Abstract Shape - Writing

Mda, stateam azi si imi reciteam cateva poezii mai vechi, vroiam sa vad defapt care ar fi diferenta dintre cele editate si needitate, abia acum mi-am dat seama ca nu se asemanau deloc, adica intr-un fel sunt cam aceleasi cuvinte dar nu aduc acelasi mesaj, multe din cuvintele care ar trebui sa ascunda anumite chestii printre randuri defapt aduc cuvantul in sine si duce in final la lipsa misterului :| chiar daca poeziile needitate pentru multi nu aveau sens sau un simplu inteles, tocmai dupa ce am citit ceva scris de Bukowski mi-am dat seama ca defapt aveam dreptate de la bun inceput si defapt a fost o greseala sa modific acele poezii :| pentru ca dupa ce modificam acel text in final erau 2a poezii total diferite si nu putine au fost cazurile cand ramaneam confuz, nestiind pe care sa le aleg drept bune sau rele.

si Bukowski spunea cam asa...


if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

One Response so far.

  1. Liz says:

    wow... pot comenta! Si imi placea Bukowski si nu-mi puteam lasa parerea aici... Imi place si suna fantastic asa... cum e...