fvargo's profile

fvargo avatar
AGE: 47
LOC: Canada
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: February 07

A kind of poetic manifesto (& a tedious one at that) for me:
ESL!! English as a Subversive Language!!
I am trying to improve (I don’t know if that is the word I want) my poetry-writing, though I wonder why I bother.  At the same time it is a hobby--infact, it is not even much of a hobby since I spend so little time at it--I prefer to read others’ poems because they are so much more interesting than mine.  I don’t believe in bad or good poetry or poetry versus non-poetry. To me there is just either interesting or not-interesting  poetry.  I am certain there are lots of poems that are judged as good, but some of those poems to me are boring—consequently I don’t read them (or finish reading them) even if they are ranked highly.  For exam…

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Short Story / New found land
Version 1
5 Reviews   0 Comments
"My America, my new found land"--John Donne, Elegy 18 (?), "on going to bed" what ho what ho for the roast beef of jolly old england yells jenny greenteeth as she drunkenly weaves her way to the exit of the old salt tavern st johns nfld im jolly old beef i just turned 65 ive just retired now i can get drunk all the time but i would rather just go home to my bed and let the waters churn over me let me drown ive got waters in me & now i want waters over me home to bed & drowning a patron named ...
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Short Story / codswallop
Version 1
6 Reviews   0 Comments
where is the hot narrative action it is a fishing tour flyer there is no narrative captain graff lets rip a few choice expletives he sighs there must be some hot stuff cod on cod action you know or else tis boring sex sells you know raunchy descriptions that is what you need to liven up your prose im just writing an effing tourism brochure no fiction captain graff sighs again tis true no one reads fiction anymore or writes it dead art all art is dead though all that garbage in the galleries n...
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Poetry / yew thoughts
Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
the churchyard yew-- green ever fresh ever solemn meditating its own end ever--its own perpetual memento mori foliage's deaths-head wearing its own wreath steming eternity's wandering roots in an underground weave of branchy rings --each like a lover's bracelet of hair wound about your wrist-- twisting around memory as all memory dissolves to earth each grave pierced by each like needles veined to the same yew growing throughout the churchyard-- like death, eternal.
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Version 1
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Such stone seems in pact with moonlight to let its shine Firm clay into ripeness and endow with gleam That hardens past brittle youth. Light's calcine From ore, through time's vast crucible, appears to be spilt cream-- A fusion of moon with sandstone's fragile pasts whilst rock. But agrillite is star-refined; ancient, worn Light, at earth's birth, quicklimed drops which instead mock The moon they resemble, since lunar-born Beams sway, promiscuous of place, throughout the night Unlike this eve...
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Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
"Ubi sunt?" muse the grieving seas, black-clad And tearing oily drops over the surf, Its green and white and blue calmed by black, Its frothy, foaming gladdens sunk by sludge, Its joyous currents now brought down to earth And anchored there. Sea-birds, which delighted waves With capricious dives, now plunge through gloom And fix their final berths there--moorings shroud The lightness wings once shared at their sight-- And slick oozes sticky silence over once-fleet- And-singing breaths that sp...
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Depressing but effective--especially in the short lines that pack more punch that way. But I miss any sort of imagery--preferably original, startling imagery that may convey your message better or at least more memorably. Try reading Evie Christie's recent collection f poems, "Gutted". There are many poems in that book that deal with the same topic you handle here, but Christie does so in such a startling, original way with amazing imagery.
Perhaps your word choice could be jazzed up--it is good to be simple, direct, colloquial & thus seemingly powerful, as you do here, but... I know this is an imitation of the long-limbed Ginsberg (did he get his style from Whitman? Blake? the Bible? all 3?), but it seems to me to be lacking the detonations, the resounding echoes of his phrases--his power is missing because the expressions are too direct or typical of prosaic prose. Are there cadences here? Even prose in the Bible has a measure...
Witty--but is it a poem? Maybe you are using a Japanese form--I don't know those? To me true poetry has to have measure, but what do I know. Actually, it would be interesting if you did a series of short works like this one on Zen--it could also be educational as well as entertaining. Original & nifty idea, this "koan poem" of yours--keep the puns koaning!
Short Story / The Wicked Empress
Interesting story--though I found the "Darwin" name for the creator a tad obvious, though ironic. I liked the ending except maybe you could give an ironic kind of twist to the ending in a more detailed explanation of why God destroyed her--perhaps come up with something really ironic. I think the story has potential to be published in a science fiction or fantasy anthology of thumbnail fiction like those anthologies of very short fantasy & science fiction that Isaac Asimov used to edit in the...
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