Reappraising The Dead (a journal entry)

FinsburyParkCarrots

Projected on his soul’s cross section (diaphanous)
they’d be monochrome, contending for crude focus
and spoiling outward circlings, red green complements
to axes bold loud purple, synesthetic in sharp ninth blue.

But since they’re words, hypertextual (tendentious)
they’ll be colourful, enriching our expanding focus
and competing with circular arguments, red header complements
to tabloid headlines, green-grasping tales of a basement death.

Words, opinions, re-imaginings of nothing
echo the first lies planned in prejudiced focus
about a man murdered, left eight hours with the compliments
of strrangers about his wine-drowned ears.

Ms. Haiku

It's rare that I look foward to rereading a poem. However, I knew that with each reading your poem would unfold, and unfold. Pretty cool

FinsburyParkCarrots

I just wrote that one. I hope there's enough in there to make a person re-read it a few times!


Thanks, Ms Haiku!

FinsburyParkCarrots

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AJKnDtRf3Vs&mode=related&search=

chadwick

Hello Mr. twist it around.
Nice stuff.
I will have to re-read this just like you hoped.
I have a couple dictionaries and a thesaurus near by i am sure.

(A weak centeral nervous system, cerebral implosion of matter,
gray/white fluids melt down my candle-head).

DopeBeastie

oh quite clever, fins...
i think it's my favorite from you

many many applausals and laughs to self
good fucking poem, eh?


holla

gue_barium

I may cry later when I re-read it.

Somber, inventive, hopelessly helpless, untrue. beautiful.

gue_barium

gue_barium wrote:

I may cry later when I re-read it.

Somber, inventive, hopelessly helpless, untrue. beautiful.

I don't mean any of this in the iconic sense.

very good stuff, my man.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Thanks!

I'm not a conspiracy theorist for the sake of it, but I do think that there's something odd about someone drowning in "masses" of red wine, when their autopsy shows their blood alcohol to be only 20mg over the legal driving limit. People who drown often choke on their vomit: who forced the wine down his throat, I'd like to know.

There's been so much rubbish perpetuated, to obfuscate the findings of the inquest (which oddly, in spite of the evidence, went with an odd finding of "inhalation of vomit due to barbituate intoxication" although drowning by red wine and gastic fluid surely took precedence over the presence of Vesperax in the system as cause of death). The tabloids when Jimi died; Monika Danneman's ever-changing versions of events; popular discourses continuing the lie that Hendrix - though an occasional heroin user - was an addict: all these strings of words don't colour but rather blot our understanding of the man and how he died.

The irony of using words to criticise words isn't lost on me, of course.

FinsburyParkCarrots

A typo in there: I meant "gastric".

justam

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

Thanks!

I'm not a conspiracy theorist for the sake of it, but I do think that there's something odd about someone drowning in "masses" of red wine, when their autopsy shows their blood alcohol to be only 20mg over the legal driving limit. People who drown often choke on their vomit: who forced the wine down his throat, I'd like to know.

There's been so much rubbish perpetuated, to obfuscate the findings of the inquest (which oddly, in spite of the evidence, went with an odd finding of "inhalation of vomit due to barbituate intoxication" although drowning by red wine and gastic fluid surely took precedence over the presence of Vesperax in the system as cause of death). The tabloids when Jimi died; Monika Danneman's ever-changing versions of events; popular discourses continuing the lie that Hendrix - though an occasional heroin user - was an addict: all these strings of words don't colour but rather blot our understanding of the man and how he died.

The irony of using words to criticise words isn't lost on me, of course.

I like it when you explain your poems because I need the help to understand them.

FinsburyParkCarrots

I don't usually like to, though. It often tries to enforce interpretative closure, where freedom of interpretation empowers the reader.

justam

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

I don't usually like to, though. It often tries to enforce interpretative closure, where freedom of interpretation empowers the reader.

Yes, but we're lucky we can ask you and you kindly drop a few hints anyway.

DopeBeastie

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

I don't usually like to, though. It often tries to enforce interpretative closure, where freedom of interpretation empowers the reader.

lol... I thought this was an accute vision of poem on poet on subject. I thought, words coloring this particular soul (the nameless subject of a poet's work, at first read) would've been plain old black and white... but because of their very nature and the nature of {some jagoff} writers), this soul was painted colorful when he was actually not (no offense, Sir Hendrix )... and the soul/subject died (or lost his colorless identity or reality) in the reimagings... the lies... in the 'glorified version of the pellet gun' (if you'll allow ) the poet gets off on carrying around


make sense?


I really loved this poem because of the depth it struck with me. It reminds me that simpler imagings are what I need to work on in poetry. You and I spoke about the best writings being about very real things, and through my own self-analysis, I've decided that I want to write about simpler things in order to strike deeper feelings.

Like WCW

This is just to say
that I have eaten the plums
that were in the icebox
and that you were probably
saving for breakfast.
Forgive me.
They were delicious.
So sweet... so cold...


I still love the work... and I have an attachment disorder, so I won't be hard for me to keep my take on it.

I'll say it again...

NICE!!!

Outshyned

Reminds me of the lyrics to the song "Bold as Love" that Jimi did..
Kewl song. Intense poem fins..

I couldn't find if Jimi actually wrote these lyrics.......
I feel like it's some homage to post those lyrics

Jimi Hendrix - Bold As Love Lyrics

Anger, he smiles,
towering in shiny metallic purple armour
Queen Jealousy, envy waits behind him
Her fiery green gown sneers at the grassy ground

Blue are the life-giving waters taken for granted,
They quietly understand
Once happy turquoise armies lay opposite ready,
But wonder why the fight is on
But they're all bold as love, yeah, they're all bold as love
Yeah, they're all bold as love
Just ask the axis

My red is so confident that he flashes trophies of war,
and ribbons of euphoria
Orange is young, full of daring,
But very unsteady for the first go round
My yellow in this case is not so mellow
In fact I'm trying to say it's frigthened like me
And all these emotions of mine keep holding me from, eh,
Giving my life to a rainbow like you
But, I'm eh , yeah, I'm bold as love
Yeah, yeah
Well I'm bold, bold as love (hear me talking, girl)
I'm bold as love
Just ask the axis (he knows everything)
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah!

FinsburyParkCarrots

Indeed, Jimi did write those words, and yes, I was alluding to them in my poem.


Thanks, Outshyned.

Ian M

This is heavy.

The subsequent pages in the journal must've been impressed, no?

I like the word 'synesthetic' - may steal it.

It's a shame about the whole explanation necessity. This is something Neil Y mentioned in his Greendale live ad-lib story-fillers: people just didn't have the time to look closely at Earl Green's psychedelic paintings to see all the stories he's suffused them with (Suffused. Is that the right word?). It's a tragic attitude toward art, when you think about it. Was it always this way for the mass of people, or is this especially a syndrome of shrink-wrapped & senseless modern life?

Good ol' Jimi. I pulled off a version of 'Wind Cries Mary' tonight for the first time, but only about 2 people were listening cos the rest were outside the pub, smoking in the rain!

So it goes.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Cool. Hope to see/hear you play, sometime.

Ian M

I've been meaning to put some recordings up on my blog for a while now.

Will give notice over here when I figure out how (this computer is from the stone age).

depopulationINC

FinsburyParkCarrots wrote:

Projected on his soul’s cross section (diaphanous)
they’d be monochrome, contending for crude focus
and spoiling outward circlings, red green complements
to axes bold loud purple, synesthetic in sharp ninth blue.

But since they’re words, hypertextual (tendentious)
they’ll be colourful, enriching our expanding focus
and competing with circular arguments, red header complements
to tabloid headlines, green-grasping tales of a basement death.

Words, opinions, re-imaginings of nothing
echo the first lies planned in prejudiced focus
about a man murdered, left eight hours with the compliments
of strrangers about his wine-drowned ears.

nice

FinsburyParkCarrots

Thanks, depop. I miss reading your stuff. I wouldn't comment too much, in case I got in the way of the creative flow.