CombatWords for July 16-July 18, 2010: “Causality: Reflections, Echoes and Ripples”
Jul 16
Uncategorized combatwords 29 Comments
Causality: Reflections, Echoes and Ripples: Hume made the point there is no reason why we should expect causality. Locke claimed that all things had primary and secondary qualities. Descartes said there was no reason to believe anything is real and Bishop Berkeley said the only way this world makes sense is if it’s mediated in the mind of God. So the origin of phenomena has been a question humans have long wanted to answer. We want to know the essence of a thing; as if that would stop the questioning. Since there is no satisfactory answer to the problems of phenomena (a task for philosophers besides!), it is a rich area to write about.
Combat Expiration: Sunday, July 18, 2010; at 6pm PST
Critique Expiration: Monday, July 19, 2010; at 6pm PST
Time Bonuses: Bonuses are scored in increments of 6 hours. Pieces that post from now until midnight PST get a +8; Midnight to 6am, +7; 6am-Noon, +6; etc.
Scoring Reminder: SCORING MUST BE METED IN INCREMENTS OF +/-1! There is a good reason for this rule: it prevents the ‘I liked it/I hated it’ critiques from predominating. It prevents score inflation; as if you think you can score +2 well what’s to stop someone else from scoring -10? You MUST score by increments of +/-1 and if you can’t be bothered, then your response doesn’t count for much. I will modify all scores to reflect this, as you all have had a few weeks to try the system out. So no more, “I loved it! +10,” Or “I’m a total moron and I can’t express why I hate your composition in simple craft terms; -100.”
PS: You might shoot at the wrong mule, so look out!
Jul 17, 2010 @ 09:57:59
THE POETRY POLICE
When I was young I thought poetry was about
speaking out
and being an individual
I thought art was the one place
where crazy
was ok.
But now poets must be
emotionally well balanced
sensible
at least two-thirds educated and in the upper
half of the middle class,
calm as spinning tops
with pretty faces and cool eyes
perfect hair
and teeth.
They’ve got to pass
a piss test
a psyche sheet
a credit check
and have a good
driving record.
They must be bloated with righteousness
and fear
of themselves or
anything going cross-grain.
They must not have the imagination or
the spirit
to vent a blast of art
through the walls of convention
and they must have
manners and etiquette
and oaths and flags to
hide behind.
Today’s poets are more cop
than creator.
No wonder people
hate them.
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 17th, 2010 at 1:01 pm
@Mather Schneider, Coming into what amounts to a hostile environment and laying it down.: +1
Reminding us that poetry is more action than thought: +1
Coloring outside the lines: +1
more cop/than creator: +1
Poet as the aggrieved party is always compelling: +1
Anything that pokes holes in pretension is all right by me: +1
Also on a meta level, “oaths and flags to hide behind” and “fear of themselves” was a dig at the Anonymouses (Anonymice?), which means more fightin’!: +1
This was an excellent poem. Whatever personal feelings people in this thread might have toward Mather, they cant’ take that away. +1
Keeping in mind that this is all fun and games and has no real bearing on “poetics,” I think this scoring system is a little flawed. It seems to gauge quantity over quality. The scoring system seems really arbitrary–Just +1, +1, +1…This seems like it’s more about gauging the cleverness of the judges than the merits of the poem. As long as you can come up with enough criteria to +1, you can +1 ’til the cows come home.
Look, the scoring really doesn’t matter, but it just seems like this is more of a +1′ing contest, than a poetry one. I’m sorry, but the scoring criteria is lost on me.
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July 17th, 2010 at 1:19 pm
@Jeff Chon, “Whatever personal feelings people in this thread might have toward Mather, they cant’ take that away. +1″
Oh, they can take it away, rest assured. But I appreciate it, Jon.
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July 17th, 2010 at 1:23 pm
@Mather Schneider, Jeff.
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Dirk Johnson Reply:
July 17th, 2010 at 6:29 pm
@Mather Schneider,
I like your spirit in this. +1
Grading isn’t really my style…
In my experience there have always been both ways in poetry: There’s Pindar and there’s Sappho. I don’t care if the verse is polished and is delivered by a pretty voice and face so long long as the verse is good verse.
Grit is, of course, good for the digestion.
But if poetry were always only one way, and there were only one good way, I would hate poetry, which would be far worse than everyone else hating it (and I don’t use “everyone” with exaggeration). For getting me to say this: +1
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 13:07:05
THE PHILOSOPHER KING RIMS HIMSELF IN THE MATRIX
When Williams wrote
the Red Wheelbarrow, Hume
was far from his mind, just
as Voltaire and Rousseau
and Berkeley had nothing to do
with the Roominghouse Madrigals.
When Cain wrote
Double Indemnity, he
didn’t give two shits
about Metaphysics, Epistomology–
He cared about men and women
and liars and fucking.
There’s no time
for navel-gazing when
the world is up your ass.
Poetry isn’t dorm room conversation
til four in the morning. It’s never
cute and it’s not clever.
It’s a kick in the ribs,
a tongue in her ear. Poetry
isn’t theory; it’s practice.
The truth simply is
and you’re only asking questions
because you can never understand.
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Dirk Johnson Reply:
July 17th, 2010 at 6:32 pm
@Jeff Chon,
Do you really think that Hume had zero to do with The Red Wheelbarrow? Sigh. But the way you put it across is good. +1
Love, what ailed thee to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love?
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 17th, 2010 at 8:49 pm
@Dirk Johnson, “But the way you put it across is good. +1″
WOO! Partial credit!
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Nathan Tyree Reply:
July 19th, 2010 at 1:19 pm
@Jeff Chon,
+ 53 for the number of times you used the letter ‘e’
Kidding, I have no idea what I am doing
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 19th, 2010 at 4:24 pm
@Nathan Tyree, That means I won, right?
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Nathan Tyree Reply:
July 19th, 2010 at 5:58 pm
I think so
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 14:06:22
He spoke of names
The names carried great meaning
Even though they meant nothing to me
I know there are those
Who can spend their entire life
Trying to learn
What another did
This makes me nervous for them
That they might not have enough time
To finish and pick up where the other left off
It’s such a waste to have an encyclopedia in the grave
When there are plenty on the shelf
But the world needs fertilizer
It isn’t picky
Bukowski is a name that means something to me
It is carved into his tombstone
‘Don’t try’
That simple statement echoes the truth
Mather and Jon speak highly of
Two names that are beginning to have meaning for me
Two poets writing in combat
Pealing back pretense
And holding truth up to the light
Asking that the class brings their best
Or ‘Don’t try’
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July 17th, 2010 at 2:17 pm
@The Humanist, It’s “Jeff” not “Jon”. I made that mistake too.
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The Humanist Reply:
July 17th, 2010 at 2:20 pm
@Mather Schneider,
God damnit, sorry Jeff. Now I definitely won’t forget your name because it is seared into my mind with the hot brand of embarrassment.
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 8:26 am
@The Humanist, Second stanza is the strongest. “the world needs fertilizer/It isn’t picky: +1
I used to roll my eyes at “Don’t try,” but it’s more and more becoming a very helpful reminder. I live 10 minutes from his grave, btw. I drive past it when I go to the beach: +1
Name checking me like I was Mike D (I know what you meant): +1
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 14:44:17
It’s cool. Given the contentious nature of a lot of these threads, if “Jon” is the worst thing I’m called, I’ll take it.
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 18:21:46
A Phenomenal Experience
Piss test flunked, teeth nearly gone
Never had a dorm room
But pretense not stripped off
Is still pealing.
“This is that”
Makes two one via difference.
Matter
(If it IS matter)
Shoved into sound
As though vibrations
In air could stop you
From defining “table”
As “ottoman”
With ped
On it
Alone or in pairs.
What was that?
Did you feel it?
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 8:31 am
@Dirk Johnson,
Respond to Mather: +1
Respond to me: +1
Pealing is a good word.: +1 for you and the Humanist.
Throwing down gauntlet with last two lines: +1
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The Humanist Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 9:03 am
@Dirk Johnson,
Piss test flunked, teeth nearly gone
We are hearing from a voice who has been subjected to piss tests. These tests could be have been ordered by a guardian, court, or employer. The teeth being nearly gone leads me to believe this is a long time user who is being ordered to take piss tests by a court. This line is complete and fills my minds with thoughts. +1
Never had a dorm room
The user never lived in a dorm and indicates that they have not gone to college. They could have gone to community college or night school, but if they had the narrator is being misleading. It would be like saying ‘I never shot someone with my gun’ because you normally shoot them with a harpoon. This line made me wonder where the poem was going. I was concerned it was going to go into a sort of stereotype tale of a junky because writing about drugs is difficult. +1
But pretense not stripped off
Suddenly I like this junky narrative because the voice is being real here. Even though the narrator has been through the system, and close to the edge, they still have pretense. I respect this because I think dignity is one aspect of pretense and since the narrator still has some, I can tell they aren’t ‘broken’. This relieves my nerves that the poem is not headed in a cliche drug story. +1
Is still pealing.
The pretense is still pealing. So it is an ongoing process. This line is beautiful, the thought of pretense pealing as paint or skin is vivid. +1
“This is that”
The narrative is shattered here. One moment this poem is very clear, now it steps into quotations. It introduces an idea on the arbitrary nature of words. -1
Makes two one via difference.
Since this is also that, that would also be is. So two words can be the same and entirely different. Much like chemicals that can be identical on the molecular level but completely different in form.
Matter
The junky is so far away, especially now that we are given a single word, which encompasses an accumulated set of ideas of nature. There are three big things going on here, there is the junky, the ideas about words, and now we break into another realm. It is difficult to make a connection between the subjects.
(If it IS matter)
The junky is still gone, but the theme of the words is back. The parentheses set this off completely from any established voice. Perhaps this is intended to highlight the way words exist outside of matter (maybe) -1
Shoved into sound
A continuation on the theme of physics, it ties nicely with my understanding of molecules vibrating and leap frogs into the next line.
As though vibrations
In air could stop you
From defining “table”
As “ottoman”
A good repeat of the this is that theme. The junky narrative is complete abandoned and doesn’t seem to fit with this new one. +1
With ped
On it
Alone or in pairs.
These three lines seem like an extraneous detail. -1
I really lose it here. I don’t follow how matter shoved into sound could stop me from defining this as that. It does remind me again of the arbitrary nature of words, and how now even when they exist in sound they carry no weight or stopping power to prevent me from using whichever one I please.
What was that?
That was this. +1
Did you feel it?
If ‘it’ is confusion, then yes I felt a little.
I felt like the poem introduced some good ideas for thinking on, but it didn’t take it far enough and sort of fell off at the end. The voice changed so much in the poem it was hard to ground it, perhaps that was intended given the subject, but I don’t think it was as effective as it could be.
Final score 2 (which is a good score for combat words under its point system)
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 20:33:32
Dialectic Of Enallages With Wittgenstein
And the nightmares were worse you said; reaching an apex
In your waking. I said it was terror—ennui, not
An invader of sleep. And you said you were riding
In a trance as you opened your eyes in the morning.
And the sleepiness, real. And this wakefulness, figment
Of a thing you’ve forgotten or haven’t the language
To just state in pure symbols. The language is failing
You: its signals are static—absolving intentions
Far beyond definitions, in spaces between us.
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The Humanist Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 9:25 am
@Khakjaan Wessington,
Normally I don’t think much of titles unless they are cliche teen angst, then I detest them. It doesn’t embarrass me in the least that I had to use a dictionary here to understand you were about to riff on the theme in Dirk’s poem. Although they aren’t words in my typical vocabulary, they do a good job of stating something that would have taken me 15 words. It could be alienating to readers when they see this title, so I am torn as to whether or not to award a point here. Therefore I take the middle road and go with no score.
And the nightmares were worse you said; reaching an apex +1
I like the way this picks up using ‘and’, as if we are slipping into a stream of thought that has already been flowing. It is a good beginning introducing a narrator who has been speaking to someone suffering from nightmares that are increasingly bad.
In your waking. I said it was terror—ennui, not
Even though this is a new line, I have to tie it to the previous one based on your use of punctuation. So it causes me to think that these nightmares get worse right before waking up, which is typically the way dreams go. The narrators response to the afflicted is interesting, again it sent me to the dictionary. I guess the nightmares are receding at that point out of boredom from terrorizing the subject, the terror got its fill.
An invader of sleep. And you said you were riding
Here I don’t quite follow the narrator by telling the tormented their nightmares are not invaders of sleep, but it is poetic. My favorite visual occurs here with ‘riding in a trance’, to me that line is beautiful and aptly describes the transition from dreams to wakefulness.
In a trance as you opened your eyes in the morning.
And the sleepiness, real. And this wakefulness, figment
This captures the mind between two states in a perfect concise manner.
Of a thing you’ve forgotten or haven’t the language +1
To just state in pure symbols. The language is failing +1
You: its signals are static—absolving intentions +1
Far beyond definitions, in spaces between us. +1
This entire poem is strong, but here it hits the ineffective nature of words to describe feeling out of the park. It puts a finger on a shell fragment in a bowl of cracked eggs, and slides the little sliver of calcium right up the edge and out for easy viewing. If anyone has tried to remove a bit of shell from a cracked egg, they know how fucking hard it is to get their finger on it, how it just keeps slipping away. I am inspired, and think I need to read some more philosophy.
Final Score 5
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Jul 17, 2010 @ 23:11:02
Petulant
When I was young
I thought the moon
followed me at night.
This is a fairly common
when you’ve no concept
of angular perspective
or geosynchronous orbit.
It is also widespread
among small children
who have yet to grasp
a world that does not
revolve around them.
Subjectivity is the prison
we all occupy and it is
a lifelong sentence.
Each cell has but two
distorted windows
and there is no escape
save death.
There many books
in the prison library
that tell tales of a place
called objectivity.
They are phenomenal
stories but in the end
wholly unrealistic.
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Jeff Chon Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 8:46 am
@Steven Marty Grant, I like the title: +1
The moon does follow me at night. That’s what angular perspective is.:) +1
That first stanza’s pretty strong opening shot. :+1
Objectivity is a dream, subjectivity is real and a prison. You are a ray of sunshine, Steven: +1
Fighting poem. +1
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Jul 18, 2010 @ 08:33:00
INSTINCT
Just as the West Indies
existed before Columbus
and his erroneous designation,
so existed the convergence
of mind, body, and elemental thrust—
long before men gave it a name,
long before men, long before names—
churning in our guts,
pumping through our chests,
snapping synapse to synapse
like drum fills and firecrackers.
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The Humanist Reply:
July 18th, 2010 at 11:28 am
@Jeff Chon,
Deep sea
Covering dreams
Of olden times divers
Copper fitted helmets shining
Bubbles always climbing
Spent breaths, sphered and rising
Lead weights on feet
Pressed into the moon dust sand
A treasure chest gaping
Wounded gold into the turquoise night
These dreams
Happen while awake
In the waiting room of a dentist
Tuning his instruments
On the calcium packed teeth of patients
Sometimes hitting nerves
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Jul 18, 2010 @ 11:32:29
“Thou art the thing itself,” Lear cries, words to take to heart. This morning, I can’t decide what to become. In the extravagance that is California Land, there are too many choices. I sit on the moldy, bird-stained cushions of an old couch on the deck and my mind goes somewhere for awhile. Eventually, I realize I wouldn’t mind being the couch itself. I could sit and observe all the unfolding business of creatures alive in time, but the sky would hold no terror or sadness to me. And I’d fill my end of the bargain, don’t worry. I’d be a repository for the their waste. I’d be the receptacle for their sins. I’d be their comfort in the dying.
A couch on a deck it is, I art.
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Jul 18, 2010 @ 21:02:24
Another fine CombatWords thread! Hopefully some of the silent readers will weigh in on a few of these comps.
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Jul 19, 2010 @ 14:39:00
This one was fun, it was nice to see Marty show up again, along with Jeff. Valerie where are you? I wish you would have joined us.
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Jul 19, 2010 @ 16:04:15
@The Humanist, Yeah it was fun. Not going to comment on poems because frankly, I’ve got other things I need to write. But you all did great! Thanks for participating.
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