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Introduction To Post-conceptual Poetics(2)

conceptual poetry is not like poetry but post-conceptual poetry is more like a poem of immortal death-death reflecting the happening of death.At the same time death or concept or conceptual metaphor becomes a butterfly flying into the textual eyes of the reader, reflecting and analysing the post -death death, poetics of life which can only be grasped by changing levels of realizing energy of focus on the combination of truth-condition and satisfaction-condition.This is the ghosted identity of post-conceptual poetics in the 21st century digital-culture raising hunanity in a surversive way.

poem by Nyein Way
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Introduction To Post-conceptual Poetics(3)

conceptual poetry is not like poetry but post-conceptual poetry is more like a poem of immortal death-death reflecting the happening of death.At the same time death or concept or conceptual metaphor becomes a butterfly flying into the textual eyes of the reader, reflecting and analysing the post -death death, poetics of life which can only be grasped by changing levels of realizing energy of focus on the combination of truth-condition and satisfaction-condition.This is the ghosted identity of post-conceptual poetics in the 21st century digital-culture raising hunanity in a surversive way.

poem by Nyein Way
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Restaurant fragments

That day we were in Burgundy’s
and somebody played the notes
of “Ballade pour Adeline”
on the piano
and it was peaceful in that restaurant
while a waiter brought the menu
and I ordered a bottle of white wine for you
and drank a glass of golden Hunters.

You were busy with your notebook
and were searching for a shopping list
as if suddenly it had disappeared
but everything was inter-textual
and our life played out in small happenings.

Much too quickly the time between us
was running out
so as if you already
had other greener pastures
and you were busy with the list

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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~ Biopsychic ~

~ BIOPSYCHIC ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
27 February 26,2010

[Humble submission: BIOSPYCHIC … not used in textual concept…word coupling Biopsy + Psychic = Biopsychic…careful reading will make it clear.~ niv]

Floating silvery clouds
Vocalize vibe in me
Fragranced rummy zephyr
Flutter booze bosom
Youngish splurge spring
Ooohing nerve tentacles
Azure sky oozing smile
Concert of fragrance.

Everything seen
Appears matchless
Tumultuous blood
Horripilate embrace

[...] Read more

poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Light Verse

Light verse can lighten with precision,
diminishing the gravity of laws
that weigh us down with indecision
by snatching humor from depression’s claws.

Inspired by what John Updike wrote in a critical essay in The New Yorker on Max Beerbohm on March 7,1964, excerpted in the February 9 &16,2009 edition:

Our mode is realism, “realistic is synonymous with “prosaic, ” and the prose writer’s duty is to suppress not only rhyme but any verbal accident that would mar the textual correspondence to the massive, overflowing impersonality that has supplanted the chiming heavens of the saints. In this situation, light verse, an isolated acolyte, tends the thin flame of formal magic and tempers the inhuman darkness of reality with the comedy of human artifice. Light verse precisely lightens; it lessens the gravity of the subject.

2/9/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Memory Of Absences

Memory of absences can sear
the unforgetting mind far more
than presences of power we revere,
and images we can ignore.

Inspired by the phrase “memory of absences” which Robert Alter used in a talk to the Association of Jewish Studies in which he spoke about the collective memory of the Israelites that the Deuteronomist inspired. Alter used the phrase “memory of absences” and highlighted the importance of the Deuteronomist’s rhetoric used to advance his program to purge Israel of all images.

Robert Alter’s response to the poem was as follows:

Dear Gershon,

Your poem is the highest compliment that could be paid to a lecture. One question: is 'that' at the beginning of the third line a typo for 'than'?

Cordially,

Bob Alter

He had picked up a typo that I had missed, signs of a great textual scholar!

[...] Read more

poem by Gershon Hepner
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The Penalties

A beautiful loss
is still a loss,
a beautiful mistake
is still beautiful.

It is the rules of the room
that still define you,
it is the things that we do on our own
that betray you.

From the council estate
to the London art squats
that fill in the textual background ~
feeling numerous
writing can be poisonous verse
almost plural
at your funeral.

Your disparate profile networked in the window
like a ghost or a girlfriend,

[...] Read more

poem by John Denny
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Shadows On The Road

Shadows fade into nothing
after days weeks months
spent walking hitching talking.
To people to unknown people.
To chance met chance greeted strangers.

Shadows fade into nothing
as you walk ever further down fated road.
A string of shadows; uniform lean; lamp-post silhouettes;
fade upon momentum approach, individually, singularly.
With sun aligned unity creating chance met shifting shadows.

Shadows fade into nothing
in illusive life nothing lasts ultimately.
even memories fade into shadow
places people come go eventually expire.
sharp transient pain signals momentous quick goodbyes.

Shadows fade into nothing
So much to see

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Epitaph III - Parody Chidiock TICHBOURNE 1558_1586 Elegy and Thomas KYD

My little space no trace may leave behind,
My little base, - whose clock must soon unwind.
Why little haste? When discontented mind
reproves the race of shadow-shapes unsigned,
when worth and mirth too soon are undermined,
to earth returned, - with nobody to mind.

Our passing tresses, jesses just a while
play gesture-jester, jest at Fate’s swift trial
where sentence executionary the smile
aborts, deletes, erases: goodness, guile,
find no reprieve, with self to reconcile,
before Time tells of span unprotractile.

The sentence-execution’s always known
instinctively from crown to funny-bone.
If bridge between birth, death, we hold our own
then where lies sense, or there sense lies: once sown
the blossom sees one sunrise then is blown,
Time makes short shrift of deist cornerstone.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Cock and The Fox

Thogh brutal beestes be irrational,
That is to say, wantand, discretioun,
Yit ilk ane in their kindes natural
Has many divers inclinatioun:
The bair busteous, the wold, the wylde lyoun,
The fox fenyeit, craftie and cautelous,
The dog to bark on night and keep the hous.

Sa different they are in properteis
Unknawin unto man and infinite,
In kind havand sa fel diversiteis,
My cunning it excides for to dyte.
Forthy as now, I purpose for to wryte
Ane case I fand whilk fell this other yeer
Betwix ane fox and gentil Chauntecleer.

Ane widow dwelt intill ane drop they dayis
Whilk wan hir food off spinning on hir rok,
And na mair had, forsooth, as the fabill sayis,
Except of hennes scho had ane lyttel flok,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Henryson
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