dublinka

"Konkrete Poesie"
mit Bydgoszcz, Wien, Budapest, Bratislava, Szczecin, Almada
Verena - Wien

From the annals of the ever interesting Virtual Absinthe Museum, comes an interesting overview of Raoul Ponchon and his interest in Absinthe...

By far the most prolific of all absinthe-influenced poets was Raoul
Ponchon (1848 - 1937). Originally a bank employee, he quit his job
after his father's death in 1871, and set himself up at the age of 23
in a garret with the words "Painter and Lyrical Poet" written on the
door. He would take his breakfast in the Café de Cluny, then return
at 5pm for L'Heure Verte. The rest of the day he spent holding court
at various other cafés. Ponchon was astonishingly prolific, writing
150 000 verses, of which over 7000 were about food and drink,
including many dealing specifically with absinthe.

Here's a link to Citizen32, a poetry collective with ear and eyecatching publications. (Thnx p.c's.)

Melissa Powell, with her poem Poor Paris Hilton, has been giving her eponymous subject, a kicking while she's on the floor after her recent court case. For a sample, see two verses below, followed by quotes from her delighted audience - all keen to jump on Hilton's head from the moral high ground.

Poor Paris Hilton

Poor Pairs Hilton
She is going to jail
Judge gave her 45 days
To sit inside a cell

I bet she won’t utter those famous words of hers
“That’s Hot”
No more luxurious beds for a while
She’ll be sleeping on jail house cots

Posted By: AHShadowRai - on May 4, 2007
Very well executed! All the Best, Shad *^_^*
[ Request review ] Posted By: fairystar50 - on May 4, 2007
good expression sis
[ Request review ] Posted By: James56 - on May 4, 2007
Great write Melissa. I agree with you totally. She needs to go to jail and get off her high horse. unfortunately, i hear she is going to get house arrest.-James
[ Request review ] Posted By: Hope - on May 5, 2007
Yes she should get no special treatment and I hope she learns her lesson Hope
[ Request review ] Posted By: candycane - on May 5, 2007
what i don't get is she was driving while drunk...to me that is DWI..not alcohol-related reckless driving..i guess it pays to be a famous star...first offense or not...45 days is not enough...excellent write sis...hugs
[ Request review ] Posted By: hhazlett26 - on May 5, 2007
She is very lucky not to have hurt anyone that if for sure!! :-)Heather
[ Request review ] Posted By: mjsmith6533 - on May 5, 2007
What is it about rich people... "no one is above the law." "Especially the King!" - Dragonheart. Well written. Michael J. Smith
[ Request review ] Posted By: Mrs FAP - on May 5, 2007
BRAVO WITH THIS WRITE. I SEE SO MANY STARS AND STARLETS GETTING BY WITH SO MUCH. IT IS ABOUT TIME A JUDGE PRACTICED WHAT HE/SHE GETS PAID TO DO FOR JUSTICE. HUGS AND LOVE .. GRAMMY
[ Request review ] Posted By: starwest76645 - on May 5, 2007
Missy you go gurl... loved it... love **STAR
[ Request review ] Posted By: willowlableu - on May 6, 2007
Wonderfully penned. Take Care, Terri
[ Request review ] Posted By: Jacie Stralko Duca~ - on May 7, 2007
Hooray for the judge in this case.....Too may high flalootin rootin tootin celebrities have had it too darn comfortable. Ya wanna play ya gotta pay. Great write. ~Jacie~
[ Request review ] Posted By: ThePoetMe? - on May 10, 2007
Yes, I hope her lesson is learned from this. Cute write!

Sandford Lyne is a published poet. His work has appeared in a number of prestigious journals. He comes across as a nice person. He reckons that since 1983, he has thought poetry to over 57,000 people. He’s had cancer surgery and chemotherapy. For such reasons alone, I want to like his book… It’s titled: Writing poetry from the inside out. His publishers sent it to me…. They asked if perhaps I might like to review it and another book in exchange for perhaps listing them as recommended reading... And, of course, naturally I took the books…I’ll never say no to books…But in fact, the whole thing is an effusion of indigestible patronising schmaltz. What might come across ok in a classroom, is a mess on paper. Lyne’s book is about finding the poet inside you. I didn’t find one. I found an arsonist.

I suspect I hold in my hands one of the few copies in existence of David Mullan's La Chambre Des Voix. It's one of a very small printrun of bilingual aphoristic poetry, which I obtained from Mullan personally once upon a time. Perhaps the eighty's. I was in Paris, and having a last drink in a quiet bar, when I bumped into him and a French man who's name I can't quite recall. I think the man claimed to be Mullan's publisher or agent. We had a long talk about the ego, Freud and the Brain. At some stage, having mentioned my interest in poetry, Mullan claimed to be a poet, and brought forward the slim lowfi volume for inspection. I was impressed with what I read, and still like to look at it from time to time. I think the price was a couple of Francs, but he gave it to me at a discount. Actually I think I harangued him into giving it to me free with some sort of Marxist gambit. Anyhow, the night and the drink parted us. Since then, I've always been curious as to who exactly he was, and whether he had written anything else, but their isn't so much as a fingerprint, footprint, or mention of him or his work, on the net or abebooks. Was it a nom de guerre? Perhaps. Will I disclose its contents? Not yet. This is a happy orphan.

I just read an interesting story on Eurozine, discussing one of the players at the center of current Turkish unrest, Recep Tayyip Erodgan. It appears Erodgan was jailed in 1997 for reading a poem by Gökalp which incited hatred. The original poem it seems, did not have the lines that Erdogan recited and was jailed for: "The minarets are bayonets, the domes helmets, the mosques our barracks, the believers our soldiers."

Instead, Gökalp's "Soldier's Prayer's" first stanza translates as follows:

Holding my rifle in my hand, keeping my faith in my heart I wish two things: The faith and the homeland My home is the army, my sovereign is the Sultan Strengthen my Sultan, Almighty Give him long life, Almighty Our journey is our victory, the end is martrydom..

The poem Erdogan recited went as follows:

The minarets are our bayonets; the domes are our helmets Mosques are our barracks, the believers are soldiers This holy army guards my religion Almighty Our journey is our destiny, the end is martyrdom..

The problem with all this is of course that if you jail a man for speaking his mind, irrespective of how distasteful you might find it, he might, as fearful Turkish secularists are now speculating, some day gain power and potentially feel equally free to ban you from speaking your mind, etc.