nolan
replying on all american machine by nolan
6 Aug 2003, 1:06 AM
anarchist
where are the weapons of mass destruction that were a threat to our "wonderful" democratic lives?
hahahahaha, do you ever not speak in metaphors? do you ever open your eyes and look life in the eyes? it seems you have some living to do.
i am now
legal speed the american way
Splittingly accurate.
We are aware of resin, and bannana peels, but since we are talking about smokingb the remains of dear sweet Stan Rice the poet extraordinare your response is neither here nor there. Can't you see I'm battling the former lord of poemranker Babbits 11 and bits and bits and bits void the kibbles?
Murder is for the brave, knaive.
Or back on.
But Z, can't you hear the Sound of Silence behind this. Come on now, everybody try it. Read the first line and then start singing the song.
Okay go:
A plastic tube in oval claret
"Hello darkness my old friend"
Your fate lays in a monotone beep.
"I've come to talk with you again.
But read Cads lines in a T.S. voice. It works. It is genius.
nix nix.
but you are right about one thing: the need for precise images.
the rest, pppphhhhhhhtt!
(and a vision/that was planted in my brain...)
1000s of ways to die. Only one way to rock!
but seriously, now. there is more than one way to die, p&k.
"It is not like they just kick you out and bring in a new patient.'
>>they did ask us to leave when my grandmother died. and they did bring in someone new, before we were out of the waiting room.
"Everyone knows that the monitor is long gone in the situation you are talking about"
>>they left the monitor on for grandma. i had to pull the cord to shut it off, because my aunt was pounding it. she could not find the switch. and the flat beep was making her hysterical.
"so most likely the only way you would know someone dead is by the breathing and that is even tough,"
>>it was very tough to tell by the breathing. her last six hours, we thought she was gone, but there was a slow blip.
she had cancers; she had an aneurysm about 6 months into fading, and went in one night. she did wait for my cousin to get there, who had to wait to catch a train from grand central to CT, because she didn't have a car. and then my brother had to go and get the cuz at the station. she went in, spent 15 minutes with grandma, and six months of waiting was over in six hours.
beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Okay, Z has taken the time to inform me that she and her family were kicked to the curb after the granny kicked it, and that she was attached to a monitor. She probably watched flowers bloom under the fluorescents too.
i think ur trying to hard with your rhyming. most lyrics don't rhyme. You got to just let it flow instead of pushing to make things fit. overall i give it a 7
Tnis poem comes from a time in my life when I was less comfortable with who i am, and wanted with my entire being, to be like all my friends: to have blond hair, blue eyes, and milky white skin.
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. otters lick toxic wounds. hahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah fluvial ventricles. hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahah. you cannot expect a true and mature poet to take this seriously. I supoose it won some high school contest or a million dollar prize at the website everyone bitches about. hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Have you ever heard the old records of T.S. reading the wasteland. I bet you write in the voice. Looooooook at theeeeeeeeeeeeee barren dregs offfff drudgereeeeeeeee; the beaver fights with breviteeeeeeeee; the squreeeeerl die at the hand off a glooooowing aaaaacorn.
Thats right! You'll be buried under enormous piles of CURDS!!!
That's right! I said CURDS!!! By the way, has anyone seen my curds? I thought I left them on the credenza next to my cufflinks.
But seriously now. By hearing you whine as swine the other day I have started to figure that you just don't get it, and then to hear from the snipped brother that you are not fond of the rewrite was just another in a long line of many examples where you work suffers. In this piece, it is trying to mix a simple setting with overbearing themes dealing with the almighty FATE and TIME. Can't you figure out a way to simply these concepts into images? Because when you say things like "FATE is a flat line. la de da" it sounds, well, just hokey. And then you throw goofy rhyme schemes into the picture and you have a true piece of comic genius. Then the fact that people fall for the crap shows why we are continually failing as the human race. A subject like this is so fragile and the line is so fine when you are dealing with it that there is little room for generalizing. Everything has to be specific, even if you have to throw out wild images like an embalmer calling at 3am. It works on that level. It does not here because anyone who has gone through this knows that there is a bereavement period after the death and in most cases a huge amount of relief and sadness thrown into the picture. It is not like they just kick you out and bring in a new patient. There is paper work; there are phone calls. There is usually an unbearable silence. Everyone knows that the monitor is long gone in the situation you are talking about so most likely the only way you would know someone dead is by the breathing and that is even tough, This situation isn't the ER. I feel like you showed up for the show and when the movie was over simply went home and wrote a bad poem. Where are the guts? I think you will find that in simplifying the language and the context of what you are saying you will have more sucess. Finding precise images in each line and not one's that everyone is familiar with because the watch too much TV.
Thanks for cleaning up the typos. I was thinking that you were creating a new word that combined "fine" and "phallus" to make "phine" because you were throwing your "phine" at the mattress. (The mattress, I believed, probably deserved it.)
You deserve more 10's.