Epitaph to homo sapiens
Veni, vidi, vici
futui, rapui, mori.
(I came, I saw, I conquered
I fvcked, I raped, I died.)
Epitaph to homo sapiens
Veni, vidi, vici
futui, rapui, mori.
(I came, I saw, I conquered
I fvcked, I raped, I died.)
A Lonely Man In Need
God's dinosaur came round for tea
his cup provoked a fight with me
death tumbled down
life's staircase
the dino shot
a perfect ace.
My tea was drunk,
hung over me
then Leonard came
with all his fame
he sang and rang the bell, when - bang!
Einstein shot and Cupid ran.
The hunt was on,
the witch in flames,
the zealots, bigots, men in caves
came all to have a sip of tea
but Jesus got a cup for free.
The harpers harped,
the mistress sang
and at the gate
the phallus rang
alas! a lass could not be found
to climb the mounted roundabout;
'tis the saddest thing indeed
to be a lonely man in need.
Last edited by Guest; 12-10-2012 at 01:25 PM.
I drew a line
My death insurance paid out,
I bought a second life.
My debts continued to dig my grave,
my priest continued to dig my name.
Between my first and last breath
I drew a line:
blue with blood and red with wine.
Then the bad news came:
they found my treasure island
floating between "Eat!" and "Die!"
Penniless and broken,
my children crying on the street,
my hope hiding with the rats,
sweet Jesus warming only
the shadows of my past.
Last edited by Guest; 12-11-2012 at 11:02 AM.
Bugger
I died.
Aww bugger.
Bugger bugger bugger!
I just wanted to find out
what this life business is all about.
As if a hundred years would be even close to enough!
Silly God.
Can't a bloke get a second chance?
Farewell, Child
(Coming of Age)
I craft for you a vessel
of love-imbued fears
and fashion for you oars
from proud yet bitter tears;
I weave a sail of memories
and watch you leave the quay
to sail the tides of time
until we meet beyond the sea.
Last edited by Guest; 12-11-2012 at 10:40 AM.
kick me
please
ahh...!
-b-o-r-e-d-
kick me
please
ahhhh...!
-h-e-a-d-a-c-h-e-
kick me
harder
ahhhhhh.....!
-g-r-e-y-l-i-f-e-
kick
kick
KICK
me...
aaaahhhhh...!!
-r-e-a-l-i-t-y-i-s-a-b-i-t-c-h-
Kick
KICK!
KICK!!!
ME!
aaaaaaahhhhhhh...!!!
-a-a-A-A-A-h-h-H-H-H-.-.-.-!-!-!-!-!
KICK!
KICK!!
KICK!!!!!
-p-u-n-c-h-
Ouch...!
-k-i-c-k-
OOOOuuuuch!!!!!
-c-l-i-c-k-
Sheezus nooooOOOO!
-o-h-y-e-s-
..........
Why?.....!....
me?
...
-R-I-P-
Last edited by Guest; 12-12-2012 at 03:54 AM.
I want to kill people
I want to kill people.
I'm glad that there are wars.
I get to shoot and kill,
defending freedom from remorse.
I tell you something:
with no wars
we cannot make no peace.
And what the f**k would I do then?
Rob banks and kill police?
Zak and several others call it "automatic writing." That may be a translation from Greek and/or other languages. In these cases, the reference is to pen-to-paper or fingers-to-keypad and the thoughts and poetry flow out, seemingly without specific effort or destination. In this case I agree--to me it is the marvelous creative process. This, too, I experience with most of my poems. (Refining is another matter, and more consciously intellectual.)
OI, I agree with your latter inclination.
_ _ _ _ _
Back in 1800s America, spiritism--so-called getting in touch with the spirit realm and/or dead souls--was a major 'religious' movement, involving seances, use of spirit mediums, etc. At that time and for long after, the term "automatic writing" in America meant (and to some still means) to give one's body over to the powers of the spirit world. I.e., a part of "spiritism," contacting the "dead," and/or "spirit world," for good or evil. EDIT: The "writer" somewhat goes into a trance and allows their writing hand to be used by 'spirits' to write whatever (and, of course, sometimes money falls into those same hands!). Some of those 'spirits' are quite naughty and vicious, I have heard!! Others, I suppose 'say' what's desired to be heard.
For the sake of poetry discussion on ATL, it seems "automatic writing" is that which we might call "train-of-thought," "free-style-writing," "open-ended writing," and other such names; overall meaning a free-flow of subconscious thought that comes into one's consciousness, part of the not-fully-understood human creative process. That is the meaning I ascribe to the general term on ATL called "automatic writing," and the meaning to which most refer. I am not dictating what it means for you, dear OI! Rather, I reiterate what has been discussed on previous threads and the concensus of meaning on ATL to date.![]()
Last edited by Frankie Jasmine; 12-16-2012 at 04:17 PM.
Thanks, Frankie. Mostly I just write, but every now and then, there's a clearer structure; and since I'm not particularly widely read at all when it comes to English poetry, I think that there will be more (subconscious) structure the more I read. The pieces I personally like the best write themselves to a tune I like, such as those I've written to Leonard Cohen tunes. They simply dance out of the keyboard, even though some of them are fairly long and complex.
If that's the case, OI, you're not just good with words, you have musical talent also! If you ever record any of your lyrics, I, for one, would be happy to hear them! I think the case is similar with Doug Denslowe, he is a full-songwriter. His songs have music also, which he knows by heart, though he's probably written hundreds.
Only a few of my "poems" come out as lyrics with music in my brain; so I don't have that added pleasure nearly as often as you do!
P.S. I don't know how in the world English is not your first language. You have such a command of it.
Last edited by Frankie Jasmine; 12-16-2012 at 06:31 PM.
Thanks. Indeed; I don't have the tools to record (I only played piano between ages 5 and 13), so the "orchestra is stuck inside" so to speakOne day perhaps...
OI, I was gonna say the same thing as Frankie about "automatic writing", the art of just loosening the mind to walk, run, fly, or dig wherever it wants. I don't know if you would categorize what you wrote on this page (at least) as "automatic", but I Love It Love It Love It.
Last edited by MoonRide*r*; 12-16-2012 at 11:14 PM.
There is no glamour in sudden death, and nobody ever wins a war.
:
Rockers Unite! => ROCK 'n' Roll Halls of Fame
ThanksI haven't posted anything I have "laboured" with, everything has been written in a matter of minutes. So were all of my lyrics to Cohen tunes, though the editing afterwards may have taken an hour or so. I thought to add - the more tools my subconscious has, the more perfect statues it can carve. The more I feed it by reading, listening, talking, living... the more tools it has. Despite appearances, I am not that widely read, and very, very inexperienced when it comes to any other kind of music except classical. I'm currently acquainting myself with Terry Pratchett, Aldous Huxley and James Joyce, and I'm looking around for a handy, not-too-thick "classic English poetry" book.
I can almost say the same for myself, having only the luxury of a few more years to do more reading and so on. But as with anything, it's much more a matter of absorption and assimilation as opposed to quantity. I have only read a small few of the great classics, and only samplings of some of the greatest writers and thinkers in history.
Methinks also that if we get in too big a hurry to read too much too soon, what will be left for our much-later years? There is a limited supply of greatness in literature, music and other arts, and I for one believe we should ration our consumption over time, so as not to deplete the supply long before our lives are ended.
Just some random thoughts, whether true or not.
There is no glamour in sudden death, and nobody ever wins a war.
:
Rockers Unite! => ROCK 'n' Roll Halls of Fame
Well, I keep meeting the "same old friends" all over the place, most recently in Pratchett's works... I'd say that there is a very limited selection of profoundly deep insights, a wider selection of beautiful descriptions of said insights and a relatively large selection of profoundly beautiful works mixing the previous two. Enough to last a lifetime, I'm sure. I recently finished Walter Miller Jr.'s A Canticle for Leibowitz, and encountered at least half a dozen deeply profound insights I have had independently in these past few years. Same with McCormack's The Road. But I don't persist; if a piece of art struggles to capture my interest, I let it go and pick up something else that comes with greater ease.
I recently finished Golding's Lord of the Flies in one go; it's been a while since I enjoyed a book that much. Probably when I was reading Russian classics some ten years ago; I haven't really read any fiction since, only re-starting now. Pratchett is also very palatable. I'm currently going through random "classy" English literature, never having paid it much attention before (except fantasy and sci-fi). I never went to a school where English literature was part of the curriculum, so I feel left behind and very eager to catch up - as long as the books feel genuinely interesting to me.
"Farewell Child" - This is too beautiful to have been written by anyone I have the privilege to know. I am humbled by its beauty. Thank you, OI, very much.
Thank you, FrankieI hope my children may say the same one day, seeing I wrote it with them in mind...
I ploughed through James Joyce "Ulysses", the most difficult book I've ever read/tried to read and Aldous Huxley we had to read at university.
Have fun![]()
It would be interesting to know, in what way Cohen wrote- thought -through or spontaneously? His melodies are certainly solid ground on which those who want to try may
plant their own poetry trees, OrchestraInside! But sure, it's still a considerable effort, "a matter of minutes???
WOW!
After Xmas I sit down to read more.....I'm anxious
@Frankie: Thanks for comments on automatic writing. Indeed I write lyrics to melodies often in a more thoughtful way. Don't know why really.
This discussion is thrilling . Thanks to all participating in it
@Orchestra: You seem to have read some very good stuff! Russian classics I found a must, "Lord of the Flies" too![]()
Last edited by amaryn; 12-19-2012 at 12:28 PM.
I saw an interview with Cohen where he recalled a discussion with Dylan, and I got the impression that Cohen generally labours quite extensively with his works, but nonetheless attributes them to a "force inside", one he does not control, whereas Dylan could write a complete song in just a few minutes.
Cohen re-wrote Hallelujah 80 times...
Season's Greetings
everyone gathers
somewhere else
everyone dances
somewhere else
bottomless loneliness dances with me
desolate solitude
stays by my side
while everyone else stays
somewhere else...
Last edited by Guest; 12-21-2012 at 07:53 AM.