What shall we do tomorrow?
What shall we do
from now on?
All days are alike
and we won’t know anything at all
We’ll think we are still the same
and we won’t know what to do
while tied to the same swinging tree
We play chess
while no one knocks at the door
*
Thereza, I think that I am beginning to see what you are doing with this sequence of poems. I hope that I am not pulling your poem apart but showing you that you now need to step outside your initial feelings of why you were writing these words. It is you who must put this series together as all poets who strive for the best.
*
Keep in mind several things as I have mentioned, rhythm, the most basic element of verse, your line and stanza forms, the meter or flow of your words, and how the lines look to the eye. Avoid wordiness. You did positively splendid in the first part of your poem: “Lilacs/ impersonal/transfigured/memoryless…” everything flows along neatly, there is no noticeable effort in reading. The metaphors are just right. As you go along things begin to break up because, I think, it is difficult to sustain the muse that our mind puts us in. This is where the craft or skill of the poet comes to play – the hard part. The easy part was the initial outbreak of song telling the world your story. You have written your story; everything is now diction, tone and style.
*
In my own poetry, I find it a rare occurrence to write anything just once perfectly. I am not sure the best poets ever wrote anything long that did not need reworked. That would be a miracle of mind uncommon to humankind. Another thing that I like about your work is that you do not seem to need vulgarisms, the use of words in bad taste to write your thoughts.
*
Many contemporary American poets and others have fallen (this is my personal opinion) to using offensive, four-letter words because they seem to believe that it makes them appear strong or clever users of language. I think that they fail to understand language. First, many of these poets often talk about not offending someone-or-other, while deliberately using words which they know will offend anyway. It may appear that this is following the current trends in language but what would happen if tastes change, as they do sometimes away from the present usage? Many poets and writers may find themselves out of favor. I think that they think that this is not possible anymore. Everything is possible.
*
If you want to be considered a great poet, Thereza, write greatly. If you want only to be a good poet write well. If your desire is to be remembered with the best poets who have ever written never write small-minded poetry. Your poems need not be perfect, few great poems are, but they must come from the outstanding heart, one that rises above everything else and says, “Here I am, read me!”
*
The true reader will not remember small, inconsequential faults. He or she will be glad your work did not pass them by. I think true poetry is a gift from God. Whether or not the poet recognizes it or not. Whether they acknowledge the presence of God in the world or deny that presence poetry is still a gift. We only work at it a little to find ourselves within it. No small mind can ever be a great poet. History is too big and broad and swallows everything up much too quickly.
*
I am going to end here for now and give you a chance to consider the things I wrote thus far.
*
This is a holiday in America, the Fourth of July. I must turn some attention toward my family. My wife Brenda is not as interested in literary pursuits as I am. But she is the best companion otherwise. We live in Southeastern Pennsylvania where she was raised. I was raised in Ohio. I was born in Scotland and lived in Ireland as a little boy.
*
Brenda and I have four children; Mark Anthony is 19 and recently graduated from high school. Penn Anthony is 16. He is a blackbelt in karate. Lee Anthony is 13 and likes bikes and being young. Maria Antoinette turned 9 last month. Her love is horses. We all hope she can have one some day. Her friend has a pony.
*
I want to thank you for your confidence in my ability as small as it is, to review your poetry. It’s an honor and a privilege.
*
I will write more soon,
Dominic Tomassetti
4 July 2000
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