Cocoon

Transforming theatre into art, hey Glyn, hope you are well, pogue ma hone, ska ska ska, hahah,

Theatre of dreams/transforming art into sporadic bursts of surreality 

nailing poets on the cross as jesters sing and pray

burning barricades/corrupting critics

Dadaism in dance/sculpting movement sound with silence added

                            /juxtaposed

to chaos confusion fog, a hybrid of extremity sparks the intellect

minimalist

absurdity

eating through your brain/a kaleidoscope of energy, bouncing nothing bounce

conveying abstract in concrete thought un-real-tea/sing the madness of the soul

and change the unchanged/pave the way to half tasted lands of bizarre  burlesque views

the taboo of art/scatology regurgitate the fusion/spit the spirit free

art is but

a canvas

/to destroy lurking fears … deconstruct the Nihilist  of thought for situation is in place to blow away

the ghost of all we hope and all we fear and all we have to say/but speaking without sentence

of images and thought with soundless vision paintings/sanity is brought from discarded shards imagined

a tapestry of fools weaving magic for a while to simulated applause/scarred retina remains subliminal anarchy

deposited while you slept

BOOM1

colours explode/a pageant of fantasia where's the sky as normality takes a spin/walls are moving

                                                                                                                           /who invented madness

and who let me in

seven voices sing Macbeth/reverberates inside lost the reason of the night but smiled, amused, enjoyed....

                   … now spend a penny across the page

and sacrifice the norm, unexpect the expected on a whirling dervish ride/a roller coaster of eternity

with patternswide and free/the dialect of informality running from the scene/a bacchanalian wank of

ART

over art

transforming theatre into dreams

performing

reforming

annihilating lost cause

the spotlight calls my name

think                /

                                   don't think

                        enjoy

annoy

receive

the light we gave

now clap,

you fuckers,

I thank you

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' ... BOOM1
colours explode/a pageant of fantasia where's the sky as normality takes a spin/walls are moving
/who invented madness and who let me in seven voices sing Macbeth/reverberates inside lost the reason of the night but smiled, amused, enjoyed.... … now spend a penny across the page and sacrifice the norm, unexpect the expected on a whirling dervish ride/a roller coaster of eternity with patterns wide and free/the dialect of informality running from the scene/a bacchanalian wank of ART over art transforming theatre into dreams performing reforming annihilating lost cause the spotlight calls my name.. '

In other words, forget logic and thought,adjust your minds, readers. Watch me and hear: I walk my own path, I am my own island, understand or not, I am Master Mixer.

Really?

Exciting read.. crazy thoughts that, after what seemed to be an eon..were near tongue in cheek and bravado !

[gram linski]

thanks for reading emmajoy, glad you liked it, there is a shorter poem called Transform theatre, named after and about a group of performance artists I did some shows with, many years ago

[Eilis]

Well, since you thanked us fuckers for clapping, I suppose we must be grateful. Haha.

I’ve read this one about a hundred times but I feel mystified by it so I never say anything. Ok, I’m probably exaggerating with how many times I’ve read it, but I’ve read it a lot.

It feels like when I was a kid and got tricked into going on a terrifying roller coaster that was also indoors in the dark. My brother and sister told me it was just a straight ride, and then when I got inside it was too late. It was like walking into something with no idea what it is and having every single sense stimulated at once and not knowing how to respond.

I definitely thought of Patrick Stewart’s Macbeth which is quite dark but also surreal. Madness amplified. But, this lacks the menace. Just brings the intensity.

I’m a theatre junkie, though I usually only go to amateur shows. I love the local companies and the ones made up of people who act on the weekends or whatever. So, I loved the way this kind of emulated that atmosphere for me.

Still feel mystified by it, though. Sort of feels like the point. Smoke and mirrors. Or maybe fog machines. Very cool poetry thingie, Gram.

[gram linski]

haha, thanks Eilis, this was definitely am dram, performance art style, it was a kind of sketch poem of an actual show, and then after the after party we all went back to work, my part involved a digeridoo, a wah wah pedal and a naked girl dancing in a latex balloon while we projected words and images onto the moving undulating screen

[barleygirl]

This is brilliant: "art is but a canvas to destroy lurking fears … deconstruct the Nihilist of thought for situation is in place to blow away the ghost of all we hope and all we fear and all we have to say but speaking without sentence of images and thought with soundless vision paintings sanity is brought from discarded shards imagined" . . . and so much more! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

Thanks Margie, you're basically reciting my own poem back at me, thanks for your great review, lol

[barleygirl]

Better to keep my spew to a minimum than to reveal the depths of my foolishness . . .

[gram linski]

haha, is that an Oscar Wilde quote,

[barleygirl]

Would that be the raggedy "Oscar" who brews moonshine up on Long-gone Ridge?

[gram linski]

lol, aye that sounds like him,

[Robert Trakofler]

Holy smokes Gram! People say my poems spin... yours just got me turning dizzy with a slap across the face after passing out just left of stage right or was it vice versa nevermind I'll regain my senses (what little I have) this was a thought flow of colors and feeling and the theme of grab the lines and hold nevermind the context just feel permeates the page into a spontaneous combustion. This is great and it is fun i'm gonna go find some dramamine:)

[gram linski]

haha, thanks B, some great descriptive prose, your poems definitely spin, good luck miming some of those, lol, just noticed you typed in mine and not mime, will leave it in anyway, cheers,

[R.E. Ray]

It’s appears you exploded from the “cocoon,” gram. I read this twice, and maybe because I’ve been reading more about Picasso, I saw this as a Picasso-like poem. You’ve deconstructed what we know and rearranged images and thoughts to create an original work. Our minds break free, and if this poem succeeds, each reader should interpret through their own eyes... as I see it.

[gram linski]

thanks Ray, used to do a bit of performance art in my youth and this was a sketch poem of one of our shows, for my part I had a Didg player who could also do Gregorian chants and a wah wah pedal, haha

[Einstein Noodle]

"now clap,
you fuckers," ......... do you mean abstractly?? :))))))))))))))))))
E.
ps. title drew me in ... concepts of art and thought and dance and who sets the defining boundaries??? lots have been written on it hasn't it?! ... i think all abstract expression is cemented in meaning ... even if it is just bullshit ;) ..reading "Cocoon" has got me nog a bangin' the walls .. great title!

[gram linski]

xoxoxo E, you and j. have got this exactly as I sublimely thought at the not time, lol

[Einstein Noodle]

love on ya gram ... its a mad mad mad mad world :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Ferlinghetti wrote a poem called "Constantly Risking Absurdity"which this reminds me of...
"performing over the heads of the audience" and yet...do we?
or are we just abstract, meaningless bards who sometimes sound good, sound deep and yet what we write is just a hodgepodge of disconnected thoughts....that don't add up to a bucket of ....well.
yes, they all clap...it is the polite thing to do...
and then express...
"gee, you're so good" when maybe they have no idea if we are or aren't"
and don't know enough to get their money back for a performance with a severe lack of substance---
damn, gram...i love this one. i am clapping.
made my day.
j.

[gram linski]

haha, thanks, j. didn't think anyone would have a scooby but you and Einstein have got it spot on, great minds seldom differ, no wait simple minds...
being at the wrong end of performance art, ouch