MADNESS IN SEARCH OF

This poem was written after the end of a brief but intense affair Sexton had with the poet James Wright. The narrator is anguished, depressed, angry, all as Sexton probably was, but as expressed in the poem, the focus is broadened from the particular (Sexton's breakup with Wright) to something more universal (the emotions of a woman who feels jilted and her expression of sexual frustration via masturbation).

On higher language registers in poems. I have recently realized, the first couple of words, or the first line of a poem is critical to gleaning probable meaning. With the above quote in mind, it seems the following definitions of affair are most probable.

affair, noun, b: MATTER, CONCERN, how I choose to live is my affair, not yours.

3 or less commonly affaire

a: a romantic or passionate attachment typically of limited duration : LIAISON, sense 2b an illicit sexual relationship.
had an affair with a coworker

b: a matter occasioning public anxiety, controversy, or scandal : CASE, the Watergate affair of the early 1970s

“Affair.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/affair. Accessed 25 Jul. 2025.

As discussed in past posts, inexperienced and misguided poets most often resort to word jinkery and thinkery. Including an overuse of unusual metaphor.

Sexton on the other hand draws deep on the scope of words like affair to establish intended interpretation of her poem. Just saying ya’ll. There are three nouns in the first sentence of Sexton’s poem, end, affair, death. When combined we can interpret Sexton’s poem is about a doomed to fail, ill fated, disastrous affair.

I am making two points here. Sexton’s poem is as the Tzara’s quote above. No surprises there. And, that we should be aware of the significance of first lines in established poets’ poems. Oh fuck death is an adjective! In Sexton’s poem, my pants and argument all fall down.

Regardless example, deciphering Eric Baus’s infamous (in my shamelessly un-humbled opinion) infamous student killer poem:

A DISMANTLED MOUTH

Because the helix owl’s enlarger is not clock-like but revolves concen
-trically within, were I to uncoil its palette to extract an after-image its
tones would smudge, owl-shaped, indefinitely.

This thread should be retitled, a wannabe poets madness on a porn site, where I explore, learn and write my best poems.
 
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Point three, analyzing poems, the significance of the first verse in interpretation. I italicize and use bold font to analyze.

The Ballad of the Lonely Masturbator

The end of the affair is always death.
She’s my workshop. Slippery eye,
out of the tribe of myself my breath
finds you gone
. I horrify
those who stand by. I am fed.

At night, alone, I marry the bed.

The italics suggest one thing
: The bold another. Which is it?

Note: Tribe is an unusual word choice, but meaningfully so.

tribe noun​

trīb

plural tribes
Synonyms of tribe
1
a: a social group composed chiefly of numerous families, clans, or generations having a shared ancestry and language

(Bold font my added emphasis
for ease of interpretive purposes).

It’s kind of like Sexton is saying to her poet tribe, hey, I’m not the only masturbator here, and we all make mistakes. Her choice of workshop for me is two fold, a vital poetical tool; And Sexton is signaling she is poetically working through her very public affair. All of which Tzara has already said but hey, thinking is oxygen.

I feel, I am fed is a very significant statement in the scheme of overall meaning. I feel Sexton is reinforcing the overall tone which gives meaning.

Slippery eye sexual innuendo? But, also more likely philosophical. Is she metaphorically threading the proverbial eye of the needle? Stitching it all together? Lots to imagine and consider. A wonderfully superior poem.

(Grrrr, starWars Conan brought back down to earth now grrrr he write shit poems 😅).
 
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we should be aware of the significance of first lines in established poets’ poems.

Orange Water is my favorite Eric Baus poem. For me, one word releases the meaning of an entire poem. Water. His use of intransitive verbs is intentional.

Orange Water​

by Eric Baus
The bloom. The boiling water. Bees. Real flowers release bees. Real flowers bloom orange. Real bees bloom in boiling water. Real water releases bees. Boiling real bees releases flowers. The flowers bloom. The bees bloom. The water blooms. The boiling blooms. Real flowers. Real bees. Real water. Flowers are not real. Bees are not real. Water is not real. Release the bees. Boil the bees. Water the bees. Real water. Orange flowers. Orange water.
 
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Thanks for doing the heavy lifting, demystifying Orange Water.

Water unlocks the intentionally cyclic nature in the poems construction. I can now see, Real flowers release bees. Is a line worth reconsidering. Epescially Baus’s repetitious use of Real. @42BelowsBack began this thread in search of his own distinct real voice.

Although stylistically different, Orange Water clearly supports Tzara’s point:

For "professional" poets (e.g. those published in major journals or who have books from established publishing houses, often those who teach poetry at the university level) my feeling is that, regardless of whether a poem is written in first person or not, the "voice" is more distanced from the poet's personal identity. This is regardless of whether the inspiration of the poem is personal experience or not. Even with the so-called "confessional poets" (Lowell, Plath, Sexton, et al.), their poems are striving for something more universal than simply describing personal experience.
 
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I appreciate everyone’s input. Begrudgingly, I possibly, might, maybe, ….okay so I can see where I have been going right….I feel my understanding of poetry is improved as a result of everything everyone has shared.

On Orange Water and poems in general. It strikes me, experienced poets of the ilk Tzara speaks of weave poems around a central idea.

For example, Orange Water is a poetic representation of:

The Theory of Forms or Theory of Ideas, also known as Platonic idealism or Platonic realism, is a philosophical theory credited to the Classical Greek philosopher Plato. A major concept in metaphysics, the theory suggests that the physical world is not as real or true as Forms. According to this theory, Forms—conventionally capitalized and also commonly translated as Ideas—are the timeless, absolute, non-physical, and unchangeable essences of all things, which objects and matter in the physical world merely participate in, imitate, or resemble.

With that in mind reexamine Orange Water. Underlying ideas matter like back bones in poems.

It only took seven years for me to figure Orange Water out. Initially, my enjoyment of the poem was purely based on its energy. I can feel it. And any poem I can feel I love.

As to the seven years to figure it out… I’m fN madd about poetry.
 
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I'm glad 42 you admitted to needing multiple years to get a grip on this poem. I read it yesterday and got a headache. 😭

I do see, now that you've explained it, how the idea of Plato's Forms drives the poem....and kudos to Sperm for catching that in his point about the emphasis on "real." Shadows on the cave wall not withstanding this is still a difficult poem for the average reader to connect to and enjoy. I have a hard time with the image of boiling bees which for me recalls the boiling bunny scene from the film Fatal Attraction. (Context is everything lol.) But, I think one can enjoy the energy of the poem {as you put it 42), the sound, color and movement, without trying to dissect the meaning. It's ok to not understand why you like something. You can just like it. There are songs I know have execrable lyrics but I like the sound and that's ok.

And I take Tzara's point about great poets going beyond telling so that an experience becomes more than a personal account (something I struggle with every time I write). I was reading Adrienne Rich this morning, one of my favorite poets, and thought this poem Rural Reflections really expresses that. It's her day in the country but it's so much more. Not Baus-level inscrutability lol, but the idea still applies.
 
Never mind Sperm (😁)

I’m still waiting for his eye to catch that / the ‘slippery eye’ in Sexton’s The Ballard of the Lonely Masturbator refers to a particular man’s slippery mental anatomy. Or proclivities. When coupled with her ‘workshop’ which appears in the same line we don’t get a sex act. We get her experiential feedback. Her poem is an expression of her lesson.

I read boil as summer. Baus does that, he invites the reader to make a mental leap (in self-faith). For example, in a Dismantled Mouth, first line: There is no such thing as a Helix Owl. We must accept that to unlock the poem. A Helix is a thing, an Owl is a thing. Together they annihilate each other. The Helix Owl’s enlarger (enlarger - force that annihilates a Helix Star and makes it look like and Owl’s eye as it enlarges and obliterates itself).

In Orange Water I make the leap that: Boil is heat is summer in viscosity (the relationship between heat, liquid and friction). Boil the Bees is an image of Bee’s honeyed summer time activities in the hive.
The boiling blooms - summer, heat nectar flow, flowers blooming like the surface of boiling water (as is with the boiling bees).

I could go on but will save us all from my maddness. Admittedly I am being onionated as per usual.

I am convinced all experienced poets do this. If you read Sexton’s Ballard of a lonely Masturbator looking for a masturbatory act you will come away with a head job. Which is very clever of her.

Thanks for the poem, read, suggest @Angeline . As always your taste in poems is exquisite. Adrienne Riches Rural Reflections is the perfect foil for all my arguments. Ahhhh splat, to paraphrase Sperm-(Factory) lol. 😅
 
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42, needs a Brazilian upper cut head job for inspiring me to think about how I write a poem. Tzara applause for his quick witted Bee delicious prompt. Angeline for her silky smooth virtuosity in replies. & M’s, for her sequin join in the bee sequence hint.

Just saying (thanks)
 
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Feedback in the holy triad: Read poems, Write poems, Give feedback.

For me, feedback is a selfish act. If I give feedback to (myself,) I establish what I understand, what I like. If the recipient (me) takes anything on board kudos to (me). If the recipient I throws my feedback in the bin, good on me.

I like poems with irreverent humor.
 
42, needs a Brazilian upper cut head job for inspiring me to think about how I write a poem. Tzara applause for his quick witted Bee delicious prompt. Angeline for her silky smooth virtuosity in replies. & M’s, for her sequin join in the bee sequence hint.

Just saying (thanks)
This is a good time on the forum. We go through long droughts with few writers interested beyond the standard Lit wanky-spanky mediocrity*. I don't know about the rest of you but I stay here because I need to be around others who want to write and explore poetry together. Outside of this forum there are very few people in my life who share this interest (obsession). And right now we've a really good group writing together. I'm very grateful for you delightful misfits. ❤️


*Not that there's anything wrong with that, but we can do so much better.
 
This is a good time on the forum. We go through long droughts with few writers interested beyond the standard Lit wanky-spanky mediocrity*. I don't know about the rest of you but I stay here because I need to be around others who want to write and explore poetry together. Outside of this forum there are very few people in my life who share this interest (obsession). And right now we've a really good group writing together. I'm very grateful for you delightful misfits. ❤️


*Not that there's anything wrong with that, but we can do so much better.
Thanks for sticking around Angeline. You give us all a safe space for poetry to happen. I feel my writing is improving because of the contributors to this thread. I don’t agree with everyone and everything but love you all for stirring up some syrupy spank free poetry.
 
Still gleaning from Sexton’s cerebral Masturbator, I think a poem like a bus needs a driver, a fundamental idea. Sexton matched her idea to a vehicle, a Ballard. It was a tight fit.

Tzara on forms, we’re all fucked 😂
 
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A small brain storm in a tiny tea cup.

Can a line of stanzas be individual poems within a poem? The issue in my mind, how would I keep everything linked?
The answer is of course yes. I suspect forms facilitate this. Even in a free write line or verse, free written poems benefit from internal rules. To misquote @Angeline a free write risks being sloppily written.

Another non amazing moment here. Move along.
 
A Black Schuttelreim

Rolling in my four/four with my side chic
We dodging her momma on the chide sic


(okay so I thought this will be easy, then I cheated. Shuttelreims are hard!)
 
A backwards horse and cart.

In parallel juxtaposition with Billy Colins, paradelle idea. It strikes me form can be intentionally chosen to amplify an idea in a poem. The horse being the form, the idea being the cart.

Example:

SWAN LAKE

The occasion a prince’s birthday love’s hunting bolt arrives,
The occasion a prince’s birthday love’s hunting bolt arrives,
A swan beautiful wears love’s crown on a lake—
A swan beautiful wears love’s crown on a lake—
Love’s bolt arrives hunting a beautiful swan on a lake
the occasion wears love’s crown —a prince’s birthday

In disguise, in tears, she pirouettes seeking his attention
In disguise, in tears, she pirouettes seeking his attention
Dusk— alone love’s prince falls, a princess lies at his feet.
Dusk— alone love’s prince falls, a princess lies at his feet.
His attention in pirouettes, she in tears in disguise alone
seeking love’s prince. Dusk falls. A princess lies at his feet.

Doomed his mother demands his love he choose. An evil spell.
Doomed his mother demands his love he choose. An evil spell.
Odette's true love deceived, the heart breaks. Odile is revealed.
Odette's true love deceived, the heart breaks. Odile is revealed.
Doomed, Odette’s true love deceived. An evil The heart breaks.
His love his mother demands he choose, Odile is spell revealed.

—a prince’s birthday, the occasion lies at his feet, love’s bolt arrives.
His attention in pirouettes. His love his mother demands he choose.
Odile is revealed, an evil spell hunting a beautiful swan on a lake—
A princess breaks, deceived in seeking love’s prince.
Odette’s doomed love the true heart tears. Dusk falls.
She alone in disguise wears love’s crown.


Scroll up in linked thread to find @Tzara’s post on a Paradelle

Note, the above is the final edit of an earlier posted effort.
 
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This place is amazing, some more posts on forms, thanks @butters et al for the clarification on Haiku.

I don’t know if I got this right but here goes,

Owl hoots somewhere near
blue moth wings against water
A bat slips across—


Thoughts regarding, choosing a form to dish a poem:

Online, Choosing Sushi

Bird looks at a leaf
leaf looks at bird in the sky
Fish catfishing bird

Which one do I like?

Cat fish fishing bird
leaf peers at bird in the sky
bird looks at a leaf

or—

Catfish fishing bird
bird looks at leaf in the sky
a cat, looks at bird
 
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Choosing a form to plate a poem is like: Choosing sushi

Three sushi rolls

Bird looks at a leaf
Bird looks at leaf in the sky
Caterpillar eats


Catfish bird fishing
Fish peers at bird in the sky
Bird looks at a leaf


Catfish fishing bird
Bird looks at fish in water
a Cat looks at bird
 
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