anthropapoligising

October 7, 2009 at 12:02 am | Posted in poetry, writing | 14 Comments
Tags: ,

the ridiculous is despised
of hallucinating (surely) Adamson on
Vain Parade, saying i hope

to assert this as true, ridiculous
or wish to be observed this way
even if just by myself

the ferry ride at night is a gorgeousity
the boojwahsee if nothing else
build beautiful houses and the
lights are poison

Ganges Street, I must be mad walking
from the ferry over to Ganges Street as
if Adamson had anything to say
to me

the owner of the gallery bar
wants to be a published author
of authority he is young and thin
maybe understands anthropology
evidenced by the sign
‘do not touch the art’

i wish i was huth could just
ify a long poem of photography
the truth, a jeweller vietnamese

the taxi driver who angers me
with sir and yes sir he is a
Sikh how did we enslave thee

i am insane, the nones
the nuns who say there
are no coincidences especially not
names paul squires and this is
11.00 pm and it is Brisbane and
poetry is pretence

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14 Comments »

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  1. For some reason I feel that I am glad I ain’t Adamson :)(no that I can claim knowledge of whom he is)

    but, since I drove you crazy too, take my scientapology…

  2. I’m gonna change the spelling of pretence to pretense, or not. Pre-tense, the poet as anthropologist, apologist, to write a poem is to create a fiction, hence pretence. I know this poem will be misinterpreted, should I reverse engineer it, Derek Motion style? It was not Robert Adamson having dinner on Racecourse Road (Vain Parade) as I walked to the ferry, it was another old man with a shock of unruly grey hair saying to his beautifully manicured young companion, “I just hope he doesn’t shut up now.” I could swear this is true but there is the complete unreliability of memory. Should I stop writing about the boojwahsee as if they exist? Afterall, traditionally they pay the poet’s bills. And from the ferry walking to the venue, thinking don’t be ridiculous Squires and realising I was literally walking on Ganges Street, West End, the river of spirituality and an Indian taxi driver. Where is the dentist? She is late and my mobile phone is running out of batteries.

  3. Saw you in Breadcrumb Scabs, Mr. Squires, along with a certain lady who enjoys medication. Have ordered your issue and now you’ll be on my bookshelf twice!

    Okay – so I was feeling inspired -and I took the last line of each stanza of this poem and read it as a single poem (I do that sometime – deconstruct a poem to find a poem within a poem) – and Squires, it worked! Maybe it’s the whiskey talking, but look:

    Vain Parade, saying i hope
    even if just by myself
    lights are poison
    to me
    ‘do not touch the art’
    the truth, a jeweller vietnamese
    Sikh how did we enslave thee
    poetry is pretence

  4. Why does this poem make me feel wistful and sad? I must be mad.

  5. so intense paul, like an electric storm with a bolt of lightning through the window hitting the figure at the typewriter. the motion as reading it, alive and powerful.
    the kind of thing that stays that way too and stays with u after, much appreciated,
    thnx

  6. ah,ok -Robert Adamson.I sense this is onnected to a dispute I am quite ignorant off…
    But it is still an amazing poetic rant…
    Misinterpreted? Well poetry is pretence -fiction- travel in an imaginary realm – and since each has a perosnal travel path in the realm of personal imagination… but that is what makes it all more amazing…
    for example, I like Bryan’s suggested path…

  7. How strange. I get the impression people think this is someway a criticism of Robert but it is, in fact, the opposite, as in why would he bother talking to me? Why did he become a poet when every one knows it is the dumbest career choice on earth?

  8. It is always good to read a poem set in Brisbane – ‘gorgeousity’ is a lovely word and Vain parade is perfect. These type events do my head in, turning my thoughts into a thousand rapidly firing bullets – I avoid for my own sanity. They appear to bring out the poetry in you so that’s useful.

  9. The ridiculous, me, the vanity of calling myself a poet and saying that poets should have something to say other than self-description, ridiculous, the whole thing,#

    The ridiculous, me, the vanity of calling myself a poet and saying that poets should have something to say other than self-description, ridiculous, the whole thing,

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This
    #

    It requires ridiculous vanity to be me and to assert that these things are true.

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This
    #

    That language contains actual magic and that time is not linear. That there are no coincidences and that through dissolution of the ego one can find a constant stream of almost miracles.

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This
    #

    That without genius there is no creativity and that cynicism is fertilizer for facism.

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This
    #

    To be observed this way, the poem is observing me.

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This
    #

    And all the facts in the poem are true but the poem is not a truth, huth, nor is it a metaphor, it is a fiction, an imagining, and we imagine the world into being.

    Comment by Paul Squires — October 8, 2009 # | Edit This

  10. Paul, your work is beautiful and inspiring, always.

  11. Thankyou. I am babbling a bit at the moment, Harmonie. Getting some work while I can, then I’ll come back and edit and start submitting again. I don’t know why, this is the question. But hearing from amazingly brilliant creative passionate honest and incredible people like you might have something to do with it. That would be Ego, is not a dirty word,

  12. I loved the whole story poem lament pyrotechnics :D… This one is very special to me Paul, for it was a double deja vu, too much to be just coincidence, damn life sometimes 🙂 … 1, the “do not touch the art” do you read the Onion perchance Mr.Squires? and 2, “the nones the nuns” i did the exact same thing, damn, so THIS is where i got it from,

    thank you and sorry! i should make that my signature 😦

  13. This poem is filled with gorgeousity (love that word!). I also love the snark of “don’t touch the art.” 😉

  14. Loved reading this Paul. These lines:

    the taxi driver who angers me
    with sir and yes sir he is a
    Sikh how did we enslave thee

    blew me away…


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