|ones' flu over the cuckoo's mist
the idea of the ideal,
we recoil back to the sores:
has paid its due --
nothing's taking its toll
on the ewe, or meh,
or meme, or hue...
what would the moth say
to the flame?
nothing's taking the blame
for light's handicap,
which is just
t o o
s l o w
for our inner motor,
too slow to show that
is but the point...
in spacetime, playing eat
and 'branes, your after[-]year,
hear after here:
eat remains 'infinity'
infinitely, if not only
for its arbitrary finiteness
which count not the countable
or the accounted for, but
the moments fleeting and teeming
with the want and need to be
duplicated with the kindred
commencing a cloning procedure
of this within my cranial wall
until 'approven' viable.]
thanks, black swan.
4 Aug 11
Rated 10 (5) by 1 users.
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fractalcore, nothingness is the point of contact. rightie, siree. just being grateful, it's nothingness. who knows? you gave me the idea. *blink-wink*. so clever moves in there..playing eat by ear, can't wait!
getting the hang of what might have been read as intricate spills. deciphering has never been perfected but the spell is kinda fractically stimulated.
remains a fan. :)
dear unk, math is 'infinity' given [arbitrary] finiteness
and is a logic system based on matter/substance taken
as vectors in space[time] always touching and never
separated by any vacuum. but, of course, that's the
technical mumbo-jumbo side of it all -- you seem to
get the [figurative] gist of it, and, yes, playing eat by
ear, pay-seance ease always a beer[for]twoo, haha...
thanks for stopping
thank you much, softyetharsh.
just let me know if your fan needs maintenance and
cleanup -- i'll do it for free. also, i hope your ceiling
fan is still hanging up there, hahaha...
you're right: it is wordy and diluted as whell, which means
that i succeeded in 'downplaying-by-oversaying' the real
poem, which you perhaps can see through, anyway. this
was written under circumstances that did not really favor
an honest write -- i did not want to give myself away in
the first place -- but this marked a very significant turning
point in me.
i know the poem quite well and can't let it out just now --
that is, not explicitly. the reader will have to read me from
what i'm not saying.
the dynamics of [the] language [of poetry] coincide with a
person's momentary suchness in that the former is like the
doppleganger of the latter. we write with a motive, and so
our writing moves and looks according to that. also, there
is always a spectrum to everything, including the expression
of love, hence 'bad poetry', 'weak poetry', 'strong poetry',
if it were my intention to fully express my feelings of love
in this particular instance, then maybe you'd go looking for,
if not writing down, your own messiah by now, and, of course,
this attempt at a poem would look entirely different.
Wow, Witt, those are harsh comments. I certainly never saw Fractalcore as trying to be a messiah, just a poet having fun with words and word concepts.
s'ok, unk. wittgenstub desn't mean any harm by saying that.
we are just discussing, really, and i know where she's coming
from -- she actually seems to be the only one who cares
enough for poetry and want sit to be both serious and taken
seriously, which is good.
this is what poetry critique should be.
nice to hear from you, dear unk.
what she actually means by 'messiah' is 'poet'. if
i can't be a poet in my writing, then why should i
even post this piece here and let people sit through
it unnourished/malnourished the entire time?
great title. you carried that particular charm all the way through. i like the departures of voice between stanzas, but you still keep it unified.
witlessknub=royal pain in the arse
just grateful you get to write. don't thank me, thank her.
ok, wittgenstub, you said something in the forum threads and i replied to
with this piece in mind, so i'm transcribing my comment there, including a
quote of of what you said, onto this comment area for the duration:
> i don't think it's conceal, though i'm not very good at concealing.
> i think it's that that thing which everyone here would recognize as a
> 'feeling' is felt: something is satisfied, though we couldn't point
> to any one satisfying thing.
> sense-perception has no judgment. it's your judgment which filters
> and balances your sense-perceptions into 'knowledge'. we don't see
> anything at all: we see as our seeing is programmed by our experience.
> the virtue of being an artist is, in this sense, the ability to see
> without feeling. that sounds odd, but you're able to imagine gore and
> grime and not break down crying. or, you're seeing heaps of garbage
> and come out of it with beautiful color patterns and strange new
> poetry isn't natural, but how we use language at all isn't natural,
> even if language is. as isabelle says, poetry is an off-shoot. it's a
> suburb of language, as the real wittgenstein says, but language itself
> is a suburb of sense-perception's need to judge. very complicated,
> but, realistically, poetry is always a protest, a fight against
> nature's 'Laws'. is mathematics and rationality a law of nature, or
> a way of coping with it?
but, isn't 'concealing' the idea behind being figurative in [the use of]
language? for instance, i use a concept like 'vectors in space[time]' as
my metaphor for 'people in love'. the syntax there appears quite
'mechanically logical' and devoid of feelings, yes? if a reader is clueless
to how vectors are supposed to behave and look, then the metaphor
will never be grasped by the reader, will it? that's how tricky poetry can
be, in which case, the critique would be leaning towards the demand for
a 'straightforward' language which the clueless reader would hopefully
sense-perception has no judgment, indeed, albeit acting as a sieve for
info. however, sense-perception, though not instantaneous, translates automatically into 'knowledge', and so it is 'automatic judgment' in itself,
since we cannot 'decide' what to perceive, i.e. see, hear, feel, taste, and
smell beforehand, in most cases.
yes, language is the logical consequence of sense-perception, and that
is only because we are 'human' at all with the biological urge and capacity
to verbalize what we perceive, which makes poetry not only a suburb of
language, but also a 'natural', rather than unnatural, tendency to express
escapism, i.e. a sort of protest, to some extent.
math is the number metaphor for the physical world, and the physical
world can also be the metaphor for math. the point, line, circle, polygon,
mobius strip, tesseract, klein bottle, etc, don't exist in the actual world,
but there are approximate and compromised models of them in 3D. so,
the coping there clearly comes from both sides, but only as a segment
of the whole cycle, since the cosmos is a paradigm with a built-in feedback
mechanism. of course, the cosmos [can] exist[s] as an a priori infinite
knowledge without man as the observer and facilitator of change, and
since physical conditions invariably lead to all sorts of 'perceptive'
organisms, the observer and the observed cope with each other as they
shape each other over time.
it's always a 2-way street, and poetry is just our way of pushing back
to the 'outside' world, which then pushes back in endless cycles, which
then makes every seeming observable 'pattern' into arbitrary absolutes,
since nothing stays the same and rather just changes course at a really
slow rate relative to the observer. if we were as small and fast as photons,
then quantum fluctuations would be slow-enough for empirical research.
imagination, otherwise known as spatial reasoning [in math], always has
a physical basis and precedent, since memory retrieval and any form of
ideation has to logically follow sense-perception -- that is to say, it doesn't
take an 'artist' to be 'imaginative' as sense-perception suggests, but it
rather takes one to be 'creatively- and expressively-imaginative' in art
and higher learning.
someone has previously suggested that 'aesthetic value' is relative, which
is correct, but, since any standard for beauty is cultural at the very least,
then there has to be a cultural and arbitrary consensus on what should
be 'poetic' in this era. or, should we just leave the avant-garde to their
own devices when we see any?
*...which then makes every seeming observable 'pattern' into an arbitrary absolute...*
hi fract, nice to bump into you, great title...
nice blah-blah zoem
hope you're sound and well. :)
*...nothing stays the same and something may rather just change course at a really slow rate relative to the observer...*
thanks, listen. good to hear from you again. how's your gigs at the gym going?
softyetharsh, thank you again. every commenter here deserves thanking rather
than spanking, hehe.
ey there, jen! i'm swell but not swollen, as always. hope you are, too. so good to hear from you again.
translation is well and good, but a person necessarily changes while reacting to stimuli. and, not all bodily sensations and/or operations are sensible or subtle. the imbalance you are suggesting is but a state of agitation which warrants 'venting out' in poetry. otherwise, a poet is not that agitated-/disturbed-/stimulated-enough to even start pushing back.
to say that anything can keep its integrity unchanged and undergo translation at the same time is to say that there is indeed a vacuum and/or nothingness in space -- it is an ignorance of the concept of scale, infinity, relativity, etc, which far from exempt poets. there's no actual judgment in sense because sense-perception proceeds of its own accord. a person's 'conscious' gesture of controlling what kind and amount of information we react to and hoard is the illusion of 'judgment' in action. we always react to both subtle and obvious signals/stimuli even when we appear to be in a state of stupor.
in poetry, you will have to deal with intent, as it is the platform upon which the poet operates.
*...of information he reacts to...*
translation is a reaction to a push/pull/shove, and all matter transitions every single moment. it's all about particles/vectors in space without gaps in between them. a mere touch or 'stare' from one [emotion/mental/physical] vector changes the nature of another. and, the process doesn't stop there -- it continues and is proliferated in every direction till it comes back to where the [com]motion 'started' to complete the cycle and do it again for the umpteenth time.
ephemeral sensations are always visually-oriented because 'imagination' is dependent on the sense of sight for the most part, and a person has to be exposed to certain concepts and make associations of them according to how they operate or look or behave or feel, etc, [in actual experience]. 'moth to the flame' is a rudimentary example by which a reader can make associations and probably intuit or feel the meaning of 'attraction' or 'passion' or 'love'. as always, there's more to poetry reading and appreciation than just banking on personal experiences for a reader to relate to a poem. so, the intent/motive of the poet to 'conceal' by virtue of verbose figurativeness and the employment of non-ordinary concepts will necessarily alienate readers from, rather than entice into, a better understanding of the piece.
for a more ephemeral work by yours truly, please refer to this:
your father had quite something to say about that right there.
just close the gap in the link to make it work.
no emotional spanking? haha. ooops! i can be loud and only for once. oh no, this can be reminiscing. this is not 2008 or those times.
what's in 2008, anyway? as i've noticed, 'pain' is the most potent
ingredient in the creation of beautiful pieces of art, though this one
is rather hurting from the realization of the 'obvious', and it is not
something one sees at first glance.
thanks for the comeback.
blah blah geekowackoserene. .blooh- blooh bluk
funny, i like.