Transparent flames
engulf my gaze.
Words trapped
in crystal smoke
choke on their
alluding heaviness.
Incented muffles
of the mind
emerge from their cave,
the mouth.
Charred and disfigured,
the expressed thoughts
stumbled into life–
too excited from
their release from hell
to be ashamed of
their awkwardness.
geeerk did the kritlyn word to the world,
unfzd by the people luffing on dem
little hore word cum work fer meeee hozbout
zed the gimp pimp becuz …hez ufruid
the rezt’ll get her ded…
I don’t understand your lingo.
Of course you don’t. And I’m too charred and disfigured to care.
butts in
Well… I hope you don’t mind if I help you guys out. Sorry if I screwed it up, or if it was meant to remain as it was. Sorry if my butting in is annoying. I was just touched and wanted her to ‘get it’.
Translation:
Strange words did Kristalyn speak to the world (words which are herself), unphased by the people laughing at them (unphased by their awkwardness). “How about you come work for me, little (which is a term of endearment) whore word (instead of revealing self/word to world)?” said the gimp pimp because … he’s afraid the rest (the world… or maybe that which chars and disfigures the words/self) will kill her.
butts out
Love your poem, K.
I feel really annoyingly nosy right now. I can delete it if you want.
Thanks somenewname.
Sorry…Ultimately, I don’t work for anyone but myself, especially never in the pimp sense you talk about.
here is what I see:
This is a metaphor for other peoples emotions which are seen by the persona of the poem.
Or,
This is a metaphor for the persona’s emotions.
Metaphor: Beautiful words, i.e., “crystal smoke,” are an empty example of the heaviness and depths to which the words allude.
This is just beautiful. The persona’s words are the incented muffles, which represent the persona’s experiences of the world – yet, they become “muffled,” in other words, poor substitutes, when they are manifested into words. The persona of the poem is isolated, unable to communicate from within it’s cave, from within it’s own self-enclosure.
little typo.
But the persona is no longer afraid to come out. No longer afraid to show others it’s depths – even if the words are a bit muffled. And what occurs? Connection, for the hell is the cave, the isolation, yet, what joy! What excitement! it is to finally come out and play.
What joy it is to see oneself from another’s, i.e., different, perspective.
This poem. . . . is giving birth – the persona is comming out through the poem.
“Birthing my words”
…the whore/pimp thing isn’t literal like in the old days. …you don’t work just for yourself – otherwise you wouldn’t have shared your poetry on ILP. Work for him means share your strange words with him…
You understand that what I wrote was a translation of what Gamer wrote, right?
somenewname, yes, I understand that it is your translation.
K, I loved the poem and was shocked by my response, which was anchored in imagery entirely of your design, but too obscure to be received. I was in a weird, new place for a minute, and I longed to witness you reject the grandchildren of your inspiration. “I ain’t no whore.” So perfect. I didn’t expect you to get it or notice, but I knew SNN would notice and try to tell you what it meant and you’d be resistant to comprehending it, and understandably annoyed of the drifting focus. A perfectly delicious and convenient division of labor all around. I also know how both parties will protest, one firm, one soft, but, I will try to forget long enough to feel surprised. Don’t we all?
Gamer, I don’t understand what you are talking about with both parties resisting.
What is “a perfectly delicious and convenient division of labor all around”?
Please do not think you know what I will do/say.
“Please do not think you know what I will do/say.” Ahhhh…
And the other…
“…” Ahhh. Pitch perfect.
Would you please specify what you are talking about? I don’t understand your last two posts.
I would be more than happy to specify what I mean. I predicted two protests. One from you, which would be straightforward and curt. Or “hard.” As in “Don’t think you know what I’m going to do.” Then SNN would have the “soft” protest, i.e., refusal to engage in what she perceived as obnoxious, presumptive (but annoyingly spot on) behavior on my part.
Is there anything else you need translated, or have you had enough crystal smoke for one thread? You are a prolific poet and you have improved continuously since I joined this think tank back in early '04. But you have blind spots. Are you simply too perfect for this world? SNN has no blind spots and while she is probably NOT too perfect for this world, she is more than perfect for quite a few other things, I’ve discovered.
You are both treasures. Well played.
Please don’t assume that you know me, espcecially my blind spots (I’m not too clear again on what you are talking about). If you can see whatever it is you think I don’t see, please enlighten my dark pupils!
I don’t “know you.” You have blind spots because you’ve now demanded explanation three times…explanation that many of my brothers and sisters here would not require. I assume this much…your god given powers of observation are delightfully selective. You are gifted at seeing your own pain in three dimensions, but like a woodland creature you lack muscle in the departments of sarcasm, wit and subtle social banter. I once thought your efforts were quaint, but now I see your verses’ splintered flights into the abyss may hint at the path to self knowledge many of us have been seeking lately.
I was in California.
Hey, if you’re saying I’m predictable – who isn’t?
and I knew you would say you knew after-the-fact, to make yourself look like you could predict the behavior of others…
…and you knew I would say that, … if I hadn’t been in California…
and not an honest one… I stopped short of my intuitive… gut-feeling… translation… I don’t feel it is my ‘thing’ to say, you know?.. however…
“I longed to witness you reject the grandchildren of your inspiration.” – and what better way to witness … than to aid in their conception (that sounds wrong, but you know what I mean…)??? Ah, but I feel I ruin it when I say it…
I can tell kristalyn (sp?) is a very strong character… or type… whatever… so… I’m gonna butt out now… but, I’m glad Gamer isn’t offended…
carry on… or whatever you’d rather do instead…
Then why did you even mention what you would later mention you didn’t want to mention what you had mentioned?
One step forward, two steps back?
I think you’re all nuts, and I hate poets with a passion. Bleeding-hearts playing hide-and-seek.
And the meters. Their all fucked up. My tongue gets twisted and by brain sneezes.
I don’t have a fucking clue what that poem meant.
You’re cool though, Kristalyn. Little advice, don’t get involved with interpreters unless you ask for it first. Ignore them. The only thing worse than poetry is the interpretation.
They’ll lead you on a wild goose chase: “I didn’t mean what I said the first time…but I still said it…'cause I don’t want to tell you what I really think. You know, gut feeling.”