Relative

Other people’s reaction are a way to calibrate one’s own sensibilities. A sort of sonar blip of where they are at to map, interpolate, where you must be at. Maybe some people know their mind inside their head. It’s easier for me to tell what I’m thinking once its in text or mirror or gesture or bounced back to me by some deflecting off someone else. I don’t think that’s what’s meant when one says one needs community.
But as I meet people who have different permissions, loves and hates, I can stretch. Some stories can only be told with an audience that can hear it. Some only make sense spatially, or in sound or in movement or visually, or thru verbiage of symbols and metaphors. To find its shape is a cooperative act. If an idea is shut down the unconscious still may putter at it, but the development has to go like runners, twisting, searching access to audience of sun. If an idea is welcomed, then one can see if it to good, neutral or bad effect in a context. Ack, abstract.
Robert Peake is mulling over the distances between the known and the unknown, the gap between stated and unstated in poetry and how something becomes inherently poetry as distinct from general utterance.
What ingredient do you need for transcendent leap that is independent of stylistic? It seems poetry is a catalyst but that which reacts is the audience. Does the analogy between science and actual fail the leap of comparison?
I am not fond of “feeling it” as the Ultimate Arbitrator of Everything. I’d rather put more stock in long-vision. Emotionally-based brings up my skepticism of smoke and mirrors. I am not fond of relative-everything, but also am.
But poetry often is about relating, connecting, even yes, feeling, the words or the story or the sounds or the patterns and pattern breaks and the rhythms and being moved to more completeness.
I’d go behind the idea of poetic camps as unnecessarily limiting and sometimes counterproductive. Is the dichotomy of good poetry (and implied bad poetry) useful?
There’s my sense of words and that seems cut and dried, then I watch those around me respond to the same stimulus and give radically different response. Reactions that visceral aren’t faked, or if they can, to what end is opaque to me. People move towards whatever lights them up the way amoeba move away from too hot or too cold.
Something leaves me cold as what seems canned makes another enthusiastic. The rules that rile don’t apply universally. That sense that poetry develops like human evolution, building to make the previous obsolete seems false idea of progress. What is contemporary is everything that has gone before, remembered and reinvented for each individual and things which have yet to reach a groundswell of ubiquitousness. Radical new sandboxes are still sand.
How do you cut across the relatives and see what overlaps? Why some reduction to some definition instead of directive to go to what nourishes? Here’s how to prepare your own dish of what appeals. Eat this. Here are the principles: too much of this function and it will fall flat or go sour, or become something different where these traits are central. There’s no panacea more perfect, more superior. It depends on contextual need.