Syntax of a Serial Prose Poem

Syntax of a Serial Prose Poem

I endorse it

the act of

transmuting

words into gold

the cut and paste aesthetic

qualifies a very lovely engagement

between

writers as allies

poets as paradoxes

when the native tongue

of a serial prose poem

is singing syntax

is singing syntax

I endorse it

the unadulterated awe

the translucent undertow

the formal element

when the native tongue

of a serial prose poem

is mellifluous

a traditional piece

outlined with fidelity

outlined with perception

all entries in this volume

are true accomplishments

from

acrostic to sonnet

privileged poems

potent storytelling

the book takes its title

**

On all levels, yesterday's artist date was magnificent.  Despite the wet snow showers, I maneuvered my way around downtown Halifax.  I started at The Wooden Monkey.  I enjoyed a mimosa and a Mexican brunch while pecking away at the edits on 'Half Windsor Knot'.  I didn't accomplish a lot in terms of actual edits but I thought a lot about him and some of the feedback received by the few who peeked at it.  I confess, early feedback got me a little off track with conflicting likes/dislikes but after a good bit from a fellow writer today I was able to re-focus my energy, correct some of the things that irked me and even added a small paragraph further explaining things (I hope).  While I was at The Wooden Monkey, eating and editing I was inspired for another story.  A little boy was sitting with his family behind me and his conversations with someone called Jennifer sparked something in me.  Next thing I knew I was jotting notes down and again dis-engaged from HWK.  I did get back on track, my pages are full of scrawled notes and red scratches and strikes.  After brunch, I took myself for coffee at Paper Chase and did a little card tag and got lost daydreaming, waiting to go to Neptune Theatre to see Glace Bay Miners' Museum.  And, just as I suspected, the show was absolutely stunning.  Just as wonderful as it was back in '93 when I was working at the theatre.  Every single thing about it was perfect.  The cast was riveting, the set was all-encompassing, the music pitch perfect and the lights expertly lit.  The direction and production was top notch.  I was in tears as I stood for the standing ovation at the end.  The story, originally a short story by Sheldon Currie and adapted for the stage by Wendy Lill, isn't a happy story but it's rooted in truth and honesty and heart.  It's painful at times but rings true for so many people connected to the mining industry.  I laughed and cried and I was completely covered in goose-bumps for the whole two plus hours.  If you live in Halifax and you have some time between now and March 17th, go see it.  It's masterful.

It's Sunday now, my first blog of March.  I went for a long peaceful walk today and came home to my stories and pages of poems.  I finished this one this morning drinking my tea so that's what you got today.  I also worked more on HWK and have been formally introduced to my new characters for the story inspired by the little boy yesterday.  I'm excited to put HWK to bed but I'm also excited to move on with something new.  I still have this one character nagging me but that'll have to be for something else because that character isn't right for what's next.  I'll stew a little and see what happens.

I'm going to let my noodle rest for the night, maybe watch something meaningless and do some relaxing.  

However you spent your day, I hope you spent it well.

In propinquity,

Nic