselves as I write. It's a lot of unconscious stuff coming to the surface through imagery and metaphor, which I know some of you will probably roll your eyes at, but that's how I tend to write. Part of not being too concerned with a message or meaning is that I don't think whatever emotions or experiences I have or have had are important to the audience because the audience will project their own emotions and experiences unto the work. So while there is personal stuff in this poem that manifested unconsciously, I don't find it important to describe what that stuff is. If that makes sense.

Quoting Noble Dust

what message did you get?

The first time I read your poem, I thought that it was beautiful and vivid. It describes with clarity a city and its surroundings, with the precious light of the Sun. Then, I read it again and I realised that maybe this was an "Ode to the Sun" or similar Greek form of poetry.

Now, that you said this is "word music" I understand it better. If I have to describe with one word your poem, I would say "colourful lights" or prism. Call me a weirdo, but I honestly think that your entry is a very gorgeous Ode to the Sun. I mean, it is pretty how you said:

[i]Crashing into conscious light
I stumble through crystalline porcelain cutouts,
Nowhere in Fixation City have I found a place
to situate all of these shades
that smash through broken concrete vestiges
of what I thought was Jerusalem. Now,
caught like a shard of rainbow in prism,
I extend every hue outwards for the first time
and I’m blinded as I reach.
Color turns to sound and I see the world in its true overture —[/i]

I tend to be very sensitive with overture and sunsets. They give me nostalgic vibes...

Quoting javi2541997

I honestly think that your entry is a very gorgeous Ode to the Sun

That wasn't my intention, but, again, I'm open to interpretations. I like it. Color is very important in this poem, which is surprising even to me. I promise I'm not trying to be a precious artist when I say this kind of thing; I honestly am re-reading it and realizing now how much color plays a role in this poem. So I think your interpretation is valid.

Reply to javi2541997

I also wonder about your experience of reading English poetry as a non-native speaker. You seem to have a sophisticated sensitivity to English poetry, and I'm curious how that compares and contrasts to your experience of Spanish poetry.

Reply to Noble Dust The experience was interesting. Literature is something I love in general and occasionally I read books or novels in English as well. In my opinion, being sensitive to poetry is a universal trait that doesn't depend on the language. For example: I have five books of haiku and all of them are written in Japanese with their translation. When I read it in Japanese, I also feel it, despite not understanding most of the vocabulary.

A contrast could be the lack of fluency and how hard it was for me to understand some parts. But this is not a problem at all, I search in the dictionary and problem solved!

Reply to Noble Dust :cool: