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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 11 of 11. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Atticus on October 28, 2005, at 8:57:39
Child with a shredded red balloon,
Hears an apocalyptic tune,
Learns what life’s like a bit too soon,
That he’s heading for dreams in ruins,
He’ll never dance upon the moon,
On his tongue there’s no silver spoon,
Hard truths cloud Sunday afternoon,
He wobbles as if about to swoon,
Pictures his long trek to his tomb,
Pines for the comfort of the womb,
Leaves circles of footprints in the dunes,
Scores numbing drugs from clubland goons,
His days and nights are roughly hewn,
He never feels the sun in June,
Appeals to heaven for a boon,
God’s out to lunch, he left at noon,
Watches bruised skies turn maroon,
His thoughts on asphalt, lying strewn.
Posted by sal0805 on November 2, 2005, at 12:58:07
In reply to Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon, posted by Atticus on October 28, 2005, at 8:57:39
Atticus - just how do you do this?
Brilliant
Sabrina
Posted by Atticus on November 3, 2005, at 12:51:39
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 2, 2005, at 12:58:07
Thanks, luv. Honestly, I've no idea where the words come from. I'll usually make some observation while moving about NYC, and sometime later a turn of phrase or even an entire verse will sort of melt into my consciousness. I'll scribble it down, and if I look at it later and still like it, I'll build a poem around it. But it's that initial kernal of thought that provides the springboard for the tone and rhythm of the rest of the poem, as well as the mood. It's always so good to hear from you. Ta. Atticus
Posted by sal0805 on November 4, 2005, at 11:28:37
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 3, 2005, at 12:51:39
Well, while I don’t share your talent for writing poetry, I can sing and while it is not my own material, it is material that moves me deeply and always releases ‘something’ in me. I can’t really describe the feeling when I have sung a piece successfully but I imagine it would be akin to when you down your pen and you read your poem and you feel pride, and perhaps a sense of peace.
Sabrina
Posted by Atticus on November 4, 2005, at 15:01:39
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 4, 2005, at 11:28:37
That's a really interesting observation, sabi -- and not one I'd ever considered previously. But you're spot on about the sense of "peace" I feel (at least for a bit) after posting a poem that I feel is successful. Until the poem is out there, there's a sense of having something buzzing around in my brain that won't give me a moment's peace until I let it out in the proper form. It's all rather difficult to explain, but I suspect you already understand. Ta. Atticus
Posted by sal0805 on November 5, 2005, at 7:37:57
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 4, 2005, at 15:01:39
"but I suspect you already understand"
That is such a compliment for me. Thanks Atticus
S
Posted by Atticus on November 5, 2005, at 15:47:35
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » Atticus, posted by sal0805 on November 5, 2005, at 7:37:57
Ah, but it's merely the truth, luv. I tried to share my poems with my T -- to disastrous effect. He turns out to me a rigid linear thinker, incapable of "feeling" his way through a poem, and insisting on attempting to analyze it with a mind devoid of imagination as if he were trying to break a secret code. He told me I needed to "get past" the need to express myself through poetry and asked the question asked by all the world's mediocre minds when confronted by art: "Why not just come out and simply say it in a straightforward way?" I was stunned at this display of robotic thinking, and told him that there is no getting "past it": art is another language used to express that which is too complex to be wedged into a simple sentence. I also fired him. Atticus
Posted by Susan47 on November 5, 2005, at 18:22:41
In reply to Re: Watches Bruised Skies Turn Maroon » sal0805, posted by Atticus on November 5, 2005, at 15:47:35
Don't let any small-minded bourgeoisie rattle your cage, that idiot poor gaffer probably thinks he's clever too.
Posted by Atticus on November 5, 2005, at 21:52:09
In reply to Right Way to Do things, I agree Atticus, posted by Susan47 on November 5, 2005, at 18:22:41
Actually, luv, I suspect he understands that he is not "clever." I do not pretend to be a Ginsberg or a Dylan -- but I do not pretend to be a mediocrity, either. I may not be able to function in this sociopathic society that the human race has fabricated across the face of the world. But I do ask probing and disturbing questions about it. Any mind would find these queries disturbing -- a bipolar mind such as my own, already a fragile thing -- sidles up to such questions. I find them too terrible to face full on. What he is, in the end, is a bureaucrat -- and a bureaucracy is not an "entity" that holds up well under close scrutinization. I find that an irrational and absurdist world is best probed, ironically, by a worldview that accepts irrationality and absurdity as givens. That is why I evolved into the Cheshire Cat on another site. But a belief system that accepts a fundamentally disordered cosmos is not a popular or comforting one. My T actually gave me a Phil Ochs disc to play over the weekend. With all due respect to those who enjoy this musician's work, I found it utterly devoid of the magic and mayhem and world-weary wit that make Dylan's compositions so enthralling. It is, to my way of thinking, leaden and didactic without any redeeming aesthetic -- the singing of an accountant. Direct. Marked by flat and utterly predictable lyrics and lifeless attempts at melodic hooks. There is a reason that Phil Ochs has been largely forgotten while Dylan remains profoundly evocative and more relevant than ever, I came to realize as I listened. A human maelstrom met a human filing cabinet, and the result was predictably unsatisfying for both. My T's Ph.D. and my own provided no common ground. His dismissive attitude toward the poems that are so very much part and parcel of me doomed this fledgling relationship. If someone on PB doesn't wish to read my poems, he or she is more than welcome to skip past them. If I am paying someone hundreds of dollars for 45 minutes, he bloody well better make a sodding effort. He chose not to, so he has been dismissed. In this area of my life -- my creative side -- there is absolutely no room for compromise. Thanks so much for you words of support. I told him that, in the end, only others who share my struggle with mental illness have ever been able to grasp what I am attempting to communicate. It is a grim fraternity/sorority, but one with its own type of exclusivity. I have tolerated being condescended to in far too many areas of my life due to to my psychological impairments for far too long. I've had my fill of Philistines. Ta. Atticus
Posted by Bobby on November 5, 2005, at 22:25:24
In reply to Re: Right Way to Do things, I agree Atticus » Susan47, posted by Atticus on November 5, 2005, at 21:52:09
Don't let the Docs jerk your chain. I think your work(gift) is great---you are a deep thinker and I appreciate that. I hesitate to post anything close to your posts as I know they will pale in comparison. Anyway, that's my media heroin. We are planning to move to New York in a few weeks and I expect to see your work on the sidewalks. Cheers.
Posted by Susan47 on November 5, 2005, at 22:54:03
In reply to Re: Right Way to Do things, I agree Atticus » Susan47, posted by Atticus on November 5, 2005, at 21:52:09
>"Actually, luv, I suspect he understands that he is not "clever." I do not pretend to be a Ginsberg or a Dylan -- but I do not pretend to be a mediocrity, either. I may not be able to function in this sociopathic society that the human race has fabricated across the face of the world."
Well I'd have to say I think I understand what you're talking about."But I do ask probing and disturbing questions about it. Any mind would find these queries disturbing -- a bipolar mind such as my own, already a fragile thing -- sidles up to such questions. I find them too terrible to face full on."
Actually, Atticus, facing them at all is what is so wonderful about people such as yourself .. and me.. I don't care if anybody disagrees, that's their right, but I find me fascinating, hence I also find you the same.. embracing your own power and strength then being able to say yes, but I'm also incredibly weak, my god look at me I'm no different than the one I despise so much .. asking those questions is humbling, and acknowledging how difficult it was to ask them is acknowledging the power in yourself ...
"What he is, in the end, is a bureaucrat -- and a bureaucracy is not an "entity" that holds up well under close scrutinization (sic). I find that an irrational and absurdist world is best probed, ....." from there, Atticus, my mind went completely blank, and I can read and re-read what you've written and right now it means absolutely nothing. Do you know, I think I might be ready for bed ... my mind is becoming ... Red Dwarf mush .. what I wouldn't give for a funny episode of Red Dwarf, right now....
This is the end of the thread.
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