I love this Claudette. This is poetry with a strong message for me, and other left-brain dominant thinkers.
"Analysis" is a cognitive process involving objectifying (things), dividing into smaller and smaller elements, searching for mechanisms and control. It is predominantly carried out by the left hemisphere, and has been responsible for many of the greatest discoveries and achievements in science. It is the hemisphere of language and conscious thought. However if not balanced by the integrative and vivifying holism of the right hemisphere, which actually perceives the real and dynamic world, it runs the risk of denaturing what it analyzes – resulting in disenchantment, depersonalization, reductionism.
Keats complained in his day of scientists "unweaving the rainbow" in their analysis of light and colour. This poem by Claudette reminds us of the danger of excessive analysis. We can lose what we treasure, kill what we love.
The poet has already slipped into the analytic mode – referring not to "his" or "her" (a person's) kiss, but "the" kiss. She tells us she is "trying not to analyze". For we left brain dominated thinkers, it can indeed be a struggle. Analysis is critical (literally) to life, but should ideally be under the guidance of the right hemisphere, which is more intuitively connected to the real living world. And fascinatingly, the poet here has intuited the latest discoveries in brain science – that the way the right hemisphere exercises its influence over the left is by inhibition – by suppressing certain processes that otherwise take on a life of their own. Hence she is indeed "trying not" to over-analyze.
Which brings me back to the openning line of her poem. One word: "moonlight". It is an enduring symbol of the magical and romantic. And it is her statement of triumphing over the analytic urge that would threaten the real living meaning of that kiss by looking for a chain of causes.
I have of course been exhaustively analyzing this poem, but in my doing so, my left brain is at the service of my right. I too conclude triumphantly that art and poetry and relationships are enhanced and rendered more meaningful when we balance our intuited experiences and the analysis of them. This poem is that balancing process in action – in the lived experience of the poet, and hopefully also in the life of anyone who takes this lesson, and applies it to their own life: the lesson of "trying not" to overanalyze what should not be overanalyzed.
Sometimes our happiness will come when we let ourselves just be bathed in the moonlight.
Thank you again Claudette for a profound and affecting poem.
Analysing anything robs of its beauty. For example, if one writes frozen Hydrogen and Oxygen molecules for 'snow flakes', the poetry certainly dies! I loved the poetry of Claudette in its pure form!
May 1st, 2013 at 4:23 pm
I love this Claudette. This is poetry with a strong message for me, and other left-brain dominant thinkers.
"Analysis" is a cognitive process involving objectifying (things), dividing into smaller and smaller elements, searching for mechanisms and control. It is predominantly carried out by the left hemisphere, and has been responsible for many of the greatest discoveries and achievements in science. It is the hemisphere of language and conscious thought. However if not balanced by the integrative and vivifying holism of the right hemisphere, which actually perceives the real and dynamic world, it runs the risk of denaturing what it analyzes – resulting in disenchantment, depersonalization, reductionism.
Keats complained in his day of scientists "unweaving the rainbow" in their analysis of light and colour. This poem by Claudette reminds us of the danger of excessive analysis. We can lose what we treasure, kill what we love.
The poet has already slipped into the analytic mode – referring not to "his" or "her" (a person's) kiss, but "the" kiss. She tells us she is "trying not to analyze". For we left brain dominated thinkers, it can indeed be a struggle. Analysis is critical (literally) to life, but should ideally be under the guidance of the right hemisphere, which is more intuitively connected to the real living world. And fascinatingly, the poet here has intuited the latest discoveries in brain science – that the way the right hemisphere exercises its influence over the left is by inhibition – by suppressing certain processes that otherwise take on a life of their own. Hence she is indeed "trying not" to over-analyze.
Which brings me back to the openning line of her poem. One word: "moonlight". It is an enduring symbol of the magical and romantic. And it is her statement of triumphing over the analytic urge that would threaten the real living meaning of that kiss by looking for a chain of causes.
I have of course been exhaustively analyzing this poem, but in my doing so, my left brain is at the service of my right. I too conclude triumphantly that art and poetry and relationships are enhanced and rendered more meaningful when we balance our intuited experiences and the analysis of them. This poem is that balancing process in action – in the lived experience of the poet, and hopefully also in the life of anyone who takes this lesson, and applies it to their own life: the lesson of "trying not" to overanalyze what should not be overanalyzed.
Sometimes our happiness will come when we let ourselves just be bathed in the moonlight.
Thank you again Claudette for a profound and affecting poem.
Strider
May 2nd, 2013 at 6:10 am
Strider, thank you for taking the time to write such an insightful comment about my poem.
I appreciate it so much.
May 1st, 2013 at 6:09 pm
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever, to be appreciated as it is, without analyzing… kills the beauty of it all.
May 2nd, 2013 at 6:11 am
Madhu, I certainly agree. Thanks for commenting.
Claudette
May 3rd, 2013 at 3:58 pm
What a beautiful poem!
May 11th, 2013 at 4:11 am
ragandboneshop1, thanks for commenting.
Claudette
May 20th, 2013 at 10:54 am
sparkling
nightskies in her eye
sigh
June 8th, 2013 at 9:17 am
Analysing anything robs of its beauty. For example, if one writes frozen Hydrogen and Oxygen molecules for 'snow flakes', the poetry certainly dies! I loved the poetry of Claudette in its pure form!