Second poest contains the moest woeds.

Yes, I know. It’s been a bloody while. I should have known that I set myself up for a fall when I committed to do a two part post. Stupid eewah.

I know nobody really cares, but I feel as though I should explain my delinquency. On the one hand, I wrote this towards the tail end of vacation, when I knew my window of free blogging time would be closing. Stupid Eewah. On the other hand, I decided to say that my next post would also be poetic in nature. Stupid Eewah. I hadn’t gotten the time and inspiration to finish this post until just now, but I HAVE had several other ideas for posts that I set myself up not to develop. What where they you ask? I don’t…remember. Because I didn’t make them. But I bet they were genius and would have improved the world. Oops, sorry.

So…now to the meat of the post. I suppose that last bit was the gravy… I am stepping out of the serious for a second and introducing you to

Gregory K, from gottabook.blogspot.com

This man I recently found by watching a vidcast that mentioned a new form of poetry he invented: The Fib. More on that in a second- first allow me show you some of his other material:

HOLD MY BREATH

On Monday at the swimming pool,
I acted like a total fool.
“Hold my breath? No way!” I cried.
Then little Joe came to my side.
“I’ll hold it for you,” Joe did say.
So I gave him my breath... and he ran away!
Now I can’t speak or sneeze or cough.
I can’t blow the fluff of a dandelion off.
I can’t call Mom or Dad or you.
There’s really nothing I can do.
So if you see Joe somewhere, somehow
Tell him I want my breath back NOW.

I think this piece is one of my favorites. I was going to do another one of these little funny ones, but I think in the interest of brevity (ha! Riiight…) I will move on. You can get more at his web site.

Like I mentioned earlier, he also has invented a new form of structured poetry called the “Fib”. Fib is short for Fibonacci, a simple mathmatical sequence in which the pattern consists of the last two numbers combined. A fib applies this to how many syllables each line has- clever, eh? So the pacing goes like so: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, etc. They are a lot of fun and he suggests that they are good for warm ups for getting yourself in the ability to rhyme and match rhythm in your poems. From what I can tell, it seems it really does work. But enough of my jibber jabber- lets here some by him:

One
Small,
Precise,
Poetic,
Spiraling mixture:
Math plus poetry yields the Fib.
---
Ants
Can’t
Wear pants
When they dance.
Plus I’ve heard the news
They never put on dancing shoes.

There a lot of fun- and now you know what I was doing 2 posts ago! As you can see, Greg K. has only takes his to 8 syllable lines. I think I went to 20 something- of course, my friend GreenDragonRider had to not only 1 up me, but out do me by about 30 syllables. Her amazing achievement in literacy can be viewed here.

I’ve thought about this and my imagination was sparked- the flame caught a small flash fire of paper and I came up with a whole bunch of different schemes for poetry: Mirrored Fibs, backwards fibs (other people have also thought of this though), and Pi poems (poems written in 3, 1, 4, etc.) The flames quickly died down however, though they did not go out until after I had produced this ‘mirror fib’.

Math,
Art-
The two join
To create beauty
The syllable count ticks to eight
Then hangs gracefully in mid air
Falling once more down
It dissolves
And fades-
Art,
Math.

For some reason the balance really makes it cool for me.

Ok, now back to the serious…
Previously on uttereast.blogspot.com I asked my readers to give their interpretation of a song. Well some people at least said they tried, but I'm still waiting, lol. So here my humble interpertation of the song BLEED SEASON. I believe this song is all about a man who becomes a believer and is experiencing the struggle of maintaining a holy life…In my oppinion, if you read the whole song it follows a man from becoming a christian to dealing with the fact that there are still life issues to be dealt with even when Christ is with you. The title Bleed Season is about the times of peril or struggle in our lives-

“Is this my time to feel? Is this my time to breathe? Is this my time to bleed? Change the season”

For is not their coming as sure as the changing of the seasons?

Here is my interpretations for the verses I posted earlier:

Trace the tree and the veil will flee me <--Think of a crime scene- when someone dies, they trace the position in chalk. The tree obviously here is the cross. The veil- the infamous veil in the temple that separated the holy from the holy of holies- and symbolically, us from God.
And now I see with salty eyes <--Seeing through his tears
Consistent tragedy persisting in me
This disability's my soul's demise
Deaf to self and mute to mind
Muddled wallowing nebulous blind <--Something’s still wrong in him…

My crippled confidence is chafed away <--Its getting to him
With the answers I'm pulled astray <--He now knows what is wrong and right-
The habits laced embrace me <--Yet his old patterns are not broken
With a cold, chaotic flinch
Kiss of old deaths erase me <--Love this line… the things he thought he had killed are coming back to him…
Soft, subtle, inch by inch <--Baabbby steps…. But very EVIL baby steps, lol.

Awesomeness…. You gotta hear it. It rocks really hard.

OK.. moving on number B... Though not officially a ‘poet’, while we are on the topic of hard bands with amazing lyrisicsts, I think I should mention Bean Bag.

Bean Bag
By the time they had gotten to only their second studio released album, Bean Bag had obtained a polish and artistic maturity that is not seen in many other bands in their entire career. Their last album, Well Adjusted was a masterpiece. Unfortunately, just as they were hitting their artistic stride they were not hitting their business stride. They dissolved the band and, as sure as I know, all went to get ‘real jobs’. Check out the lyrics to the song These Stains off of their last album:

I am shame, can I enter?
I hold your name on my placenta
it has fame to see adventure
call its name to find dementure

oh, why did I leave you? I am
here but shame told me
'always' and it is soldering out these stains

sold my peace for anarchy
it took me to the sea
holding all I have to be
I shook the rug out so delicately

oh, why did I leave you? I am
here but shame told me
'always' and it is soldering out these stains

if I had just listened to you
if I had just focused in on you

oh, why did I leave you? I am
here but shame told me
'always' and it is soldering out these stains

oh, these stains

Hahaha, tell me what THAT one means… its probably even harder then the last one. I didn’t get it until I was depressed enough. Then it sort of snapped into place, and that made me happy and I haven’t solved any Bean Bag songs since then. What do you folks say?