11/13/20: Mannered #poetry

11/13/20: Mannered #poetry

The Netflix subscription began like contraband

Released from cable election coverage

Armageddon will take a little longer to arrive

Ambition takes up residence in my heart again

The blog seems too small

what a dangerous thought

yes, art for art’s sake and all that

but …

I imagine this blog is a sketch book

a portfolio to present

where exactly?

The writer is someone who lives inside of me

I’m not him

I’m ordinary

but the writer seems to get smarter and smarter

and more and more confident

more challenging

a runner who laps the field several times

a young prodigy

in the body of a sixty-five year old man

The world is words

The world is a book

letters attached mobiles dance around me …

Everything teaches me how to write

in my own peculiar way

A writer is a novice to himself

always a novice

the subtle churn of transformation occurs daily

not really imperceptibly

the mirror never presents the same image twice

nor does the sky …

“The Queen’s Gambit” is good

a made for TV novel

I can only relate to it as to how it can inform my writing

Just as I relate to everything else

I have no objectivity

The writer demands everything

The writer needs a constant supply of metals

for an alchemy of expressed personal meaning …

I am never an audience

always an artist

never a listener

always a speaker

My internal monologue is transcribed

on an infinite roll of paper

My moments of peace

and silence

are parades of words

explosions of words

songs with dense lyrics

I tell my story and make it happen

The seat of the universe rests in my words

not in the constant action of the pedestrian world that surrounds us all

I am brilliant and sure when I write

and it isn’t a Walter Mitty fantasy

It’s true

All that the world obstructed me from sharing

now freed

in my words …

The teleplay sings …

“a genius player” ….

Why is a story of a genius so popular?

Could it be that everyone has a genius who lives within …

why do I identify with this young girl

at more or less the same time as so many others?

The show itself is …

Mannered …

that’s not a criticism …

the show is …

Excellent in some general way I guess

but this isn’t a review

Consume what you wish

I steer you to me

not The Queen’s Gambit …

I don’t need the music that perfectly matches the mood

I just need the characters

and the story

I don’t need the meticulously chosen technically adroit positioning and movement of the camera

I just need the characters

and the story

I don’t need the artful composition of people and objects in every frame

I just need the characters and the story

I don’t need the finally honed performamces

I don’t need the acting

I just need the characters and the story

All the extraordinary craft

seems like dressing up perfectly for a job interview

or a big date

who needs either?

I just need the characters and the story

I just need that ephemeral intangible but quite real thing

who we are

and those ordinary backdrops

the world and the events of our lives

where our ephemeral intangible who we are

the real us

peeks out

darts before our eyes

and disappears

I used to see the real me in my envy

and now I see him on this page

and in my longing

I am in revolt against everything

except the human

I don’t need all of this show’s mannerisms

but I endure them for its story

I used to sit rapt and watch

and absorb all that I could of characters and a story that I found worthy

Now I sit and write as I watch

(I don’t need to concentrate as much anymore — I know what they are doing … how many hours have I spent watching film and TV, good and bad, allowing my mind to create my life, processing and discovering ….)

If I didn’t write as I watch

I’d jump out of my skin

I have an fountain

a seemingly inexhaustible source inside of me

I used to talk too much

or so I was told

I was just writing

in disappearing ink

The Queen’s Gambit takes me to a place where being human is the only important thing

Nothing else matters

TV and the movies

and the news sometimes

is my church

I turn on the TV to see God

I feel as old as time

and as young as this moment

I have ceased only reflecting

and begun dreaming again

Oh the places we’ll go ….

Copyright 2020 Richard Thomas

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