Resurgants - 'We who rise again'
Hoc autem quod resurgant
We want to reach the mythic. We agree with Plato when he has Socrates say that the invisible world is the true reality, the visible but shadows on the wall. We are tired of poetry about ‘safe’ subjects, visible subjects, things that the moneyed middle-class can reach out and touch. The current poetry establishment, mostly, are writing nice
, clean poetry that doesn't explore what it means to be human in the wider scope. We are tired of poetry that is afraid of emotions. We are tired of poetry that is afraid to explore the dark of Lilith and the humanity of Eve. We are tired of poetry that takes no risks. We are tired of poetry that is so smooth and polished that it has no face left. We are tired of poetry that is only interested in the lives of the middle class – or the lives of people so exotic that they are mainly imagined and are therefore made safe by their distance. Why is it allowable to write about a painting, which was made by a human, but not about the life of the artist that the writer knows best? We are interested in narrative, We are interested in form. We are interested in taking both of those things as far as they can go without fear of rejection or not fitting into the ideals perpetuated by workshops. We want to write about God, not in a superficial way, but through the knowledge of the intestines. We want to write about intestines. We want to write about the beauty of rot. We don’t care if you believe ‘God’ to be a literal creator-figure or a synonym for ‘truth’ and a symbol for a higher mental state. We want to write about death as a lover. We want to write shocking things not in order to shock, but so that we can expose the world to the ways in which the myths rise up through everyday skins and inhabit all of us – whether we will them or not. We are not ‘confessing’, We are ‘possessing’. Heaven and hell are both on earth. Let’s pull poetry from purgatory. Bethany W. Pope and Grant Tarbard
