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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 5 to 29 of 40. Go back in thread:
Posted by Zo on March 16, 2002, at 1:05:12
In reply to Re: another poem A SECRET HISTORY OF PRAYER AND SONG, posted by trouble on March 15, 2002, at 15:08:42
trouble! recent Sharon Olds poem in New Yorker of curling up in her mother's arms "as she lay dying." Did you see it? I will post it, if not! I think she is dynamite, and don't find her acid-like at all, but very grounded in the stuff of life. . .
Zo
Posted by trouble on March 16, 2002, at 2:10:13
In reply to Re: another poem A SECRET HISTORY OF PRAYER AND S » trouble, posted by Zo on March 16, 2002, at 1:05:12
Posted by Zo on March 16, 2002, at 18:03:57
In reply to another poem A SECRET HISTORY OF PRAYER AND SONG, posted by kid_A on March 14, 2002, at 19:27:39
You realize that this is one of the great titles of all time.I'm quite serious. I just know there's a book behind it.
Literally. That's how I write, an interesting title comes to me first, and I tease out what's behind--within-- it.
(Have to d/l yr. poem to read more closely.)
Zo
Posted by kid_A on March 16, 2002, at 18:38:39
In reply to Re: A SECRET HISTORY OF PRAYER AND SONG » kid_A, posted by Zo on March 16, 2002, at 18:03:57
Zo,
Thank you very much for your kind words... I do often title my poems before I write them, sometimes the title changes, sometimes its left over and it's apt...I can see it now, the Psycho Babble poetry circle... again, thanks for reading. Please post some of your writing, even in exceprt if they are prose... Id like to foster an writer-friendly environment here...
as always,
A.
Posted by Zo on March 17, 2002, at 2:57:49
In reply to please please post it Zo, and thanks!!!! (nm), posted by trouble on March 16, 2002, at 2:10:13
Then we raised the top portion of the bed,
and her head was like a trillium, growing
up, out of the ground, in the woods,
eyes closed, mouth open,
and we put the Battle arias on, and when I
heard the first note, that was it, for me,
I excused myself from the death-room guests,
and went to my mother, and cleared a place
on the mattress, beside her, lifting
the tubes, oxygen, dextrose, morphine,
dipping in under them, and letting them
rest on my hair, as if burying myself
under a topsoil of roots, I pulled
the sheet up, over my head,
and touched my forehead and nose and mouth
to her arm, and then, against the warm
soloace of her skin, I sobbed full out,
unguarded, as I have not done near her;
and I could feel some barrier between us dissolving,
I could feel myself dissolving it,
moving ever closer to her through it, til I was
all there, I went to my mom
for comfort. And in her coma nothing
drew her away from giving me the basal
kindness of her presence, I took a long turn
as a child on earth. When the doctor came in,
he looked at her and said, "I'd say
hours, not days." When he left, I ate
a pear with her, talking us through it,
and walnuts--and crow, a whole bouquet
of crows came apart, outside the window.
I looked for the moon and said, I'll be right
back, and ran down the hospital hall,
and there, outside an eastern window,
was the waxing gibbous, like a swimmer's head
turned to the side half out of the water, mouth
pulled to the side and back, to take a breath,
I could see my young mother, slim
and strong in her navy one-piece, and see,
in memory's dark-blue corridor,
the beauty of her crawl, the hard, graceful
overhand motion, as someone who says
This way, to the others behind. And I went back,
and sat with her, alone, an hour,
in the quiet, and I felt, almost, not
afraid of losing her, I was so
content to have her beside me, unspeaking,
unseeing, alive.
Posted by kid_A on March 17, 2002, at 21:44:41
In reply to The Last Evening, by Sharon Olds, posted by Zo on March 17, 2002, at 2:57:49
First, are you our sort of a person?
Do you wear
A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch,
A brace or a hook,
Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch,Stitches to show something's missing? No, no? Then
How can we give you a thing?
Stop crying.
Open your hand.
Empty? Empty. Here is a handTo fill it and willing
To bring teacups and roll away headaches
And do whatever you tell it.
Will you marry it?
It is guaranteedTo thumb shut your eyes at the end
And dissolve of sorrow.
We make new stock from the salt.
I notice you are stark naked.
How about this suit----Black and stiff, but not a bad fit.
Will you marry it?
It is waterproof, shatterproof, proof
Against fire and bombs through the roof.
Believe me, they'll bury you in it.Now your head, excuse me, is empty.
I have the ticket for that.
Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
Well, what do you think of that ?
Naked as paper to startBut in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
In fifty, gold.
A living doll, everywhere you look.
It can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk , talk.It works, there is nothing wrong with it.
You have a hole, it's a poultice.
You have an eye, it's an image.
My boy, it's your last resort.
Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.
Posted by Krazy Kat on March 18, 2002, at 8:26:57
In reply to The Applicant by Sylvia Plath, posted by kid_A on March 17, 2002, at 21:44:41
Posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 9:50:48
In reply to The Applicant by Sylvia Plath, posted by kid_A on March 17, 2002, at 21:44:41
Peter Laughner,
Rocket From The Tombs,
precursor of Dead Boys and Pere Ubu, Datapanik records, 1974 (Out of print, I've never heard the original, I'm taking liberties w/ the following half-forgotten lyrics from an old Death of Samantha LP)Sylvia Plath
Was never too good at math
But they tell me that she finished
At the head of her classAnd when she lost her virginity
She didn't lose it too fast
They wouldn't hold any dress rehearsals for
Sylvia PlathSylvia Plath
Came into Manhatten
She had crawled out of one
Cocoon where there was absolutely
Nothin happenin
And if I'm gonna be classless and crass
I'm gonna break up some glass
Nobody broke anything sharper than
Sylvia PlathThere's no vast excuses (?)
There's just the dance in the aftermathAnd when you check out of this hotel jack
Yer nothin but an autographThe desk clerk wakes her at seven
And he tosses it out w/the trash
But he'll keep around a couple of letters
Which were addressed to
Sylvia PlathSylvia Plath
Woke up and turned on the gas
Then she put her head down and completely
Forgot about lighting a matchThe rest of the details
Are too boring to attachLet's see you do one thing as graceful as
Sylvia Plath
Let's see you do one thing as graceful as
Sylvia PlathYeah, let's see you do one thing as senselessly cruel as
Sylvia Plath
It's unbeleievably beautiful if you ever come across a copy or cover by any band, I predict you will buy it stat.p.s. I like that last line, it must be one for her kids, ya think?
Posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 10:33:30
In reply to Sylvia Plath by gifted, reckless, dead, posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 9:50:48
A Portrait Of The Reader With A Bowl Of Cereal BILLY COLLINS
"A poet...never speaks directly,
as to someone at the breakfast table."
-yeatsEvery morning I sit across from you
at the same small table,
the sun all over the breakfast things-
curve of a blue-and-white pitcher,
a dish of berries-
me in a sweatshirt or robe,
you invisible.Most days, we are suspended
over a deep pool of silence.
I stare straight through you
or look out the window at the garden,
the powerful sky,
a cloud passing behind a tree.There is no need to pass the toast,
the pot of jam,
or pour you a cup of tea,
and I can hide behind the paper,
rotate in its drum of calamitous news.But some days I may notice
a little door swinging open
in the morning air,
and maybe the tea leaves
of some dream will be stuck
to the china slope of the hour-then I will lean forward,
elbows on the table,
with something to tell you,
and you will look up, as always
your spoon dripping milk, ready to listen.
Posted by beardedlady on March 18, 2002, at 11:35:49
In reply to Marry it! Marry it! Marry it!, posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 10:33:30
Excellent poem; thank you.
By the way, when I was in 9th grade, I'd listen to my 8-track tapes in his car sometimes and leave them there. I'll never forget my dad coming in from work once when I'd left my Dead Boys tape in his deck. "What the hell's this shit--'I don't wanna dance, I just wanna get in your pants'?"
"Duh, Dad. It's the Dead Boys."
In case you're interested, I'm good at the line break thing. I would love to swap poems and critiques, but I don't like the idea of doing it here. Will you put in an e-mail address?
: )>
Posted by kid_A on March 18, 2002, at 14:13:38
In reply to Re: Marry it! Marry it! Marry it! » trouble, posted by beardedlady on March 18, 2002, at 11:35:49
Posted by beardedlady on March 18, 2002, at 14:41:44
In reply to I've always prefered The Damned to the Dead Boys.. (nm), posted by kid_A on March 18, 2002, at 14:13:38
Ultravoxx (with John Foxx, not Midge) and the buzzies and Eddie and the Hot Rods. (I could take or leave the Dead Boys and Richard Hell.) I spent a good portion of my teens and twenties in our one punk club listening to these guys and hanging out with them. Made me what I am today!
; )>
Posted by kid_A on March 18, 2002, at 17:55:50
In reply to Oh, me too! And the Stranglers and... » kid_A, posted by beardedlady on March 18, 2002, at 14:41:44
Posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 21:23:40
In reply to I've always prefered The Damned to the Dead Boys.. (nm), posted by kid_A on March 18, 2002, at 14:13:38
Either/Or thinking, Kid, don't make me cite you for Borderline Tendencies!
psychocop
Posted by dove on March 19, 2002, at 14:37:06
In reply to Re: I've always prefered The Damned to the Dead Boys.., posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 21:23:40
What about Nick Cave, and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds?
He's not cut-clean or perfect in rhythm or rhyme, but so many of his songs have such a keen edge that it's hard to argue against the fact that he's truly a poet. However, I'm not a well-versed nor a well-read poetry lover, I do wish I had the time to become one as I love poetry and write scribbles myself when I feel unable to speak.
Nick Cave's writing hits me first at a gut-level kind of force. It has a punch, and can be a real discomposing or uncomfortable first read or listen.
However, when I desensitize my over-sensitive emotional control center (as best I can), I find so much more hidden beneath the crass or the slurred. After a little digging, I find a goldmine of sorrow, loss, anger, surrender, submission, murder.
Followed by an emotional pause of sorts--like after being assaulted, just stunned--and a dusting of soothing silver spreads across my smarting and slightly bruised consciousness. It is an image of hope, love, vitality, healing, and *not* giving in to the dark forces that beg me to visit them.
dove (rambling thoughts....)
Posted by kid_A on March 19, 2002, at 14:53:43
In reply to Re: I've always prefered Nick Cave-book/songwriter, posted by dove on March 19, 2002, at 14:37:06
I have the Birthday Party album Junk Yard, and the book "King Ink", my copy is published by
Henry Rollin's "213" publishing company...I like his writing more than I like the music of the Birthday Party... Though I like the Birthday Party better than I like his solo work... I guess I just dig the goth kitsch...
Posted by IsoM on March 19, 2002, at 15:06:09
In reply to Re: I've always prefered Nick Cave-book/songwriter, posted by dove on March 19, 2002, at 14:37:06
Posted by beardedlady on March 19, 2002, at 16:00:20
In reply to Finally! Someone who's heard of Nick Cave!!!! (nm) » dove, posted by IsoM on March 19, 2002, at 15:06:09
Posted by kid_A on March 19, 2002, at 16:30:10
In reply to Re: I've always prefered The Damned to the Dead Boys.., posted by trouble on March 18, 2002, at 21:23:40
> Either/Or thinking, Kid, don't make me cite you for Borderline Tendencies!
My inner child suggests you go listen to Outlandos D'amour by the Police...
Posted by Rach on March 19, 2002, at 20:58:33
In reply to Finally! Someone who's heard of Nick Cave!!!! (nm) » dove, posted by IsoM on March 19, 2002, at 15:06:09
I have a lot of family from the same area that Nick is from - Wangaratta in Australia. I attended the same Uni as he did, and live about 5mins from his high school.
I never knew all this until just now when I searched for him on the internet to check that he actually was Australian. I think one of the strangest things he's ever done is a duet with Kylie Minogue.
Posted by IsoM on March 19, 2002, at 22:22:26
In reply to Re: Finally! Someone who's heard of Nick Cave!!!!, posted by Rach on March 19, 2002, at 20:58:33
His Murder Ballads are something. He's taken a somewhat different path with his music lately but I really like it. I had a mental image of him & when I first saw him was thoroughly surprised - not like I expected at all. Now I can't imagine him any other way.
Posted by trouble on March 20, 2002, at 1:13:49
In reply to Re: Nick Cave!!!! » Rach, posted by IsoM on March 19, 2002, at 22:22:26
O My God. Nick Cave is the love of my secret life. I really have a found a home here. thank you thank you thank you
trouble
Posted by beardedlady on March 20, 2002, at 5:31:04
In reply to Re: Nick Cave!!!!, posted by trouble on March 20, 2002, at 1:13:49
Are we middle-agers? Nick Cave, the Stranglers, the Damned? We must all be what--38? 39? 4000000000000000? Aaargh!
Think I'll go put on a Green Day CD and pretend they're really Stiff Little Fingers.
: )>
Posted by kid_A on March 20, 2002, at 9:36:27
In reply to Re: Nick Cave!!!!, posted by beardedlady on March 20, 2002, at 5:31:04
i'm only 31 (SHE'S ONLY TWENTY NINE!!!!!!) sorry, i had to sing that Sex Pistols lyric there... but I've been buyiing ALBUMS since i was 16...Since we're all in the musical spirit here, I thought it'd be interesting to see how many bands we could name that were near or maybe notso dear to our hearts... you know, genre wise...
I'ts funny, when I was about 17/18 we did an instore (instore = when the band shows up and the record store and generally signs autographs and bullshit like that) with the Ramones... that whas 1987 so they were definitely past their peak, but nonetheless they looked the part... they were pissed because there was such a crappy turnout, and someone asked them to sign a Village People album... they signed it and gave one of the people on the cover a little Hitler mustache...
neways... here's my fond list...
btw, does everyone here remember the Peel Sessions, lotsa good bands on those!Ramones first 5 albums...
The Police (especially their firt album)
Wire (especially their first three albums)
Buzzcocks (just about anything except their most recent, very recent album)
The Clash
The Pistols (of course)
Joy Division/New Order
Bauhaus/Tones On Tail/Love + Rockets
early Elvis Costello
The Soft Boys (Robyn Hitchcocks old band)
the Modern Lovers first album
The Tubes just for "White pUNKs on Dope"
Most anything produced by Martin Hannet
This Mortal Coil/Dead Can Dance/Cocteau Twins
Psychic TV/Throbbing Gristle/Coil/Chris + Cosey
Caberet Voltaire/Clock DVA/Haffler Trio...lotsa more where that came from, anyone else?
Posted by beardedlady on March 20, 2002, at 10:25:33
In reply to stiff little fingers, how many bands can we name?, posted by kid_A on March 20, 2002, at 9:36:27
I was the lead singer of a so-called "new wave" band in the early '80s. Before that, I hung out at our local punk club and met all kinds of bands--even met U2 and hung out with Bono and Adam for a little while. Once, at a Chinese restaurant, Iggy Pop came over and asked, "Do you wanna go snort some coke and fuck?" Of course, I didn't. I was smart. He was gross. Ew.
My first concert was David Bowie in '75 (I was 13, went with Mommy). In '79, I saw Iggy Pop headline with the Ramones as an opener. Then I saw everyone else--from the Cramps to X to Stiff Little Fingers.
Here's a list, in no particular order:
Eddie and the Hot Rods ("Teenage Depression/that's what I'm talkin' 'bout/if you don't know what I mean/then you better get out/get out!")
Buzzcocks
Ultravox
Television
Teardrop Explodes (loved them)
Damned
Stranglers
Vibrators
Pere Ubu
The Fall (weird)
John Cale
Modern LoversGosh. I can't remember half of the bands I used to listen to, since they were all albums, which are socked away in the attic.
beardy : )>
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