Tuesday, May 03, 2005

post-lang po meta-jack bruce said...

I wouldn't want to post a comment in a post that meta-critiques meta-language and meta-bullshit, but...

"Faith in the idea that faith in text that critiques some snark that asks a series of rhetorical questions about a post that meta-snarks with regard to the proposition that meta-language and rhetorical questions are bullshit is total fucking shit, wouldn't you agree?"

8 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

There is more poetry in good pyrotechnic prose -- fiction or nonfiction -- than there is in most experimental verse.

I'm tired of wasting my time on stuff like "langpo." There are too many other things to do with my time.

8:02 AM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger steve barron said...

But what does the poetry snark think of all the hot new trends in rad ecriture such as langpoo and poe wang?

Surely even using the cute nickname "langpo" qualifies one for a braining.

9:27 AM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger R.C. Bald said...

But what of those heralded & rightly eternal values? What has come of beauty, friends, that we insist upon its trammeling at the hands of formal gymnastics & petty intellectual geometries? Is our poetry become so cerebral that we must let the sweet sad sentiments of yore fall under a freshly unrenderable definition of verse? O the beloved nightingale! O, gone is that music, friends! Let our poems again explode above the orange clouds of the Hong Kong sky like so many fireworks!

9:35 AM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger Snark said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11:00 AM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger Snark said...

To Barron I say, lang poo is snark snot, and poe wang is bo-rang. Poe Wang Chung, however, holds promise to redeem the future of the art by allowing everyone to have fun tonight.

To r. c. bald, I say, Hong Kong revivalist poetry makes we want to poo poo all over your platter. You must have vertigo or something. Go back to Austerlitz, nerd.

11:06 AM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger R.C. Bald said...

Dear friends, I seek not a revival of Hong Kong verse, but a revival of its very ethos to be sure! Its celebration of life's very intricacies & wonders! Yes, yes, friends, I am an old man & perhaps your insults are well-levied & measured against today's greater tides, & if it would open one young man's eyes to Beauty I would an armada of poo poo platters swallow forthwith. What do you seek in your work, friends?

1:53 PM, May 03, 2005  
Anonymous Dr. William Phelps said...

"The hyacinths
birdcages and my
(distant)
love lies
beyond the stacks
of a thousand
beauty's-born
boats in the harbour,
boats born
boats asunder under
(love's)
distanter flower
distanter than time
distantlier, O distantlier..."

Gerald Thurmond, "Abroad," 1988

If we concentrate on the frayed, lossening strands of the final era of Hong Kong expatriate verse, I do think we see it beginning to come to terms with its tradition through a complex and emotionally charged method of textual practice, a method that might hold some refuge, O irascible snarkers, from the solipsistic tinkerings of contemporary experimental verse. The traditional English elegy finds itself fractured, displaced in space, through a kind of Celanian refabrication of the poetic texture. But these fissures, of course, find themselves deeply tied to expatriate displacement in general. Do they fall into an unfortunate orientalism? At times, perhaps. Mostly, I'm uncomfortable with the term "Hong Kong revivalist" to speak about how one would necessarily incorporate these texts into a contemporary poetics.

Here's another section from Thurmond that might be instructive:

"transparent auto
mobile this bouganvilla tele
vision advertises what
to get you I need
to get you. I needs
of glass a junk of reeds
the flute they forgot
you are unreachably
foreign and undocumented
marvel to western"

&c., &c., ...

4:35 PM, May 03, 2005  
Blogger steve barron said...

I only wang chung when no one's watching me take these broken wings and learn to fly again.

But that's just me.

2:42 AM, May 10, 2005  

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