Ah, but the pity is that poor Vincent could not have survived on the meager sales of his dark paintings without financial support from his brother Theo. He did not readily accept impressionism but at last gave in and began focusing on pointille' or pointilism. He began losing his mind (probably from alcohol abuse, syphylitic insanity, and other mental illness) about the same time he began producing what are now his most famous works of art. This was about the time he moved into the "yellow house" as well. One of the paintings painted for the yellow house is entitled The Poet; of Belgian painter Eugene Boch. I have a nephew who is a painter and in meetings among the artistic gatherings of his friends, I am often questioned if I am an artist. There are musicians, sculptors, visual artists (his girlfriend is a dollmaker) and various painting tecniques represented at these gatherings. I reply that I am a poet and usually they fall down and worship at my feet. lol This was humorous, mock pedantic and mock bourgeois in a self-deprecating mix like Cyrano de Bergerac making sport of his own nose in the play by Edmond Rostand. A great deal of fun.
REally enjoyed this as well. Just finished reading your Inside Joke. I like the style in which this was written, I enjoyed the satire and metaphors it is layden with. Well done.
Marvellous stuff. I've just read your coffee poem... This one turns me on more because of its sustained vigour. And as far as I am concerned a poet can be as grandiloquent as he wishes as there is joy in dancing with words and watching another poet do so. Never apologise!
Very intelligent, and normally I don't go for the spewing of big words in praise, but you were doing it mockingly somewhat. Very clever, and I didn't see boosting more than I saw an intelligent display of explaining why you are a poet. Good write!
I like the grandiose style of it. I love the big words. And the hint of sarcasm. There are some little mis-spellings here and there. Clean them up. It will be that masterpiece when it grows up.
Ah, but the pity is that poor Vincent could not have survived on the meager sales of his dark paintings without financial support from his brother Theo. He did not readily accept impressionism but at last gave in and began focusing on pointille' or pointilism. He began losing his mind (probably from alcohol abuse, syphylitic insanity, and other mental illness) about the same time he began producing what are now his most famous works of art. This was about the time he moved into the "yellow house" as well. One of the paintings painted for the yellow house is entitled The Poet; of Belgian painter Eugene Boch. I have a nephew who is a painter and in meetings among the artistic gatherings of his friends, I am often questioned if I am an artist. There are musicians, sculptors, visual artists (his girlfriend is a dollmaker) and various painting tecniques represented at these gatherings. I reply that I am a poet and usually they fall down and worship at my feet. lol This was humorous, mock pedantic and mock bourgeois in a self-deprecating mix like Cyrano de Bergerac making sport of his own nose in the play by Edmond Rostand. A great deal of fun.
Wow that was just a master piece like Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa!!!! i loved the great use of words i even had to look up a few! You did a wounderful job with this! Very passionate about it! I am so glade you wrote this so I could read this!!! Great job!
hmm..you seem to expose my love of anagrams here..random dote? just a hunch..[=
hahahaha..something told me to read this..and I had to look up 14 words..ha. Good use of integrated sarcasm, bordering on accrimony..i used to use that word on my friend Andy all the time..cause he was; and he, ironically, never bothered to look it up, cause he didn't want to know that about himself..he was no dummy. He'd read Dostoevsky and can program computers..but that one word confounded him.
Getting back to the piece, though..You embrace the fact that we must overcome stupidity, but w/out being pretentious..which is a stupidity all it's own.
My prose, for a time, was a bit like you describe, but in a sense the oposite..mostly it was just pulling out fallacies from my subconscious..I'm going for transcendance and coherency more so now. It's all about the flow of the living word, no matter the actual words you choose. It's how you express yourself and put yourself into it, weaving the patterns and paradigms..the essence of the thing..personally I like to throw people off, by fusing simplicity and complexity..it pushes limits. If you can't push limits [in yourself and others]..then what's the point?..but you know all this..just trying to validate
well, you're a genius..i'll be reading more over time..be sure of that.
I like how it roamed, the poem took you more than one place while remaining in a similiar mood, the voice never changed. I enjoyed reading this, there were lines that stood out more than others, I wanted to highlight and paste them but then there were too many that stood out in my mind. Lovely poem.
Bravo, mon frere! Simply amazing. The rhythm you maintain in the lines is gorgeous, the varied vocabulary something to be envied. This is one for my favorites!
oh, but it is indeed a soliloquy. well, i was sorta going for a style akin to French poet Andre Breton's styl minus the surrealism hence the not so common choice of words,but hey, you can't please evrybody!
but thanks for your honst opinion, really. this is a great deal of help for my poetic advancement.
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