10.5.08

Invitation to kiss a prince

Here I sit gathering moss.
Come on girls, don’t be at a loss:
Bring the prince salvation,
release him from ancient damnation.
One little kiss is all it takes –
your life from now on will be champagne and cakes.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Totally Optional Prompts is all about transformation – just like this picture and text accompaniment.

9.5.08

A stylish entrance

I liked the ornamental quality of this entrance in Stuttgart-Ost.
Posted for "Doors" at Inspire Me Thursday.

8.5.08

Cautious human maybe

As a cautious
example of the species
you won't be nauseous

But maybe
just to be human
you should act like a baby

at times, and taste
strange stuff -
until you have enough

– Felix Morgenstern

Advice with the ingredients cautious, human and maybe from 3WW not to be taken too seriously.

3.5.08

Why coffee is good for you

BlogFriday's word of the week is stupid.
The word made me think of this magnet
I've had on my fridge for years.
I still like my coffee as much as ever.
I've done some mighty stupid things
in my life, some with amazing
speed and energy.

– Iself

1.5.08

Blessed ignorance

I wish I weren’t so ignorant!
Then I would know lots more.

I might possibly be less arrogant,
knowing what and what not to ignore.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Written for BlogFriday, where the weekly word is ignorant.

Was wär er, trüg er heißeres Verlangen?

Na, vielleicht der Autor eines heißeren Gedichts als der folgenden platonischen – pardon platenschen – Saga von den mysteriösen Anderen, Jenen und gar gefährlichen Schützen:

August von Platen (1796-1835)
Was will ich mehr, als flüchtig dich erblicken?
Was wär ich, trüg ich heißeres Verlangen?
In welche Netze würd ich, wenn ich hangen
An deinem Auge bliebe, mich verstricken!

Was will ich mehr noch, als ein eilig Nicken?
Es würden deine Worte mich befangen:
Vom Schützen wird ein Vogel rasch umgangen,
Wenn mehr er will, als an der Kirsche picken.

Wohl mögen Reize, die so ganz dein eigen,
Den Wunsch der Sehnsucht in den Andern wecken,
Sich dir zu nahn und dir ein Herz zu zeigen.

Ich werde nur, wenn Jene sich entdecken,
Vor deiner Schönheit huldigend mich neigen,
Nicht eine Silbe soll dein Ohr erschrecken!
Ja, in welche Netze hätte er sich da wohl verstrickt! Wir werden es leider nie mehr erfahren. Denn diese Netze wären vermutlich ganz interessant gewesen.

Dieses Gedicht gehört von der Thematik her zur Shakespeareschen Gruppe Viel Lärm um nichts.

Nicht eine Silbe hat unser Ohr erschreckt,
das hat der Autor wohl bezweckt.

– Iself

Empört über die schofele Kritik oder gar angetan von Platen? Titel dieses Klassikers sind im Buchhandel oder Online-Buchhandel, z.B. Amazon, erhältlich.

selbst behand lung

beim blättern in einem band
deutscher dichte seit fünf
und vierzig

hatte ich vor eins zu wählen
das gut mir gefiel

nur passte keins zu meiner
stimmung des moments

so dass ich fand ich müsste
eins schreiben in kleinen

lettern und nur mit wörtern
mit nicht mehr als zwei

silben um etwas anders zu sein
zur kur und zum ziel

– Iself (© 2008)

30.4.08

Ignored on poetry highway


Beware of the emptiness
of poetry highway

Millions of poets
are on the road unnoticed

Waiting for the occasional
reader trap

– Iself

Occasionally given to the feeling of being ignored on the highway. Written using the three words empty, ignored and highway, today's gift from 3WW.

26.4.08

Ode to one who loves her sleep

Do not tamper with my temper,
she said,
never wake me up
when I’m asleep in bed.

Men a lot braver than you
have tried,
with the result
that I had their hide.

My temper when wakened is like
the wrath of a god,
it scathes, it burns,
it kills at a wink and a nod.

The wounds I inflict
with my nails run deep.
Therefore do not, I repeat,
wake me up when I sleep.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Once again I could not resist a prompt from Mad Kane, this time for temper, temper.

Click here for the Morgensterns' collected literary crimes in English and German.

25.4.08

Field theory, breathing and projectile verse

The other day, while dusting my shelf, I came across Charles Olson’s Selected Writings and started rereading his essay (if it can be called that) on what he thought poetry should be like.

I’m not very good at remembering abstract details, but I recall a few of his keywords, such as field, breath and projective.

Once again I feel compelled to illustrate theory to myself by practice, i.e. by living it.

The following poem practices everything Olson mentions.


Three Breathy Fields


FIELD 1

It is an open field, unhindered by obstacles.

Not even a cow projects from it.

(Actually, I should remove the periods at the ends of the lines to achieve openness, and it surely won't hurt to move the subfields or breath units about a bit)

It is an open field, unhindered by obstacles

Not even a cow projects from it

FIELD 2

Here I practice breathing. Everything I write should be spoken in one breath. It should be spoken without breathlessness, however. Since that’s a double negative, I’ll put it positively: It should be spoken with breathness. Still with me in the same breath?


FIELD 3

Is like Neil Young’s field of opportunity, where "it’s ploughing time again"

.
.
.

This field is left open for your convenience, to plough things in, under or over. Fill it with breath, openness, projectiles, whatever. But remember not to damage the screen in front of you.

This ends today’s occupation with Charles Olson’s projective field and breath theory. Perhaps I shall return for another lesson soon. Await it with baited breath.

24.4.08

Relief for ED patients

To all those suffering from ED (Excessive Dishonesty), primarily politicians:

Do not despair! This new drug has helped Mrs. Clinton and is bound to help you:

Click on picture to display full size.

22.4.08

About my favorite color

My favorite color is red;
on chilly nights I wear
red socks in bed.

When it gets warm outside,
I take my bike out
for a ride.

Its color, as you might have
guessed, is red
cause that’s the best.

Red also rhymes
with daily bread;
it’s what we pray for
and what keeps us fed.

My grandpa’s car is red,
and what a life that man
has led!

In winter red is very good
because it is on
Santa’s hood.

Some roses are red,
and those are said
to best impart
the love in one’s heart.

To make my color poem full:
please do not wave
red at a bull.

– Felix Morgenstern (© 2008)

Posted for Colorful Poetry at The Miss Rumphius Effect and Color at One Single Impression.

A picture of health


Strapping – sapping –
succulently muscled –
well-padded

– Iself (© 2008)

Written upon instigation by Mad Kane's Healthy Verse.

Notes
This little ditty demonstrates that it is possible to write using exclusively adjectives and adverbs.
The picture shows Jeffrey Hudson (Lord Minimus, 1619-1682).

21.4.08

Ancient Wisdom

If the terrain is rough
but you need to get across,
look for a gap in the rock.

– Chief Glory Horse

(aka Iself)

This ancient wisdom was retrieved in response to the request for literature with “gap and/or rock” (Two for Tuesdays IX).

20.4.08

My favorite triumph

My favorite kind of triumph is
neither military nor literary.
It's British, old-fashioned and
esthetically very pleasing.

Writers Island invited contributions on the topic of triumph.