poetandknowit
replying on Icarus up by horus8
16 Dec 2002, 2:45 PM
Yes, master horusJH, you are correct and sorry to hear the Taos trip was all conjured. I quite enjoy the spirit of the festival. It is very dumbing down, as you like to call it. I suppose I will have to watch more ice hockey. Anyway, please refer all further references to my last comment in your favorite Katie poem, to the last rant of yours. And please continue with trashing my dead mother or what other you want to drag out into the open. I have nothing to hide. I have no feelings. So fuck you clueless wonder.
my homey? cliffside i'm guessing your either english young and searching for an identity, or american and a savant, autistic..a bit sharp and dull..the appropriate term is me homie, spleefton.
"to music that cannot exist" is the only worth while quote in i would suggest making
"Our four sets of bodies dancing about, hands tapping on the steering
wheel and seats. Bobbing our heads, to music that cannot exist." the whole poem, but that's impossible isn't it cuz that would just ruin your point now wouldn't it. "press alt 4" what the fuck does that mean? oh wait...wait...i..almost..oh ha1ha!ha! NO.
But can you staple and stamp with your arms in a pole soaked in semen with your chin. how many words a minute? next.
This is my problem with you. i truly think you are occasionally a brilliant writer, but they are a dime a dozen and boring as fuck as of late. i appologize for dragging your mother into the boston market, children, girlfriend, god's wife, whatever other absolute pointless dribble bullshit you had to add to the mix, oh yeah dick sucking. (a persons art does not always represent the way they live) but you insisted as always in straying from the core of truth of the matter, that poem was shit, and i'm not even saying that i haven't been known to step in shit myself, but i can differentiate between shit, funny shit, good shit, and pure shit, and that my friend was shit...now if you want to see pure shit go to number one in both the best and worst catagories and click. enjoy. (locke, or stan rice hmmm.) stan rice any day, why you might ask, because i'm not above it, i'm underneath it. maybe you should try to dumb it down sometimes too..it will ease facial tensions and sour gut, oh right after i read some locke i'll have a locke with tomatoes and onions, and read some wolfe. what a crock, you, telling me, to read more. why don't you move to Venezuela and preach your theories on reading down there oil slave.
time is what i have, and yes i know you can.
people are strange, submissive dominant sex is the rave of the future, because it was the rave of the past. tension builds and creates. where's the backstory here? gone. leaving the reader with an empty space to fill using their own imaginations. that can be good and bad que no. a good spanking and dinner on the floor does loads for a struggling relationship..well, much more than an overpaid JEW shrink none the less. nice poem.
very, very, clever.inventive, amusing. it left me smiling, but still in truth..i hate you. very much..every fiber of your midget with a bum leg demeanor..may your finger nails explode, and your tonsils grow back unevenly.
meow. 0.
that's one way to do it. :) thank you for posting this to poemranker, btw, and I hope it serves you well.
The music that cannot exist, is exactly how it sounds. You know those songs that you just -have- to dance to. You can't totally control yourself? The music that cannot exist, it overtakes you entirely in some form or another, (I plan writing many different version of the song/poem). In this poem, I am in the drivers seat, two others -two other sets of eyes-, also in the car. As the music that cannot exist plays, it totally engulfs us, flashing away all our cares and worries. Quotes like, "You can't because you don't," refers to the things in life..you just wouldn't do. But with the music, all that falls away.
We pretty much, drive chaotically about, through meadows, streets, sidewalks, etcetera.. 'press X' -twenty points will give you 50 years- (Twisted Metal thing..You run people over and get points -_-) Well, sooner or later, we crash. But the music doesn't stop. The cops come and so forth. He takes us out of the car, and we are more or less stunned and confused, blank really. He puts us into his car, starts the car and turns on the radio. The music that cannot exist starts again.. And the process starts all over again.
So that about explains some of it...
this is definitely strange, and makes me want to add a "comments from the author" section so folks can get what you're trying to say and give better feedback.
I really like the "plot" of this piece, and I like the device of interpersing dialog. Some of the images are a bit obscure for me to get, though it can be argued that that's a desirable thing.
greatness. i had that happen to friend before. good stuff. a nine
nice one. you got talent, sir.
how come so much of your stuff is such inane dogshit? this one almost makes up for (some of) it.
this is nice, really nice.
Xmas always breeds feelings of isolation, and decadent loneliness, i found this uplifting on a 2nd read and the last stanza is more spiritual than secular, however thoughts are always divided by thought provokers like this, my votes a 9
Interesting. I can see my own friends at far away, far awhen bars,from the time before when I still longed for raucous nights of confusion and soulful empathy.-8
good oneN
good oneN