hitler didn't lay a goddamn finger on anybody...
matt
and relaxing...we can start murdering people from
the comfort of our living room...we can switch on
the entertainment console and disappear into
a gulag state.
hitler didn't lay a goddamn finger on anybody...he
thought it! it was a culmination of black & white
dogma made dogman on the masses. the wolf
knows what to do with the baby in the carriage
every time.
so, go back to your investigative research and
find out for yourself. the GENIUS is that the
greatest act of criminal insanity to every take
place in human history had no blood on its hands.
it had blood in its mind.
matt
Dale Houstman
That's such a poetic revelation: that kings, queens, emperors, and
fuhrers don't actually kill anyone themselves, but hire others to do it!
Any other obvious epiphanies to show us, all decked out in pretentious
prose?
dmh
automattick
>
> - Show quoted text -
no...just that one.
hey, dale...i'm having trouble with this one...
can you please explain...i fully admit i don't
get it.
The Girl from Tourism 3
____________________
The girl from Tourism 3
stopped on her way to the sea
like a cuttlefish (or cuttleflea)
stopped on her way to the sea.
In cheerless disarray-
like other cuttlefish (or cuttleflea)
stopped on their way to the sea
like all other girls from Tourism 3.
Relentlessly corporate cuttlefish!
Painfully inebriate little cuttlefish!
Sordid but cleanly shaven cuttlefish (or cuttleflea)!
Cuttlefish of our finest hours yet to be!
Her cheerless cuttlefish (or cuttleflea)
went out at night from Tourism 3
and stopped on her way to the sea, on her way to the sea
like the girl from Tourism 3.
Her relentlessly corporate shade which has to leave
like ecstasy's little cuttlefish (or little cuttlefleas)
like all the other girls from Tourism 3.
Sordid but cleanly shaven cuttlefish (or cuttleflea)!
Cuttlefish of our finest hour yet to be!
Cuddlesome cuttlefish, cuttlefish of our enemy
(or the enemy's curdling cuttleflea)
stopped on her way to the sea
like the girl from Tourism 3
stopped on her way to the sea
like the corporate cuttelfish (or inebriate cuttleflea).
_____________
dmh
Dale Houstman
dmh
Dale Houstman
(again) about your "mere questioning" - I suspect you think that because
my nonsense poem IS nonsense, that precludes me from noting that the
poem under discussion (which is overtly NOT nonsense) is badly written.
I only say this because I've seen this ploy (from renowned
microcephalics) again and again and again. But an adequate critical
statement will note the dissonance/distance between the poem's intention
and its presentation, not between the poem's presentation and whatever
vague and uneducated idea of poetry you might entertain. My poem is
overtly nonsense, so it follows that it must be analyzed as a nonsense
poem. In other words, you cannot legitimately critique "Jabberwocky" by
saying that it doesn't make literal sense, or that too many words appear
to be misspelled, or a "cowboy poem" by saying it does not present
clearly enough the cosmopolitan viewpoint. The poem immediately under
discourse on the other hand is clearly a realist concoction, an attempt
to present real-life experience in poetic form. As such, noting that its
lines are seemingly the result of illiteracy and a "bad ear" and that
the situation being painted is duller than the worst travel pamphlet is
a legitimate process.
Does that help?
dmh
automattick
>
> - Show quoted text -
sure...as a matter of fact, you're one of my favorite
nonsense writers online...that's not a joke.
here's one i really like by dale:
for Scott
The waiting muse-understudy of fame-serves us
each one runt cup of coffee. Brown gold
with a silver slick in the open cold.
I'm a topology nut: the cup's shape is as complex
as the poisons contained; but-
and you know it-I'm no scientist.
You figure it as the flower of Service,
a fleur-de-lis lacking suture and joint,
warm and waiting to be milked
into the coffee itself waiting. A hot cooling O,
aromatic but always less intriguing
than your hand's peppery bloom in water.
Have you read that we're being murdered by the pound
& purposely? No doubt;-like this street's habituals,
faces held like dirty cards-we're eminently replaceable,
interchangeable exactly where we are seated
on folding chairs on a curb the last day in December
picking the last Bride's-Tears. So-I'll agree;
these vessels are the flowers, their steam a stem,
and their roots overhead, those clouds. All the rest?
Money steeping in labor. O Lord.
All this is improvised; I draw up the liquid anti-lotus,
it continuous edge, its blanket exhaled,
exhausted corolla, catalpa, column, counterpane-
a cozy Milky Way above.
I get a puddle of hoarfrost for my trouble
in coming halfway down to you. Who pays?
_____
dmh
George Dance
> By the way - since I fully understand that you're most likely insincere
> (again) about your "mere questioning" - I suspect you think that because
> my nonsense poem IS nonsense, that precludes me from noting that the
> poem under discussion (which is overtly NOT nonsense) is badly written.
I don't think automattick even knew he'd written a "poem" here until
you told him that.
> I only say this because I've seen this ploy (from renowned
> microcephalics) again and again and again.
I hope you meant 'microcephalic' as a metaphor; but either way it's
still a pretty disgusting comment.
snip
automattick
of course...look at the big bad matt and his
big bad behavior...asking for an honest question
and getting slammed by the master slammer
dale m. houstman. and then, because matt's
such a big bad man, he has to post a praise
post of mr. houstman asking the group to recognize
a "usenet legend..." followed by a houstman poem.
with bad people like that around, what's a person
to do..?
i feel a flutter coming on...is it my hard heart..? tisk...puff...
matt
Dale Houstman
You've got your answer: try and read it without thinking how you might
turn it to an "advantage" not worth having, as per usual. But if that is
impossible for you, accept my condolences on your cognitive ineptitude.
dmh
automattick
i'll say it right now like it is..
the problem is that you're a boy
trapped in a mans body...and i'm
teaching you how to be a real man.
any questions?
matt
George Dance
"Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
the earliest stuff --
http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
and continuing to his latest. It doesn't communicate emotions, nor
does it communicate ideas. It doesn't communicate anything. In that
sense it's not even literature: it could be called writing exercises,
or practice, if there was any actual literature that it had served as
practice for. On its own, it's just the "poet" playing around and
having fun with himself; the literary equivalent of masturbation.
Case in point.
matt
> On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> <snip>
>
> > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> > the earliest stuff --
> > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
>
> > and continuing to his latest. It doesn't communicate emotions, nor
>
> Any emotions are in the poet and the reader. Poetry (and art in
> general) is a bridge.
>
> > does it communicate ideas. It doesn't communicate anything. In that
> > sense it's not even literature: it could be called writing exercises,
> > or practice, if there was any actual literature that it had served as
> > practice for. On its own, it's just the "poet" playing around and
> > having fun with himself; the literary equivalent of masturbation.
>
> read, your opinion isn’t valuable.
>
>
i disagree...george's opinion is just as valuable if not
more than many who come here...he offers
insightful commentary on posted poems and
is tolerant of his peers' learning curves...
further, he doesn't feel the need to show off
his rich vocabulary every five minutes with
the explicate intention of intimidating
his online peers...he was a columnist by
trade most of his life and can offer
a lot of very useful insight to poets
and writers alike...
your typical reactionary posts do nothing
to take away from george's invaluable
contribution to this group...why you choose
to take sides with the assholes and
flamers can only mean one thing...
YOUR difficulty in processing and
explicating what you read means
YOUR opinion isn't valuable. and I'M
usually the type of poster that tries
very hard to see the good in people...
why, just look up this thread at how
much encouragement i show my
arch cyber enemy...dale m. houstman...
isn't it interesting...no need to ask
for proof now...unless, of course, YOU
can't read..!
matt
G&tSP
> On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> <snip>
>
> > the earliest stuff --
> > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
>
The host site claims to be "temporarily unavailable" (which does not
mean the link is "dead," BTW):
http://www.magneticfields.org/
However, if you want to read more of your online friend's nonsense,
here's a link to a representative poem from that book, one both he and
your other online friend Karla have praised in the past:
~Pot Holder Day~ by Dale M. Houstman
http://groups.google.com/group/alt.arts.poetry.comments/msg/d4f513c7bcc0d704?hl=en
> > and continuing to his latest. It doesn't communicate emotions, nor
>
> Poetry doesn’t communicate emotions. It has none to communicate.
> Any emotions are in the poet and the reader.
And you don't think the poet can communicate his emotions to the
reader via the poetry?
You're correct in the case of "Pot Holder Day" (and perhaps your own
poetry), but I don't see that's a general rule.
> Poetry (and art in
> general) is a bridge.
>
A "bridge" for what, pray tell, if not communication
> > does it communicate ideas.
By the same token, then, you'd say that writing cannot be used to
communicate ideas either, because it doesn't have ideas to
communicate?
> > It doesn't communicate anything. In that
> > sense it's not even literature: it could be called writing exercises,
> > or practice, if there was any actual literature that it had served as
> > practice for. On its own, it's just the "poet" playing around and
> > having fun with himself; the literary equivalent of masturbation.
>
> Since you have lots of difficulty processing and explicating what you
> read
Oh, yes; that's based on your idea that "chasing away" means something
different from "chasing away:" I'd like to hear you explicate that
difference, and then we can see how well I can process it.
> , your opinion isn’t valuable.
>
If Matt believed that, I'm sure he'd tell me so himself.
Will Dockery
> On Sep 7, 9:59 pm, Cythera <cyth...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
> > On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > <snip>
>
> > > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> > > the earliest stuff --
> > > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> > You give us a dead link? Why?
>
> The host site claims to be "temporarily unavailable" (which does not
> mean the link is "dead," BTW):http://www.magneticfields.org/
You might try the "Wayback Machine" at Internet Archive:
http://www.internetarchive.org
I think it is, or something similar.
> However, if you want to read more of your online friend's nonsense,
> here's a link to a representative poem from that book, one both he and
> your other online friend Karla have praised in the past:
>
> ~Pot Holder Day~ by Dale M. Houstmanhttp://groups.google.com/group/alt.arts.poetry.comments/msg/d4f513c7b...
--
She Sleeps Tight (the video):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uGY157cpiU
G&tSP
> On Sep 8, 9:35 am, "G&tSP" <gand...@yahoo.ca> wrote:> On Sep 7, 9:59 pm, Cythera <cyth...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
> > > On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > > <snip>
>
> > > > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> > > > the earliest stuff --
> > > > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> > > You give us a dead link? Why?
>
> > mean the link is "dead," BTW):
>
> You didn’t give us the link to the host site.
Dishonest asshole. I certainly did give you the link to the host site;
which you snipped and now are lyring about.
> You gave us:
>
> The webpage cannot be found
> HTTP 404
>
If you'd tried the second link I sent you, rather than just snipping
it and lying about my not posting it, then you would have received the
message:
Sorry, this site is temporarily unavailable.
Please check back later.
Just like I did.
> Why?
I just explained that; you chose to lie about my explanation.
Will Dockery
>
> > > On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > > <snip>
>
> > > > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> > > > the earliest stuff --
> > > > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> > > You give us a dead link? Why?
>
> > The host site claims to be "temporarily unavailable"
>
>
> The webpage cannot be found
> HTTP 404
>
When I return later with more time I'll run it through the internet
archive "wayback machine", where the link is most likely stored... or
maybe one of you will check there. I posted the link earlier.
See y'all soon, duty calls.
--
"Under the Radar" by Will Dockery & Sam Singer:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEQDFMNcgLA
Will Dockery
> On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> <snip>
>
> > the earliest stuff --
> > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
Here's the page on Internet Archive:
http://web.archive.org/web/19990822130508/http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
And the history, and links to the history, of the page from Jan 01,
1996 - Mar 13, 2009
http://web.archive.org/web/*/http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
> > and continuing to his latest. It doesn't communicate emotions, nor
>
> Poetry doesn’t communicate emotions. It has none to communicate.
> Any emotions are in the poet and the reader. Poetry (and art in
> general) is a bridge.
>
> > does it communicate ideas. It doesn't communicate anything. In that
> > sense it's not even literature: it could be called writing exercises,
> > or practice, if there was any actual literature that it had served as
> > practice for. On its own, it's just the "poet" playing around and
> > having fun with himself; the literary equivalent of masturbation.
>
> Since you have lots of difficulty processing and explicating what you
> read, your opinion isn’t valuable.
--
"Silver Blazing Sun" written by Will Dockery & Brian Mallard,
performed by The Shadowville All-Stars:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ot-RTkMkQJo
Will Dockery
> On Sep 9, 1:10 am, Will Dockery wrote:
>> On Sep 7, 9:59 pm, Cythera <cyth...@my-deja.com> wrote:
> > > On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > > <snip>
>
> > > > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning
> > > > from
> > > > the earliest stuff --
> > > > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> > > You give us a dead link? Why?
>
> > Here's the page on Internet Archive:
>
>
> One characteristic of a poor writer is that he doesn�t check all his
> �factual data� before presenting them to an audience.
>
> You did the work George wouldn�t do.
Just happy to turn y'all on to the treasures of the Internet Archive... not
that it doesn't have problems, such as not being able to specifically search
for old stuff, you have to have a link to get to anything you want, and, of
course, it doesn't archive everything.
But still pretty good when you have a definite site, and "dead link", to try
to salvage.
George Dance
> On Sep 8, 6:34 pm, "G&tSP" <gand...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > On Sep 8, 9:08 pm, Cythera <cyth...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
> > > On Sep 8, 9:35 am, "G&tSP" <gand...@yahoo.ca> wrote:> On Sep 7, 9:59 pm, Cythera <cyth...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
> > > > > On Sep 7, 4:26 pm, George Dance <georgedanc...@yahoo.ca> wrote:
>
> > > > > <snip>
>
> > > > > > "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> > > > > > the earliest stuff --
> > > > > > http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> > > > > You give us a dead link? Why?
>
> > > > The host site claims to be "temporarily unavailable" <UNSNIP> (which does not
> > > > mean the link is "dead," BTW):
> > > >http://www.magneticfields.org/ </US>
>
> > > You didn’t give us the link to the host site.
>
which you snipped and now are lying about. </us>
>
> You’re a loon. You only gave it once I pointed out you gave us a dead
> link.
So you admit you lied when you said I "didn't give us the link to the
host site"? And that you tried to "prove" your lie by snipping the
link?
Will Dockery
>automattick <qoph...@gmail.com> wrote:
> > nonsense writers online...that's not a joke.
>
> "Nonsense" is a good term for all of Houstman's poetry, beginning from
> the earliest stuff --
> http://www.magneticfields.org/dmh/Alice/covpage.html
>
> and continuing to his latest. It doesn't communicate emotions, nor
> does it communicate ideas. It doesn't communicate anything. In that
> sense it's not even literature: it could be called writing exercises,
> or practice, if there was any actual literature that it had served as
> practice for. On its own, it's just the "poet" playing around and
> having fun with himself; the literary equivalent of masturbation.
Well, from the pretensions he works from, it's exactly what he
intends... he just doesn't bother with the fact that to do what he
does well, there needs to be something for the reader to carry away
from the nonsense, not just taking a piece of writing, cutting it up
and adding more gibberish to it.
Burroughs used the cut-up method, but he used the method to actually /
say something/, for example... it wasn't just random words scattered
on the page.
Still, I get the definite feeling that Houstman (or the poet he
borrowed from) /wants/ to "say something" here, but for whatever
reason he's too inhibited to just come out with it.
"Try to have your writing make sense." -Dennis M. Hammes, Litt. D.
George Dance
Did you forget to reply to this post, Cythera?
matt
>
> - Show quoted text -
i would prefer if you guys either started another header
or changed the subject...but to put in "no subject" when
the subject was initially a poem of mine is a bit frustrating.
no drama...just asking nicely to move it to a new thread.
matt
George Dance
> or changed the subject...but to put in "no subject" when
> the subject was initially a poem of mine is a bit frustrating.
>
> no drama...just asking nicely to move it to a new thread.
>
> matt
Sorry about that. What happened was: Cythera changed the subject
header to "George" -- I responded by changing it to "Cythera changes
the header" -- Cythera responded by snipping the header entirely --
and that's where things were left.
I've put in a header; though doubtless Cythera, if she decides to
reply, will want to change it yet again.
matt
>
> - Show quoted text -
haha-
that's all i was asking...i could care less about
what the subject header reads...i change 'em all
the time too...i was just asking the something was
put in there...i knew you weren't intentionally doing
it...that's why i suggested a new thread or header to "you guys."
this is fine, though...let the games continue.
matt
Will Dockery
> or changed the subject...but to put in "no subject" when
> the subject was initially a poem of mine is a bit frustrating.
>
> no drama...just asking nicely to move it to a new thread.
>
> matt
How about making it the ongoing Shakespeare Sonnet thread? Beats all
the fussing and fighting by a longshot, eh?
On Mon, Sep 14, 2009 at 8:06 AM, Shakespeare Sonnet-a-Day wrote:
Shakespeare Sonnet-a-Day
Sonnet #71
Posted:
LXXI.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
But let your love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock you with me after I am gone.
-Wm. Shakespeare
Will Dockery
Posted:
LXXII.
O, lest the world should task you to recite
What merit lived in me, that you should love
After my death, dear love, forget me quite,
For you in me can nothing worthy prove;
Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
To do more for me than mine own desert,
And hang more praise upon deceased I
Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
O, lest your true love may seem false in this,
That you for love speak well of me untrue,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
-Wm. Shakespeare
--
"Little Homeless Clown" (audio recording) by Dockery & Conley:
http://www.myspace.com/willdockery
Will Dockery
Shakespeare Sonnet-a-Day
Sonnet #77
Posted:
LXXVII.
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look, what thy memory can not contain
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain,
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.
Colonel Edmund J. Burke
news:c33f7828-1568-44ed...@e18g2000vbe.googlegroups.com...
> On Mon, Sep 28, 2009 at 8:39 AM, Shakespeare Sonnet-a-Day wrote:
>
> Shakespeare Sonnet-a-Day
>
> Sonnet #77
>
> Posted:
>
> LXXVII.
>
> Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;
> The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
> And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.
> Of mouthed glans will give thee memory;
> Thou by thy clit's shady stealth mayst know
> Time's thievish progress to eternity.
> Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
> To take a new acquaintance of thy dildo.
> These orifices, so oft as thou wilt look,
> Shall itcheth thee and much enrich thy dick.
>
> -Wm. Shakespeare
>"Little Homeless Clown"
Will Dockery
LXXX.
O, how I faint when I of you do write,
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,
To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame!
But since your worth, wide as the ocean is,
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,
My saucy bark inferior far to his
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;
Or being wreck'd, I am a worthless boat,
He of tall building and of goodly pride:
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,
The worst was this; my love was my decay.
-Wm. Shakespeare
--
Red Lipped Stranger by Will Dockery & The Shadowville All-Stars:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBhcN1WK144
Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sonnet #82
Posted:
LXXXII.
I grant thou wert not married to my Muse
And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
The dedicated words which writers use
Of their fair subject, blessing every book
Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue,
Finding thy worth a limit past my praise,
And therefore art enforced to seek anew
Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days
And do so, love; yet when they have devised
What strained touches rhetoric can lend,
Thou truly fair wert truly sympathized
In true plain words by thy true-telling friend;
And their gross painting might be better used
Where cheeks need blood; in thee it is abused.
Will Dockery
Sonnet #97
Posted:
XCVII.
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer's time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
--
"Red Lipped Stranger & other stories" by Will Dockery:
http://www.myspace.com/willdockery