Showing posts with label surrealism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surrealism. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Laughing moon

My seaward route recounts the night's mistrust,
declaims untruths upon the water wakes,
resounding the wind transmits my past
with demons prompting me to our mistakes.

They are my ocean pals! From dark sea depths
saltate and dance, attired like buffoons,
concording violins and brass trumpets
to gallivant around with looney tunes.

Meantime the stars, elusive, send their spark,
my pals essay in boats with wooden laughs,
discerning critics of our ghostly barque,
where waxen maids regale on moon's behalf.

Enchanting group! A theater folklore,
with drunk musicians and chords untuned,
ineptly smile with swollen lips to yore,
in front of a half-hidden laughing moon.

On empty quarry play guitar slack strings,
hoarse flutes, vociferous trombones and lyres,
my joker pals saltate in air and sing,
conveying to the moon their laughs and tears.

Expressing joy absorb my stare and thought,
with silver amulets and oracles foretold,
away they glide to destinations wrought,
where sovereign seas enfold the brave and bold.

Saluting me, a dancer higher jumps
('mid pandemonium tunes - on marble delf!)
and as the laughing chorus plays paeans,
avaunt he sails resembling myself.

29-10-2013 © Georgios Venetopoulos All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Chicken cot U.F.O.


It crossed the gloaming skies above the roofs,
in awe we followed its jazzy course,
mysterious would be the incensed spoofs
this disaffecting aircraft would enforce.

'Hmm...', we said! Abominable was the ship
deciphering trajectories in hum;
predestined to avenge our ego trip
the alien poulets would not succumb.

The chicken soldiers were a frightful troop
in pink-pistachio uniforms with spots,
and snotty-nosed bombarded us with poop
because our heads were destitute of thoughts.

The Alien ship was rounded like the moon;
each angry bird was using a stun-gun,
the land of origin of that platoon
(and planet) were most certainly to shun.

In order to appease the chicken troop
some started to recite their verse to skies,
confronting the attacking chicken group
poop poems they opposed to battle cries.

The angry war-birds listened to the verse,
indited by the stunned (and pooped) confreres,
their cackle was bemocking and adverse,
upon their heads they wore rouge voluperes.

This myth reflected what would happen if
extraterrestrial cots invaded Earth,
the chicken-soldiers in relentless tiff
would poop upon our writers of top worth.

poop = Poetry Out Of Place

2013-07-30 © G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
revised on
2016-11-30 © G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved


Πολλοί με ρωτούν τι σημαίνει υπερρεαλισμός και πώς αυτός μπορεί να εκφραστεί σωστά στην ποίηση. Τους απαντώ:
Ο υπερρεαλισμός είναι μια παρεξηγημένη κατηγορία τέχνης. Παρατηρήσαμε στο πρόσφατο παρελθόν ότι "ποιητές" αμφιβόλου ταλέντου, πνευματικής διαύγειας, ακόμα και ευφυΐας, βομβάρδισαν τον χώρο της ποίησης με αναρίθμητες άρρυθμες και χωρίς λογική ανοησίες, οι οποίες σήμερα κοσμούν τις ανθολογίες ποίησης σαν δείγματα "μοντέρνας λογοτεχνίας". Απορρίψτε τα κείμενα μαζί με τους συγγραφείς τους. Υπερ-ρεαλισμός σημαίνει κάτι το οποίο είναι "πιο πάνω από την πραγματικότητα". Δεν σημαίνει, όμως, ότι αυτό το "κάτι" πρέπει να είναι αφηρημένο, ανιαρό και ανόητο (χωρίς νόημα) έως βλακώδες. Οι αρλουμπολογίες των "μεγάλων ποιητών" μας, κατάφεραν να μετατρέψουν τον υπέροχο κόσμο της αληθινής ποίησης σε χώρο για αγραμμάτους και διανοητικά καθυστερημένους αναγνώστες. Απορρίψτε τους άφοβα και πετάξτε τα έργα τους στα σκουπίδια χωρίς ενοχές. Καλημέρα σε όλες και όλους.