… is something I always think about–even sometimes to the point of dreaming about it. Last night was such a night. I dreamed about images within a poem and about writing my way through the images. I’ve been reading about expressionist poetry, what makes it, who made/makes it, and how it is made.

An example from the early poetry of Bertolt Brecht:

I, Bertolt Brecht…make friends with peo-
ple. And I wear
A derby on my head as others do.
I say: they’re strangely stinking animals.
And I say: no matter, I am, too.

Selden Rodman states: “For his style, Brecht drew upon the richly formalized folk balladry of Germany, upon the understatement of Chinese lyricism, upon the Bible and Protestant liturgical writings, above all on the undecorated directness of Greek drama”.

Brecht searched beyond his world to find his world.

The search for faith appears as something integral to expressionist poetry. Is artistic passion a reflection of our faith, whether we see it or not, or merely a reaction against the faith of others?

(Stay tuned for the next installment of “Poets in Space” )