On Hearing That a Name Poet Eschews the “I”
.
Call me confessional but I say that the I
Is writing on behalf of humanity,
A vanguard voice voicing hard-won
Epiphany
The voice of witness and testimony
The voice of the lament
As we– the collective I– are “dumb to tell”
The authentic lamentation.
.
“I” dance across history:
I linger at Normandy.
I drink a glass of water. I sing.
“I celebrate and sing myself”–
Again, Self/I as lens,
Mirror, presence.
I weep. I pray. I fall down
of course
I call attention to the Self:
We are selves with an affinity
For one another–old intimates all– and I
Am the bridge.
.
I go out to grain the mares–no Other;
Clouds billow on a sky
Lit from within by unseen stars
moving me:
Take all I have then– my voice
Strophe, advent, forecast {…}
.
Break out the brackets to denote
Passing time…the stammers
Of someone lost– all of us–
Italicize please
When you leave
O Ye Professing a Poetry
of Language—
.
{….}
.
I/We would hear your weeping
Madama Pulitzer:
not the reductio ad absurdem,
of coldly flailing intellect
{…..}
in emptying, airless rooms.
.
Footnote…
(segments in quotes: 1- Song of Myself/Whitman; 2-“The Force That Through the Green Fuse….”
Dylan Thomas….)
You make a convincing argument, Jenne, and I’m grateful because I like to write about what I experience.
You state the case for the use of “I”–well-stated, too. I especially liked “A vanguard voice voicing a hard won epiphany” and “I linger at Normandy, I drink a glass of water.” Your ability to say a lot with a few words never ceases to amaze me.