Lemma

Indeed, because I was so
unloved (and in love)
I forgot what it was,
and things were deranged.

It followed, then
that I should be silent
and docile. It means so
little to be these.
To mean so little,
to be such, and to find
what would be our greatest
losses.

Hymn for the Northeastern United States

So many men
and so many yesterdays and
many flowers and seventeen
softly-born meadows and

again,
what were we to
do with ourselves
and
again, again.
I was so silently
contented, and not so.
(I'll never be
able to convey
how much I'm sorry
that this is true).
How? I don't know,
and I shouldn't hope
but I do hope
that you will
be sometime.

Indeed, there's some faith.

Have faith and
have
faith,
You will fly away.

Haiku and a short list of video games that might be worth your time

So I haven't posted in a while.

This is largely because I've hit somewhat of a dry spell in regards to writing poetry. I'm not sure why this is, but it may have something to do with the fact that I'm honestly getting a similar fulfillment out of writing proofs for real analysis and abstract algebra that I do when I write poetry. That being said, I do hope this is somewhat temporary and that I'll pick up a bit of steam over the break to finish off this blog. At 96, so four most posts and I'll probably start a new one.

Anyway, I did write a haiku for a contest held by the Japanese society at Harvard. Here it is.

Summer

On a steel train track,
three green-crusted heads compressed.
Six small hands and smiles.

I'm not sure how well it'll do. I tried to follow the model of stark imagery and avoid more abstract language. I think that a lot of modern haiku doesn't take into account the purposes and structure of the form. It's particularly well-suited for those types of images (which can, of course, be symbolic) and I think too much explanation of them in the meat of the poem is inefficient.

Anyway, I also had a discussion with somebody about certain, ahem, aspects of the male population she found frustrating. I found some validity in her points, but I, too, was frustrated by a clear stereotyping of both video games and "gamers" (I kind of hate that word, but I'll use it this once). There's no denying that playing video games can be addictive, destructive to one's ability to socialize, selfish, and/or escapist. I'd argue, however, that consuming other forms of visual or even literary media can have the same consequences. Television, for example, may not enjoy the same status as it once did, but watching it obsessively seems about as dangerous as playing video games obsessively. And any argument that cites game companies' attempts to sell a game by appealing to men's sex drives (e. g. Ivy from Soul Calibur, Lara Croft, etc.) completely ignores that using sex to sell is far more pervasive in other forms of entertainment and has been for a very long time. I'd argue that some instances of pop lit, even (and I'm sorry to pick on Twilight here, but it's the best example by far) are not only appealing to sexuality, but do it in such a way as to reinforce negative aspects of our dating culture.

As far as video games being useful to society, it's pretty clear that they stimulate the development of problem solving skills and develop certain aspects of mental acuity. That being said, I don't think it's the best idea to spend 5 hours a day playing video games in hopes that you'll improve your math SAT scores or become an expert sharpshooter. Anyway, here's a list of games I think people should take a second look at. I think they have a lot of creative merit, and they are so without sacrificing fun at all. Some of them are very old, but still available via the magic of the internet. Perhaps you'll enjoy them.

1. Earthbound (also known as Mother 2)

When I think of popular media that has influenced me in a positive way, one of the first things that comes to mind is Shigesato Itoi's masterpiece for the Super Nintendo, Earthbound. A prolific Japanese literati, Itoi has coauthored with such giants as Haruki Murakami. His wit comes out very clearly in the dialogue of his games, and it's incredibly unfortunate for the industry that he's stopped making them. He comments about some aspects of the game design in an interesting interview here:

Earthbound's plot is fairly conventional, in terms of its adherence to the good vs. evil archetype, but much of it is a satire of the conventions of gaming, particularly those of RPGs (in which fighting enemies revolves around a turn-based system, somewhat like a board game). One character, named "Dungeon Man" is actually a dungeon designer, who literally turns himself into a living dungeon and provides a lecture on designing dungeons at one point in the game. The game also is a profound satire of modern materialism, which is really sort of the crux of the conflict. As is typical, the antagonist of the game is bent on destruction, but is so due to a transforming self-adsorption, and his lackey (who reappears in the game's sequel, Mother 3) is similarly self-absorbed. The likable characters in the game tend to be Mr. T shaped folks with dreadlocks, musicians, and simple vendors. Itoi thus makes a statement against certain aspects of capitalism, and one that influences you as you play through the game.

Anyway, I'll defer to this review of Earthbound for additional information, but, be assured, you should play it.



So I'm going to stop for now, since I need to eat and get some abstract algebra homework done. I'll be back and post some more soon.

Two Stages

Today is a brown dwarf,
and I, its lonely recipient
of light, have no use for
the boon of slow burning.
I go.

Tomorrow might be the same size,
but white, nova-prior,
degenerate and one-point-four.
White next-days are common fates
I hope.

Second-Best-Case Scenario

well
what if you were j. s. bach
eisenach to leipzig
what then what then
would you have made it
(good exercise) that far
made love to maria barbara and raised baby carl
(these days, everybody hears your yo-yo ma)
sweet faints delight those princesses
all the overfed bavarians sucking
hard on all those organ pipes
what'd you think about
when you were holier
for four-hundred-odd
man what if you'd fallen
maybe you did
what then

How I was put into an Aquarium on April 8th, 2009.

Superior water to my coffin-laid
body, litmus-red and breathing,
formed pinholes adjacent to the upper
trough floor. Slow clear beams rushed in.

How does it elevate, this liquid
when I prepossess its natural space?
How does it act absent dancing light,
summer syntax of public swimming pools?

Gravity subsides and I lie still,
My eyes follow a wandering finger,
envious in the air outside.

Sonnet Commemorating a third Giant-Jellyfish Invasion, occuring in July 2009

Nomura named these creatures. Now,
Nomura-named, slow-wild
lethargy leaves its mild
unmoving path across yellow.

Littered ocean staff with white
stems and heads. Some wandering bass
offers his aria, porpoise play-laced,
pours his breath into breathless audience-sky.

With acrid reach and warning, the nightmare
migrator sheer-sizes and resistlessly
prowls, unhindered by the surety
of man, if not forward-spurred!

Praise to these juggernauts of the Sea of Japan,
and to force without mind with so great a hand!

Catalysis

did you plant a field of what
matters protect it from crows
organize irrigate it with water
till soil until it breathes
and
did you start a forest fire
flicked cigarette embers and
let it seethe until each tree
wore peacoats of orange red
and
did you set a glacier moving
across canada carving land into
its likeness jagged made lovely
and white and so slowly free
and
did you set orbits orbitals
planets electrons where greedy
and overburdened stars and nuclei
alike jostled madly color-changed
and
did you spew ideas into the dark
to cause fear joy eels mating love
not love unlove the making near of us
infect this unlonely universe with light
and
if you did do you now do you know why

Satan's Little Lemur

I command, Speak your spinal humor,
fanged, fingernailed and nailed!
Poor lemur, now your curve is
likened to your heel-crushed
contemporary, or compatriot perhaps?
Maiden-thrust to the wall, no doubt,
Your missing penis-bone astounds!
Aside: I have one query, here,
Did you find her little heart?
Was it dappled red, and did it beat?

Tag

"Here you go." I handed one of my partners
a pear. I had conquered it five minutes before
at morning market.
"How was this morning's run?"
"A few young ones were gone quick,
like normal. The bird was a bit later than usual,
so its got a head start. I saw one middler who just
got unlucky." I winked. I avoided apples.
Everyone went for apples. I liked pears more anyway.
"Bravo. Anything special?"
"Pulled a loaf and a beer, we'll split 'em."
"A month tomorrow, man."
"I know, little worried, I've heard when you're not it
for enough time, you run out of something you get
every time the bird picks you up."
"What happens then?"
"Dunno, scared to find out though."

Somebody must have Fucked a Crone

Gnarl-skinned, knocked up,
and wither-scrying to earn,
ennui-combat-boots and trailer-trash
flame encrusted head.
Clutching cans of whatever,
Three white periods end, or interrupt
her gently widening smile.

Blindness, Deafness

This is water, W-A-T-E-R.
This means what, her eighteenth?
This hat, it's menswear.
This light! Unbearable!
This man's overweight.
This land, your land, mine.
This time, with your left hand.
This kind of work is tiring.
This stark portrait, in it
This lame beggar prayed that
this day would be his last, saying
"This, too, shall pass."
This tall glass, should I?
This court should respect
this common right of people.
This population, third-world, caused
this unexpected economic push.
This revolution ousted the corrupt.
This beast generally behaves.
"This," she interrupts, "seems absurd,"
This disappearance, find the cause.
This color cannot be the one for
this room, forty by twenty by twelve.
This loud noise won't be tolerated.
This pillow goes well, though.
This ugly mug. You don't like
this rug? No, that's fine, I said
This mug, this M-U-G.

Seven Men Read Newspapers in a Field, Circularly

Line by line, each one's eyes
slowly rolled over stories.
Undulating like the weeds
and greenery they sat on,
floored perhaps, by terror
or boredom (or fatigue, who
knew that endless back-and-
forth well enough to tell?).

Crumpling, rising, for a moment
they lost their loneliness but,
being far too late to fall in love,
had to return (remember, shoes for
the baby) home. And a lucky flower
sprung up and so pretentiously
claimed the land they'd kept.

Best-Case Scenario

I woke up this morning
and my penis was Batman.

I considered it a best-case scenario,
much like if you had hit the lottery
or defeated all comers in skill-
related tournaments. Like winning,

I woke up this morning
and my penis was Batman.

I had left the phone off the hook
the previous evening. No calls,
no calls, please. Not while the
precious cocoon on my midsection
is waiting, and, success!

I woke up this morning
and my penis was Batman.

Complete with cape, gadgets,
mask, batmobile, sidekick boy
wonder and general flair.
What more could a twenty-two
year old man desire but to
lose all his misperceived faults
in, saying this:

I woke up this morning
and my penis was Batman.

hey dude, look

dude, hey - hey, what?
dude, what. yo, hey:
hey you, dude. dude,
what: hey, what. Yeah,
hey. dude, what the.
hey, what the hell. dude,
hey what the hell. dude,
what the hell. say what.
yo dude, look, dude. what.
yo look, dude, what the hell.
hell, look dude, say what.
fuck, dude, what the hell.
what the hell, dude, fuck.
fucking hell, dude. what the
hell. and fuck, dude. Hell,
dude, what the fuck. give a fuck
don't you. why? why give a fuck.
you don't. fuck, why? fuck why.
I don't give a fuck. fucking hell,
why? you don't give a fuck? why?
I just don't give a fuck.
don't give a fuck, what you say.
hey dude, look. dude...
hey

You, Coatlicue

You
left too,
Coatlicue-
undressed and blue-
in plainest view
were made so new,
filled with dew,
and rued
few.

Ars Poetica

(I lost [count)ing in the den,]
(a long [time) made short work of what]
(ago, [might) be lasting affection.]
(we start [again), I'd left to]
(please? Try not to [be) entertained]
(angry, I'm [in) my mind, drawing]
(a daze and could use [some), kind of butterfly.]

Conjecture

When I was
four-colorable and green spots
(new) went undesired
we threw them on golden
sheets and slept in fire,
(red,yellow,orange).

O three-cycle, how can you not be
only blue and black?
With gentle necessity, you've said
"No" to white so many times I can't
believe I'll live without
this wavelength. Light-determined,
mauve and melancholy, our edge
dissolves and you're all-fine.

But which hue must become (or disappear)
should I choose to leave the plane?

Stone

A grizzle-man, bare, unkempt and blue-ragged
shoe-tied, grinned with rot-teeth, and slowly paced.
Raising hands in his thought-flood to idea-lift,
He gave his voice a name. Undone, the one-man
knee-fell towards me and offered me a stone.

Meditation in Silver

And light, man or water felt
unkind. His slight internment
left us subtly rearranged (For eyes)
and lost. I, you, left fingerprints,
breath on glass and ink. Presuming
all my innocence, your left hand
draws my right and lifts an eye.
Possessor, loving me is no choice; perhaps
here we die and say, together, and in time:
I was once, or I once was.

Hymn

May I keep you
close, O Lord,
since I have
no eyes
to see
a soul.

Might we, sheep, to
lose, O Lord (and)
whence, die knaves.
So sighs
do free
our lowe.

Say (it,) lie, (and) sleep. Fools'
doses, O Lord,
fence night (and) cave,
unwind,
new real(ities)
although

A day seeps (in) to
fuse, O Lord.
Hence, my have(n, you,)
too fined,
decreed
my soul.

Decision

Heaped, untilled,
I halt construction for
elegance. Briefly, untied
(and subsequently content)
I
count
to one.