Poetry and Culture

Poetry seems to reflect a predominate trend in culture. We know from our readings that forms evolve to accentuate a language. Upon establishing a suitable pattern, who ultimately decides what the content should consist of and why? The most acceptable answer I found is the way a poem is organized. The organization of stanzas and syllables seems to dictate whether a confession, season, or argument will emerge. This seems to be where the issue of translation enters. An infinite amount of words may exist to replace one of a separate language. Under that circumstance, who decides if that content and poem form should be removed from its original "context"? I wonder this because it seems as though the combination of words in their precise order directly reflects a need, issue, and/or common concern within the culture that establishes the new or improved "form". If a form is removed from its culture, is the purpose and meaning, to an extent, lost? Do you think that altering a form or content within a form distracts from the deliberation it was created with? Sometimes I feel that by making these said changes I am in a way disrespecting another culture and creator.

Writers' Block

The more often I engage with the art of literature, the more I find writers' block to be equally inconvenient to a bad case of the sniffles. Most people grow up being told "write what you know," and this is something that pops up at least once a week for me. Actually, I'm having a problem with it right now. Sometimes it helps to sip a cup of hot tea with cream. Others find inspiration during a hot shower. One time I was told by a charming young writer "my best ideas come to me naked." I very much would like to know what you do. Sometime sketching relieves that appropriately named "block" from my brain, as does jogging and stretching. Every now and then a stubborn entity feels the need to block my creative flow and all focus dissipates. It seems like the little flashing icon that the letters sprout from upon the screen (I'm over tired, please don't mind me) is telling me to hur-ry hur-ry. First of all, that is simply rude. Second of all, I find I preform at my best the second an assignment is assigned. I am also curious to know, those of you who preform under pressure, what specifically makes that your preferred method? And does it always work?

My Favorite Collins Stanza

Quatrain out of "Lines Composed Over Three Thousand Miles from Tintern Abbey"

Nothing will be as it was
a few hours ago, back in the glorious past
before our naps, Back in that Golden Age
that drew to a close sometime shortly after lunch.

This stanza painfully reminds me of the moments I have, that we all have, when in a single instant we fudge up. It takes less than a millisecond to alter the course of a relationship, life, and ideal. Of course, that same second possesses the ability to illuminate a truth, moment of compassion, or secure a friendship, but I find discussing the element and meaning of chaos to be more fun.
That moment of change is the one before you realize your breaks have no intention of working during rush hour traffic. It is the moment you acquire a case of word vomit and fall victim to passion, rage, etc. Once those precious collections of characters and syllables fall from one's lips, circumstances change. Worlds dissolve. All other arrangements of characters are rendered useless. You might be left lifeless, a victim, a criminal, and there is no physical possible way to return to the second before the incident occurred. This stanza references the realizations one has to how perfect the imperfections of their lives were, and will never, ever be again.