Madinat al-Muslimeen Islamic Message Board

A R C H I V E S

dont feel like its mine/so true anymore

Madina Archives


Madinat al-Muslimeen Islamic Message Board

dont feel like its mine/so true anymore
salaampeaceshalom
09/04/04 at 08:24:32
[slm]

I recently wrote a poem, which I then deleted from here.

Although I keep rereading it, I am finding it difficult to connect with  :(.  Which is strange, because it's on my usual topic/themes of remorse, tranquility, repenting and wanting to strive to change before its too late...

Yet for some reason, it doesn't seem to *feel* or ring true.  I wrote it after being inspired by certain words of a certain person I admire.  In a way, I feel like the poem belongs to them and not me.  I almost feel like a fraud, like I can't own it.

But I'm the one who has written the 'poem', so surely it is more of my own expression?  A part of me also feels though, that the feelings of remorse and so on are holding less true for me now, so hence another reason why I feel like wanting to disown the 'poem', as I am relating to it less.  I feel like I am writing about a time when I felt these things more strongly, so the emotions are now somewhat more vague or hollow for me.  I guess this shows how unfortuantely I'm moving away and am now becoming more complacent with how I am, rather than continuing to strive forward to better myself.

I showed the 'poem' to someone, who claimed they could relate to it.  I felt unmoved by their other kind words and felt the 'poem' was quite false, as *I* cannot relate to it much myself.  

So, anyway, I felt like sharing with ppl how I was feeling.  Is there anyone who has felt like I am, can relate or I guess, even understand?

(p.s. I've realised maybe i've put this in the wrong section :P, but I don't know how to move it.  So please fele free to move this wherever.)

wa'salaam  
Re: dont feel like its mine/so true anymore
chiq
09/04/04 at 21:21:54
[slm]

Sigh...yep. I relate.

And, as usual, my mind has begun to phrase a theory...

A couple of years ago, I was at uni studying certain amongst the famous and less than famous playwrights of Rome. Memory tells me that the theme under scrutiny was a rather unsophisticated form of comedy, but nevertheless I was impressed: how delicately they used those old dead languages, as if measuring out something fine, Latin words illumined with Greek that were somehow made of porcelain, glass, earth, soft skin, a girl's quick laughter. They hung in the air like little pipes extracting and refining the elements of life itself: before touching the poor hearts of the less eloquent amongst the masses like sweet melodies. Mashallah, I thought, even then...

...and yet, they could not have touched all people, [i]all[/i] the time. Probably, I mused, they did not even touch the writers themselves sometimes. After all, it's rare that I ever write and find my own words touching my heart - as though my hands pulled out my heart's cry with the harsh precision and impersonal distance of a surgeon's knife, leaving me - it seems - dry and hollow, weak. For writing, quoth T S Eliot, [i]is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things....[/i] (Tradition and the Individual Talent, 1922)

And this is not so surprising really. After all, all writing, speech, art - is symbolic, ephemeral, like a set of signs pointing towards realities that are, finally, intangible. And, like signs, it is useful only at particular times, to particular individuals, in particular places. What does the man who placed the arrow reading, “London, 20 miles” care for it when he is in Glasgow? But not so the man who is on the way to London and needs to know at that moment in his life…

It struck me, when I read those old Roman poets, that our hypersensitive wiring over our own creativity has only become so with the introduction of these modern – and absurd – copyrighting laws of ours. Did you know, for instance, that, back then, a playwright was only considered a plaguarist if he re-wrote a play already [i]re-written[/i], and not if he re-hashed an original play? The rule doesn’t seem any more arbitrary than today’s possessiveness over work – indeed beauty – that should be all mankind’s to share, and it provoked no less societal censure when it was breached...

Where does this curious obsession with (the modern perception of) sincerity end? The signs-man didn’t feel the need to deprive road-users of “his” London arrow just because he didn’t need it himself, so why should we feel as though our writing must reverberate with our heart’s dearest passions all the time, or even some of the time?

Bleh, I’m tired and unsure how much sense this has made. But sis Salaampeaceshalom, I hope it’s obvious that I for one see no insincerity in your posting up that poem, even if you don’t feel its [i]words[/i] ring quite true in your heart any more. Perhaps they will work for someone else. Perhaps they will provoke a comment that [i]will[/i] work for you (after all, life’s all about expressing the same fundamental truths in a thousand different ways). Or perhaps they will ring true once more when you post them…mmm?  :-*

(Chiq falls silent and looks expectant  :-))
Re: dont feel like its mine/so true anymore
salaampeaceshalom
09/06/04 at 06:06:51
[wlm]

Aw sis,  :) barakAllaahu fiki for ur words, made me feel better ma'sha'Allaah.

Although I do not fully relate to what I wrote even now, I am at least trying to look at it from an outsider, which is proving more helpful  ;), and  can see it for what it is; an expression of words, and possible glimpses of subtle depths beneath the emotions, that though once vehemently rang forcefully true, I can presently acknowledge, without them having to deeply resonate within me.

Lol, aw, I appreciate ur attempt but I couldn't post it right now, due to how I'm feeling about it :P

But thanks for trying  ;)

Much love

 :-*
Re: dont feel like its mine/so true anymore
Maliha
10/14/04 at 07:33:29
[slm]
I am kinda sloowww....no really sloww...I read this thread a while back and it stuck somewhere in my subconscious. Of course sis Chiq has given a much deeper/eloquent reply then the lil i have to offer but here it goes.

A lot of creative expressions, and its certainly true of poetry, stems from emotions/a strike of inspiration/ or perhaps feelings....But all those things are very transient. When the moment is "not right", I couldn't write anything even if someone paid me to. Yet the moment arrives and leaves before you have a chance to really *connect*.

Some things we write about are universal...hence you can alwayz come back and recognize a piece of yourself in them. Others are very particular, to that time/space, to that fleeting emotion, to that transient feeling. And it passes just like that.

Sometimes I read some of my older pieces and wonder "who wrote that?" I can't really *feel* the poem, the hollowness rings for me, yet other people connect with it in their own unique time/space moment.

I've written very "intellectual" poetry, where I barely felt any emotion..and I guess i can relate to chiq's quote that talks of "escaping from emotions". That's when I am disgusted, writing from a place far away, hoping to capture the distaste in my mouth and fling it far away from me...

I don't know if this rambling makes sense...but i guess i just wanted to say that i do relate, and i don't think its a weird thing not to connect to something after you write it...perhaps the moment left too soon, maybe it wasn't even meant for you, maybe it was an echoe from deep within to remind you of deeper depths...

Allahu A'lam. But whatever the case, keep writing sis, this Ummah needs an infusion of creativity...badly :)
[wlm]
10/14/04 at 07:34:07
Maliha


Madinat al-Muslimeen Islamic Message Board
A R C H I V E S

Individual posts do not necessarily reflect the views of Jannah.org, Islam, or all Muslims. All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective owners. Comments are owned by the poster and may not be used without consent of the author.
The rest © Jannah.Org