poetry critical

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?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  13 May 17 5:07AM Thread Closed

poetry – ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿ – metaphor clusters meant to excite neurons into firing synaptic connections that flower into epiphanies ...

(╭☞ ͡° ͜つ ͡°)╭☞ I imagine that time sculpted is as a picture, a moment captured in these pixel shadows parsed into white, as words in black, lettered into these forum boxes, in binary, then ASCII, sculpted bit by bit 'til they reach your eye where the language of light begins a show 'n tell inside your head, where neuronal-fires suddenly flower into the intelligence of design, a shadow-recognition, the gleaning-of-meaning, we call sublime consciousness -- and as a result of all these reflections, this feels chaotic yet familiar, which is the way of casting out our neural-net of awe, gleaming again as wonder in our eye from the beauty that we saw...

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  cadmium  13 May 17 7:15PM Thread Closed

don't over look that the mind is a lesson to the body -- the body admires the mind, and when the mind does clever things the body is delighted. if you think not, think where you'd be if it weren't for the mind showing what's lovable in the world. the body needs to dance, to move around in runnelled melodies.

on the other hand ( we some of us have two ) the mind is a slogging repertoire of habit, going over and over the amount and time that's needed for need. 'repetition' is the key, alch. why does one thing have to come from another. that's rhythm, pattern. exactly what the body does best and what it throws back to the mind in this never-ending game of catch-up we call 'time'.

the fugue is between the body and mind. fugelets are twitches in the thigh and replicas in the brain -- linear and self defining and boring without a world to play out in. poetry is that world.

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  14 May 17 5:49AM Thread Closed

umm, nicely writ cad -- mostly metaphor is a trick of the light to get these reflections just right, so, you-know, it's glinting in your eye as you release into the flower of meaning with a sigh; like looking at the mesmerizing-sea glimmering-many-Suns, so sympathetically tessellations resonate in your oceanic-brain, as your synapses shiver sentient luminescence again and again ...

Loves leaky language is pulsing at its red-ochre core, beat-beat -- longing to belong with an ancient-ache -- beat-beat

so enthralled with all the rush,
                                   (at the speed of life)
                 rolling with our body of cycles to
                        cross the thresh-hold of push and shove

while our Muse steps lightly, so demure -- she glances to see if you were too -- and when she catches that glint in your eye, she dances a whirl'd for you ...

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  14 May 17 3:33PM Thread Closed

I agree that Poets are epiphanators, ecstatics dancing a whirl'd-view, word-dreaming in a merCurious beat-of-the-feet, as we are in wonder to do...

ok,ok, so I went 'round a crystal-clear Sunny-day of the year, here in Moody-ville, with my body-of-cycles BionX-biKe -- this time I did 18klicks and a bit ... the first 4 up-hill to Mountain vistas then slip-streamed down passed glittering Seas, with birds twittering in the rusty-red trees, whose leaves crackled on the roll of my wheel, oh how good it made me feel ...

sometimes a rhythm captures the words, like when I ride my bike and feel my heart-beat and the fullness of my legs spinning wheels and the wind caresses my face while making white-noise like crashing waves on a beach inside of my ears, over and over, while tides are changing with the gears - or when an image presents itself, unfolding into sounds, then the sounds arrange themselves into fractal cadences, in the dance of assonance and the sonics of post-modern imagism, imbued with the romance of irony, swelling into an urge-to-merge from these songs inside of me...

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  cadmium  14 May 17 7:42PM Thread Closed

i think a poet actually sings from the body. the world gives and forces images on us, but the body doesn't understand these sensations, only feels them. a magpie, however, steals pretty things by chatting at them until they break off and float away. that's the charm of magpies and dangerous eyes. a hunter becomes poetic when the prey is too hung up on flattery.

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  21 May 17 5:02AM Thread Closed

a Poet writes-hard with soft-eyes to swell from the cocoon of his words so they fly as moths to your flame - we don't light the fire, we lift up a mirror and show you the coals-glowing in your eyes ...

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  cadmium  21 May 17 5:30AM Thread Closed

you're describing the Ken doll marketed in the sixties, "dreamy guy with  poet eyes and Wall street day job . anatomically correct. goes perfectly with barbie real estate broker.  $15.95."

cocker spaniels make terriff poetry too. such sad eyes.

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  21 May 17 6:02PM Thread Closed

hahaha -- a Poet has anatomically correct parts while hosting many colourful psychological complexities -- which often translates into a spectrum of positions for their sexual anatomy -- while sHe may self-identify as any of the he-she possibilities they're often neutral and observant creatures inclined to deep forays into uncharted psychological waters -- they're often drowning in love 'cuz there's no way for them to float -- lost in the many reflections of the Sun glints on a roiling sea, they're beautiful-monstrous creatures just like you and me ...

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  cadmium  21 May 17 8:27PM Thread Closed

you need to use metaphor to create beauty. instead, you're saying things as though you were selling a car... always referencing something 'bootiful' and never making the association within an association that makes people stop and wonder. unless, maybe they're mall-rats and just saying stuff to keep from having to think.

re: ?¿ intertextual-fugues ?¿  AlchemiA  21 May 17 10:57PM Thread Closed

-dododo- take a walk on the wild side -- thus we arrive at the crux of this simper and whine: It is life and life itself — life lived for life itself — that is detested -- to paraphrase Emerson, this clutch of swoon artists whom insist that we must live life as a perpetual apology — and never as a full-throated song -- what is our seminal anthem of the outré and outrageous? -- what is our Walk on the Wild Side? -- this is how it goes, this is how it goes, you take off your cloths and then dance with the attendant awareness of the artist, and attendant to this present, you walk off the earth

nevertheless, “A real work of art destroys, in the consciousness of the receiver, the separation between himself and the artist.” -- Tolstoy

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