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Ode to a Pimple-Lyric Spawned by Phalkon's Greasy Face. (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer Silly emotions have flooded my hormone filled head
so much that I now wish to be very very dead;
but my grip on the .36 is slipping due to my tears,
hampering my attempt to fill my cranium with lead--
so instead, I'll wail till blood comes out y'ears
in the form of a bad lyric you'll wish y'never read.
Up the ladder:
Not On Your Nelly
Down the ladder:
WANTED
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 4.714286
Posted: February 9, 2007 12:49 PM PST; Last modified: February 9, 2007 12:49 PM PSTWeighted score: 4.9231596 Overall Rank: 9405 Comments:
[n/a]
SupremeDreamer @ 130.65.109.104
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9-Feb-07/12:50 PM
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Reply
Er, ehem, could this be considered an improper limerick? I know it doesn't fit the particular rhyme scheme and such.. ah, fuck it, whatever.
This is pure, sheer art. The weight of heartfelt emotion is expressed beautifully through words like 'emotion' and 'blood', juxtaposing the imagery of life with that of death (as implied in phrases such as 'I now wish to be very very dead'). Moreover, the poete asks us to find a resolution to the tension between the triviality of this 'silly' life and the deeply profound seriousness of death - after all, to be 'very very' dead is serious indeed.
This is followed by a passage of majestic ambiguity; the poete's 'grip on the .36 is slipping due to my tears' - is the .36 meant in a literal context, implying that he is safe, or is .36 the weighted score which his life is rated at? If it is the latter, then he truly is near the end - whenever any of a character's stats reaches zero, they are dead dead dead. In the second half of this epic poeme, we are immediately presented with 'hampering', which, by virtue of its seasonal connotations, invokes images of gifts and food in ribbons - are these delights hidden within his cranium, waiting to spill out as the leaden Muse enters? But again, there is an unresolvable conflict with his inability to shoot himself. This is, perhaps, the poete at his introspective best, exploring the reasons behind his flashes of poetic inspiration while railing at the mystic nature which keeps the words so tantalisingly out of reach. Instead, he tells us, he will wait until the blood - his heartfelt feelings - come out 'y'ears' - a subtle hint at the wisdom he will achieve through an age arrived at by not killing himself. What is more, this wisdom has a perfect 'form' - such allusions to ancient philosophy are so rare in poetry these days! - which, being timeless, results in a potential temporal complexity hinted at in the possibility of 'read (present)/read (past)'. In his "Notes on an Ode to a Pimple-Lyric Spawned by Phalkon's Greasy Face", the poete asks us to consider the possible postmodernity of his poeme; the 'neo-limerick' movement being the driving force behind his structure. But, he asks, could such an opinion be seen as 'improper'? After all, as the postmodern pimpliterature canon tells us, aren't all opinions correct?!? -10-
lol.
Just a question concerning the verse, would any one agree that it would be better if I changed it from
"so much that I now wish to be very very dead;" to "so much so, that now I wish to be very very dead;" ? Opinions everyone?
'so much so' reads a little better as rhythm perhaps, but you are far better at poetry than I. I can but bow.
Dog shit.
You've evolved to using two word phrases to explain your reasoning. There's hope for you yet, perhaps.
Just curious, what's the other half of your genetic make-up? Fascist perhaps?
My vote...I wish to be very very dead; I love this...simple serious... Bethy :)
hm. Do I need to make a new feature "poems inspired by this poem" sort of thing?
nothing in and of itself, and I don't know Phalkon yet, so...
Politics, yes, yes, whatever must be done.
How about Neo- assignments? So I could claim it to be a neo-limerick. 278 view(s)
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