Esotropiart

I don't really know the fullness of meaning (or lack thereof) hidden in this one, even though I wrote it. It could be speaking quite literally of the story of an eagle, building his lofty nest. Alternatively, it could be a metaphor for man and his pride. I don't really know. That's why I used to laugh in English class when teachers and students used to say, "This is what this poem means" or "This is what the poet was trying to get across". That always irritated me because, unless a poet writes a commentary on their own poem, no one really knows what they were thinking after all. Depending on what type of poetry I'm writing, often there are lines that just come out, and I don't know if they mean anything at all. Then again, some of my poetry and artwork is purposely senseless (in the spirit of Supreme Wandering Fist).

You could say that it's partly Mrs. McCormick's fault, because she told us to "write down your ideas". As senseless and frustrating this "assignment" seemed to me as a junior high student, I quite enjoy seeing what flows out of my fat head nowadays. All is fair in art and literature, I guess. If there is such thing as abstract literature (like abstract art), I think it is my style. I should actually advertise this style, for in my opinion, it is profound. I don't really know the meaning behind some of what results from these free thinking sessions, but some of it seems to mean something. You read it and want to know what it means, in spite of the possible lack of intrinsic meaning.

Not that I have any consistency or talent when it comes to meter or rhyme, but I often try little tricks and games. This time I tried to make each alternating line have as many common sounds in similar positions as possible. I like to add random alliteration and make use of other strange techniques - not by great experience or artistic intuition, but just because I like trying. Sometimes this causes for cryptic phrases that seem to have nothing to do with each other. That is entirely possible. Experienced poets would probably scoff at my attempts. I'm just having fun, so I don't care. The theme of this poem (as fuzzy as it is) becomes more apparent in the second half of the stanza.