A day later
OMG, I've written another poem!
I'm not sure I agree with Butch about that.
Poems are supposed to be incomprehensible assemblages of words and phrases that just might as well mean...well, anything.
Seems to me that anything that just says something is merely prose.
Think on it, just what in the heck is E.A.P. yapping about with his silly ass talking Raven?
Huh?
Most of the other "great" poets read like the OED run through a shredder.
I can understand what Glenn and Janet and Alex are talking about.
It's all very nice and I love it but it's comprehensible, therefore it must be something other than poetry.
I've been struggling with my other sites (Facebook and Myspace) trying to add friends
and finding musicians to hire.
They keep updating these places and I have a hard time keeping up, especially with this slow dial-up connection.
Pfui! (did I spell that right?)
On the scientific front,
I have almost completed my studies of "dinosaur" bones and come up with a startling discovery that will rock the scientific community.
Stay tuned.
Also I spent yesterday writing another piece for string quartet.
Soon as it's finished, I'll post it for the world to ignore
I'll look for another picture.
There, that's much better.
The one on the far left, I didn't build.
The rest I did.
Perhaps I will get a picture of the bass for hooverific.
You never know what I'm likely to get up to.
posted by Lane Savant at 11:18 AM
2 Comments:
Hmmm...that pic of myself doesn't look as ugly as I remembered it.
Lowering my standards I guess, but it doesn't seem silly enough for the effect I was trying for.
Not that I can remember just what that effect was.
Well, you will be happy to hear that the first portion of your posting, where you acknowledge your exalted status as "poet" has been re-posted by me onto FFTR, with your pic along for the fun of it.
You will also be happy to hear that I have become one of your FACETIME friends. Adrian Sparks is on there too, so I will be able to check out his home page. I have not left you a message other than I registered for the fool thing. I might try and get my pick to go onto it as well.
The symbolism in your prose poems is carefully masked by levity and lewdness and lasciviousness (?), and some other stuff too, but it just cannot hide from the old butcher boy.
You garnered "52" comments on yesterday's posting, and you just pass it off like it was just another day in the neighborhood. Everybody in town, and half the punks and poets and generals in history chimed in. I don't know who their writer was, but some of their comments were pretty damned clever. E.A.P. & J.E.P. were at each other's skirts over Emily's affection and attention, but she would brook no attention other than Sir Savant's.
Since 75% of the transcribed poetry from you, Rick, and Alex, sometimes even me, and once in a while Janet (most of her stuff is already classified as poetry) are/is created and arranged by mineself--perhaps I am an arranger; like in music. I take other's work, and give it a new focus, and a new direction. I like doing it, and most of you have not raised a shit fit or a fist in defiance, so it will probably continue. But you are right in one respect--what is it? It may not be poetry as we know it, or knew it. It may be something else, something fresh and new, like your musical compositions, something from the ethers, from the void, filtering in through the cosmic and lunatic fringes.
I just buzzed past my 1,000th posting today on FFTR like a whirling dervish. The jpg's abound, and thank God they do not take up the cyber space that one or your actual scanned pics do, right?
I will, not, think of all this malarky as Melva and I push rubber to the tarmac at a gentle 43.5mpg.
Glenn
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