Sunday, June 25, 2006
absolutely NOTHING to do now, so i shall entertain myself with some boring old poetry. well if you have me on msn you'd have known that my personal message is (interestingly and maybe somewhat disturbingly):
no matter how much you dao me on MSN,
i'll still love you to the very end
(-insert a random stab at a famous poet, or compliments to myself-)
well that has to be the best shot i've ever had at poetry.
well what is poetry anyway? ever since secondary school i've had a whole new point of view on it. gone were the days where i used to sit down, pull out a book on poetry (by some random children's author, no less) and read about how a circle met a triangle. random yes, but at least it rhymed, and that was all i thought there was to poetry.
rhyming.
i included a few self-styled pieces in my primary school cap portfolio (yes the one merrill, jia hong, moose, gabriel and DAVID CRAWSHAW YUCK! went to), thinking that HEY maybe i could make it on the big stage one day.
then came secondary school. then came deep, inner meanings. then came imagery, the complication of language...the stuff that can be HIDDEN behind a wall of words that APPARENTLY mean something but when you write it down you find that it's total and utter RUBBISH! (the big fat zero and the hurting comments by a certain teacher about how you were able to make it past sec 1 with this kind of work stabs and tears at the piece of flesh you call your heart.)
now, i toil and pull my hair whenever i see a piece of work with the word 'poetry' in any part of its title. i groan and moan, proceed to analyse, attempt to dig my way through the outermost layer, and get a peek into what the author is really trying to say (or to put it simply, what the answer key states is the correct answer). yes i know my view may be somewhat warped and a little directed more towards the issue of marks and gpas but isnt that all that matters here in ri?
gpas, 4.0, samuel lim, paul tern, daniel chew...the list goes on (and maybe i should even have included a member of the human anatomy in it. hint: his name rhymes with scrotum). sometimes i doubt the actual intelligence of these people, whether it's just becuase they actually know all this stuff through reading, or whether it comes across naturally for them. i'm not trying to say that im smart, just posing the question: what would you do if you had a poem put it front of you?
would they go about the same process that i have chosen? will they take the same steps as i take? or will they follow in the footsteps of that guy at one itinery in the cap camp (whose name i have so nonchalently chosen to forget), and find a picture hidden in the poem's grammar?
poetry never fails to stun me. pour example, take a look at this poem by wordsworth:
DEAR native regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,
My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.
Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.
so this is a poem?
and what about this one:
“ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came.
“You mean – like plain or milk chocolate?”
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. “West African sepia” – and as afterthought,
“Down in my passport.” [...]
(From: Soyinka, Telephone Conversation)
O_O run-on lines now?? so what's the difference? just rhythm? just to speed up the reading? come on man you might as well just take one of the stories i've written and cut them up. or how about this?
why not i
type like this then? will
this make this
paragraph a poem
because i type and
present it like this?
-.- poetry is seriously complicated.
and dun tell me that's the beaty of poetry. ive had enough of peotry thankyewverymuch. even though i know that there will be more to come.
gawd is secondary poetry taking my love for writing away from me. DAMN oedipus. DAMN king lear. DAMN shakespeare. couldn't he have spoken more NORMALLY? instead of having us...WRING our hands and CRUMPLE up SHEET AFTER SHEET of FOOLSCAP PAPER TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HE MEANS WHEN HE SAYS
SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A SUMMER'S DAY?????poetry...it is the bane of my existence.
- wah-slau-eh!
Sunday, June 25, 2006
absolutely NOTHING to do now, so i shall entertain myself with some boring old poetry. well if you have me on msn you'd have known that my personal message is (interestingly and maybe somewhat disturbingly):
no matter how much you dao me on MSN,
i'll still love you to the very end
(-insert a random stab at a famous poet, or compliments to myself-)
well that has to be the best shot i've ever had at poetry.
well what is poetry anyway? ever since secondary school i've had a whole new point of view on it. gone were the days where i used to sit down, pull out a book on poetry (by some random children's author, no less) and read about how a circle met a triangle. random yes, but at least it rhymed, and that was all i thought there was to poetry.
rhyming.
i included a few self-styled pieces in my primary school cap portfolio (yes the one merrill, jia hong, moose, gabriel and DAVID CRAWSHAW YUCK! went to), thinking that HEY maybe i could make it on the big stage one day.
then came secondary school. then came deep, inner meanings. then came imagery, the complication of language...the stuff that can be HIDDEN behind a wall of words that APPARENTLY mean something but when you write it down you find that it's total and utter RUBBISH! (the big fat zero and the hurting comments by a certain teacher about how you were able to make it past sec 1 with this kind of work stabs and tears at the piece of flesh you call your heart.)
now, i toil and pull my hair whenever i see a piece of work with the word 'poetry' in any part of its title. i groan and moan, proceed to analyse, attempt to dig my way through the outermost layer, and get a peek into what the author is really trying to say (or to put it simply, what the answer key states is the correct answer). yes i know my view may be somewhat warped and a little directed more towards the issue of marks and gpas but isnt that all that matters here in ri?
gpas, 4.0, samuel lim, paul tern, daniel chew...the list goes on (and maybe i should even have included a member of the human anatomy in it. hint: his name rhymes with scrotum). sometimes i doubt the actual intelligence of these people, whether it's just becuase they actually know all this stuff through reading, or whether it comes across naturally for them. i'm not trying to say that im smart, just posing the question: what would you do if you had a poem put it front of you?
would they go about the same process that i have chosen? will they take the same steps as i take? or will they follow in the footsteps of that guy at one itinery in the cap camp (whose name i have so nonchalently chosen to forget), and find a picture hidden in the poem's grammar?
poetry never fails to stun me. pour example, take a look at this poem by wordsworth:
DEAR native regions, I foretell,
From what I feel at this farewell,
That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend,
And whensoe'er my course shall end,
If in that hour a single tie
Survive of local sympathy,
My soul will cast the backward view,
The longing look alone on you.
Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.
so this is a poem?
and what about this one:
“ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?” Revelation came.
“You mean – like plain or milk chocolate?”
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. “West African sepia” – and as afterthought,
“Down in my passport.” [...]
(From: Soyinka, Telephone Conversation)
O_O run-on lines now?? so what's the difference? just rhythm? just to speed up the reading? come on man you might as well just take one of the stories i've written and cut them up. or how about this?
why not i
type like this then? will
this make this
paragraph a poem
because i type and
present it like this?
-.- poetry is seriously complicated.
and dun tell me that's the beaty of poetry. ive had enough of peotry thankyewverymuch. even though i know that there will be more to come.
gawd is secondary poetry taking my love for writing away from me. DAMN oedipus. DAMN king lear. DAMN shakespeare. couldn't he have spoken more NORMALLY? instead of having us...WRING our hands and CRUMPLE up SHEET AFTER SHEET of FOOLSCAP PAPER TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HE MEANS WHEN HE SAYS
SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A SUMMER'S DAY?????poetry...it is the bane of my existence.
- wah-slau-eh!
spent $135 on dc classics. am i pro or what?
