blocked and deleted from


been blocked and all my stuff deleted from my ego was bruised for a day, and my vanity — “didn’t any of you realize what i was trying to do?” — sore. with each day though i’m feeling an incredible relief not to have to think of 20 people each time i posted anything there. i had to think first of all of the author, and whether what i’m commenting actually is understandable to him. then, i have to think individually of the good writers on the site, and whether what i’m saying is going to be usable to them — either as teaching-method or poetry rhetoric method. then, too, i had to be true to my own values, and push my thinking outside my little opinion and my as yet unformed understanding of what language and emotion mean.

one other relief is that i was writing a kind of didactic verse, where i was showing different poetry rhetoric moves or different experiential realities to what are basically beginners. i’d started deleting four out of five poems by the end — things i’d posted to show that you must go over the edge to find your edge at all. but, embarrassing. and, i’m always saying everything, because ‘everything’ isn’t the secret. the secret is the unsayable creative moment when the urge forms to make emotion any way i can. that can’t be said because it can only be experienced by someone else when they’re in that space too.

i’m already back to thinking on a higher level than i was before the delete. i can think and write now without having to think that i might use it in a post or comment on the way poetry works in the real world of space and time — with living people. hopefully, as has always happened to me, i’ll have new ways of playing in time from what moves i’ve learned in the dialog. as always, it’s me that has to understand what’s going on and where things might go. i’ve kept awake, kept honest and now it’s time to move forward.




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