It is SO ODD to read old posts, most of all old poems and the ramblings I have around them. Poems are tricky things. They're obviously obvious to myself, which means that it's impossible to imagine what they look like to someone who isn't inside my head, and somehow right now I relate that to what they talked about in the Portal 2 commentary; that puzzles have to be dumbed down for people to understand. If nobody understands my poems, then what would be their point? On the other hand, how much can I "dumb them down" without losing their meaning? Should I do that at all, seeing as poems should be "pure" or "raw" in contrast to prose or story form, or that's been my impression anyway. They are attempts at communicating, after all.
In any case, because of cat, when I get my random inspirations of wanting to sing (happens a lot) I've improvised melodies to a poem I made a long time ago that I love a lot and that works well to improvise simple tunes to. My roomie has expressed... I'm not sure what, puzzlement? at what this text is, so now that I've found my original (because I'd forgotten a verse) I'm going to post it here.
!
Have you ever seen a thing
as beautiful, as amazing,
as feline missus over there
and how she carries her bling-bling?
Every hair in proper place,
no sign of make-up on her face,
nor or knife or needle are
on her body any trace.
See how gracious her behind;
such a step is hard to find,
and this one mister over here,
she has already blown his mind.
Mister takes his only chance
and asks her politely to dance,
and there they go in correct waltz
though surely he would wish to prance!
Such a lady, is she not?
It takes him all night long to spot
a way in through her defense
as solid as the Camelot!
Though first saying firmly no,
treating him almost as foe,
no more a lady is she now
than to tell him "let us go!".
But do not think her easy prey;
more a hunter I would say.
And it will be up to her call
if there'll be kittens here in May!
!
The ripples of time in stone
2 months ago
4 comments:
The way I view poetry, it's a very intimate thing. The poet and the reader sort of "melt together" somehow.
I think a little bit of a person is in what they write. After all, the mind is just information, and when you write something, well, that's also just information. So when your words are in my head, that means a part of you is now inside my mind.
Does that make sense?
Cute poem.^^ It reminded me of the dance scene in ff8. Not sure why... maybe because of your previous post?
I like the poem, it was neat.
@Rik: How does that view make the poem more intimate than this text? This is my information in your head, is it not?
Basically because poetry tends to be about deep, profound things. If you tell me "Please buy milk", then that's not a very big, or very unique part of you that enters my mind.
Granted, you can just say something profound and deep without making it intentionally be a poem... but if you say something profound and deep that tells me a lot about you as a person, I'd call that a poetic expression. So.
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