Tuesday, July 11, 2006

i don't believe it

i still don't believe it, this is the kind of thing we could have a discussion about eh?


donald rumsfeld writes poetry. i think... check that website and cast your vote in the fox news pole as to whether or not we should include it in our defense policy.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

what up crackuhz

my people, how you livin. bloggin is what peolpe like osama do to become "super empowered individuals" in a globalized world, bet you didn't want to here that, but seriously, jodi williams sent emails to people all over the world and in one year she got NATO and many non-NATO country to join the world wide ban against land mines. that means that no country will ever again be able to maufature land mines that are buried and put shrapnel into five years olds twenty years later. i'm scared of the shit i put in the blogs cuz if this page never goes away, i may rub someone on the edge in the wrong way, anyways, we came a long way but fuck you if you stop reading books after college, i got high expectations for all of ya'll. the real people, the asshole and the angel in every one of us, show us what you got. peace

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

this, this is for my video

when words are chosen ryhmes, are made for the purpose of completeing a ryhme and not necessarily to promote thought, it is called lyrics. one problem i have understanding the nature of poetry is the role that audible portion plays. is bob dylan a story teller, a poet, or a lyricist. clearly he tells ancient, classic and contemporary stories, and many times has been know to ryhme, but do i consider him a walt whitman. troupe puts pressure on what i consider to be the essense of poetry. i am the kind of person who after a while, began to undersatnd that the consruction and invovlment of poems from bishop and o'driscoll. words that did not assist the poems make up were not used. no filler words, i guess that is the way i felt about walt and from then on i looked for other writers to adapt this technique. however, contributing to my problem above, i feel that i would dicredit some of my favorite songwriters who DO use filler words to complete the line. as a musician i understand that this must be done to adapt the lyrics to the melody. furthermore i also understand that the reason we have many of the kinds of misic we have today is because it was a necessary for survival of many cultures who used the words and sounds and many times jibba jabba to make the music more enjoyable which helps lift low spirits. troupe is in this category. i consider him a poet. maybe not a good one, and deffinatley not like the other european influenced writers, but that is expected. i was initially angered by the line in choruses "whatever madmen do, in katmandu, in nepal, and in new york city...", i thought the ryhme was more material than meaningful, and i'm probably right, but shit, differnt strokes for different folks. i cannot compare classical greek poetry (which is supposed to be the most beautiful in the world) to walt because i cannot understand the ancint greek language. therefore i accept the possibility that the original poetry, which may be the best, will never fall upon my ears as it did for the greeks in the theatre. perhaps the human verbal language was once perfected and has long since died. i will allow the ryhmes, even if tacky and superficial, to move the tone and pitch of the the readers voice in my head, it's not always me in there, and i don't see any use organizing poems in a hierarchy of correctness. however, if ryhme becomes a part of the poem, i believe the flow and tone of the poem should reflect the reason to choose the particualr ryhme, unless you are teaching kids how to read.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

this play is about our eyes. our eyes as much as we want to believe that the sun looks beautiful, they are incapable of showing truth, but booze on the other hand when mixed with eyes tend to distort a distorted scene, creating something that looks more like the truth than the one we originally believed. a child cannot be expected to understand why the world looks the way it does, nor should they be, because if they don't do it for themselves. as the child grows up under the influence of a person who is distorting their image of the world, the child is driven further into the darkness with no tools to help them out. this is how i see the parents of the characters in yelloman. booze entered their parents life and their parants parents lives at a time when perhaps their world was just coming into view, the times were changing but with booze the world slows down proportionally with your ability to understand the reasons for change, from then on, regression, ingnorance, and hatred, mindless hatred. Eugenes dad who he killed thought he had to work harder than the dark geechies to rise above them in status. this is an idea arrising from the fundamental rules of business, but they began to mix business with society and form a general idea of ways to categorize, or stereotype groups of people to make it easier to be successful in the business world, this sounds pretty normal, but if i compared the american business structure to that of the caste system in india, i bet it would piss some people off, well fuck them! something that i think should be understood through the play is the irrationallity of the so called colored categorizing eachother into light and dark and dark light and red and yellow niggas. the reader should see the amazing stupidity of this especially because Alma and Eugene got along so well better than well they were made for eachother by people of all dfferent colors. the social implications for this play would be overwhelming if the people orlandersmith writes about would read literature like this, but it's easy to have southern comfort in the shade and knowing the illusion of racial equality in other places, but not in yours, allows for a life of tradition and regression.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

nevery second

the firey ellipse decends the horizon
morning doves don't recall dawn
fear of death call us all, to the river
cut through sedinemtary, igneous, galactic vortex.
dumb cow, three stomachs
still, he won't tell me
how good it is going down.
walkers, lovers, crackheads,
head to the Might Miss
decending elevation and temperature
proportional, ofactory hues hold eyes
on dripping geology, melting,
oozing towards, longing Lousiana deltas.
we count syringes and notice
collapsed buildings and bridges
and are content believing we are alone
and are wishing to be alone
unaware our shadows have untied from us,
wandered off & gotten lost.
only in a new moon
do we hope they will return
with stones and syringes collected
in little piles on the sand.
When will this film be over?
or has it been on repeat
since the primordial mass
was reflected by an unknown light?
If the river did not reflect,
would you open your eyes
or become the river
or bridge or syringe.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

how long till we can forget about the dead?

Chances are I walked into this set of poems with tons of predictions as to what I would see, it’s unfair to Yusef and it’s unfair to me, but the good thing is I caught on to something I did not plan on taking notice of, so my thoughts may be somewhat objective. I just pulled an O’Driscoll huh. What I first noticed was the repetitive subjects but also the aesthetic usages of things like moonlight, dancing, trees, and ghosts. Pretty obvious stuff, also most poems seem as though they were written while on night watch, observing the enemy and other things, he must not make a noise, I bet he caught a bunch of grief for being a “poet” from the brothers and the officers, if they ever did find out. Over and over the moonlight dances off skin and trees and water and guns and everything, I kinda heard it before, I read “all quite on the western front” and other WWI and WWII stories and many write about moonlight. I understand the importance and beauty and all the great things that involve moonlight, prisoners, poets, and politicians love the moon, maybe he lust saying it to get you to get his back or at least side with him on this subject. Poems like “tunnels and red pagoda” are something I what to talk about, these ones are quick and move fast and end up funny but bloody, what is the purpose of inserting them where they are? Also I can relate every poem to scene in a Vietnam movie I have seen, to me this means that a soldier tells me the same things Hollywood does. this means that I won’t be able to understand a real war situation because I’m living in a movie. I’m cold. Done

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

the skin, film, foam, the visible disembodied soul of a dead person

Learning new philosophies of life is what interests me. I thought I had heard them all, but they just keep showing up, all over the place. There are so many damn people, and so many before them with centuries of perfection of their respective lifestyles. All are right and all are wrong, and all have an order in which they believe things occur and reasons for their being. Dennis added a couple of new ideas, but one he elaborated on so vividly that I was compelled to compare it with all other philosophies I could remember. That is chance. Many people I believe have entertained the thought that things are the way they are today, because of chance. Easily acceptable and refutable, chance does not go unnoticed. “Looking Forward” is a very dense poem, and is strategically placed after a number of poems that dive into the realm of intrapersonal perception and duty. In “Him, Body Time, Roads Not Taken, and In Office”, Dennis is talking about the ways we realize ourselves at a certain time and place and wonder as to the meaning of our presence. Once the reader has read the poems leading to “Looking Forward” they will probably go back and try to re-read what they thought they missed, and probably did, now they are going to read looking forward, which with any luck, will take them right back where they started. The message or at least topic of the poem is how we are involved in the natural and how to make sense of the functions and products of the natural order. I think it is extremely important for Dennis to have S.J. Gould’s statement in the poem where it was. He would not have put it there and this poem probably would not have been written was it not for Gould. For the speaker, it is all the freedoms of modern day capitalism, from picking lotto numbers to wearing duck chick yellow sweaters that reveals this truth. Why does he get to make these decisions, surely the natural order of natural law provided this chance? Or was it something else? Maybe the modern order is largely a product of contingency? Nowadays there a remedies to aid ailments caused by other remedies for other ailments. Is that chance? Is it chance that we have the ability to leave the church forever? In nature (untouched forest) the world may be understood to happen through an ecological cycle that allows for life to coexist with the cycle. Even with that some believe there is a big white guy in the sky sculpting the world with his fingers. If we back up to nature we may find that our consciousness has broken the cycle and we are now in a world of chaos and uncertainty. Surly we can explain how many pronouns came into being and what they were referred before their current popularity. But does that tell us why they are here? Big pronouns, accidents, not that important, at least not to everyone. Waste time, injure eternity? What about the skin?