Something to ponder on as you wander on

Some liars are born that way, some are self-made; but the really great ones are elected to Congress…

Monday, August 4, 2008

ARTSY FARTSY POO part 2.....

OK,, for all those that would like to know whats happening
in the POEM'ES,, and I'm sure there must be 1/2 of
somebody out there that's the explaination as
provided to me by the Faerie princess.......

I stand alone at the foot
Of my father's grave,
Trembling to tell:
The door to the granary is open,
And someone lost the bucket
To the well.

By William Kloefhorn (Nebraska state poet)
retyped exactly as I found it.....

Posted in column 'American Life in Poetry" (1-27-08)
Ted Kooser (US poet lauerate 2004-2006)

A man stands alone at the foot of a grave - this lets us know that he is lost and in deep need of both spiritual and moral support; he has lost his life's compass and is so desperate he has come to consult the dead or beg their forgiveness

The grave is his father's and he is trembling - No man ever feels he can fill his father's shoes and he trembles because he fears his father's wrath when he tells him just how bad things have gotten with his father's farm that he has inherited

The door to the granary is open - A granary is filled through the top and for the door to be opened means that the grain is spilling out and being lost (once opened in this situation, the door cannot be shut again against the pressure of the grain), or else the door is open because there is no grain to put in the granary (when all the grain has been used up, the door is used to access the granary for cleaning in preparation for the next load of grain).

Sir - An extremely formal sign of respect, which means he is really in a supplicant role, not an equal or a buddy with his father

And someone lost the bucket to the well - So not even the means to obtain water is available. He has really let things get effed up and he is running his father's farm it into the ground.

As dark and tragic as the imagery is, the parsing and rhyming scheme of the piece gives it a lightness and flippancy that is at war with the heaviness of the imagery. This is what the "artsy crowd" would like about this piece. I think it's just so-so okay.

now my POEM'E.......

I stand on a chair
Gaze down
Extent full of darkness
Tang of spaghetti
A pallid bell jar for me
Twisting revolving left and right

Down onto covered earth
Past a scenery for three
Oh if only I could identify
Click,, I am God

A guy is standing on a chair.......thats obvious
He looks around
The area (room) he is in is dark
The room smells of must be time to eat
Pallid means whitish,, bell jar refers to the shape,, he is given or has
a whitish bell jar object in his hands.....a lightbulb
He turns and twists it into the light socket
He gets down from the chair
Scenery for three refers to the kichen/dinning room table set for 3 people
He still can't identify anything because its still dark...the light is off
Click....he turns the light on and like God saying "let there be light"
he illuminates the world and thus is like a GOD.........

Artsy fartsy enough for you???...........

Next weeks lesson will be how to speak Chinese to penguins…..


Drowsey Monkey said...

So, Prof GT ... that was a wonderful explanation. But my question is ... why don't poets just say what they mean? So complicated. Gee...who's that sound like? HA!

I did appreciate the lesson tho, cause I thought he really hated his father, LOL.

Drowsey Monkey said...

Oh, and does gt281 mean got 2 ate 1? My sis was asking about the guy who did the send in the clam poem, and referred to you as the guy with the name got 2 ate 1. LOL ...

gt281 said...

to Drowsey:
You'll note that I had to consult with an expert (FaerieKat)...
Cuz to me it really was stinky poo...I guess thats way I'm not published,, my crayon scribblings
are a little too clear...

gt281 said...

to Drowsey:
Is your sister an addict for Baileys too?...Didn't we go thru this the other night?...Here let me refresh your memory....

I live in a small town with a population of about,, of about,,
Ahhh,, its small…So small it has no stop lights…There’s a bank,, post office and a Kum & Go on main street…It’s about 30 miles down the freeway from a bigger town,, which is where I work…5 stinking days a week…I was born in a log cabin and did my homework my candle light,, I would walk 12 miles barefoot to school when I was young,,...............

Drowsey Monkey said...

I'll take that as a yes.

gt281 said...

to Drowsey:
you can take it anyway you want...
but leave my liquor alone...

Marvin the Martian said...

That is the MOST BEAUTIFUL POETRY I have ever read outside the hallowed pages of the New York Times!!!!

gt281 said...

to Marvin:
your an alien,, what would you know...shouldn't you be creating zombies in your secret basement lab,, getting your army ready to conquer the world.....

oh happy egg hatch day...ohhh that hurt.....