naturalism

Unknowing Escapists

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unknowing Escapists 

 

 

 

Death, ..not proud—So sleep!

...dreaming of thy softer skin

—Thee—objectified!








Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited on 07.19.2019, 07.18.2019, 07.17.2019 (On clarifications, disambiguation, misspelled/mistyped words, grammatical/semantical errors):  Upon reviewing my notes/comments, I could not help but notice something that I had to revise.  I have edited that something in my Author's Notes/Comments, for some time, yet I had not been able to update and indicate those in the former reedition (I may have forgotten it).  Some of my previous grammatical/semantical errors were corrected/edited; but that had also lent itself to being still erroneous after I had found out about the others/another, consequently.  Those were the scruples which I had, i.e., in noticing/not noticing/ignoring an unedited/missed part, i.e., of a sentence (that was erroneous & that which was consequently omitted.)

 

The idea behind this practice poem is certainly not an allusion to John Donne's famous line or to his poem, although it sounded like it—in fact, it was sort of in my head before this was done (I do not know about his poetics until later on, after doing this).  But the usage might easily denote such notions or concepts which you might have in mind already (a correlative or a relation/association to this).  The phrase first came to mind while I was in my first few steps of composing something (which I wanted to pull off in the creation process alone & not necessarily done while visualizing my supposed ends).  That might/could be dangerous if it was Magic.  I did not know what had prompted me.  It does not necessarily end up as I supposed to have wanted it to come off (in that it was not my endpoint, to think about it).  My orientation is/was not in that specified way, as for most poetic styles &/or semblances with each poems that are rather perceptual (aside from being already conceptual).  Generally.  It is a moot point to take note of the circularity of such philosophical arguments (e.g., especially at this time) which I could have done with the rest of my haiku adaptations during the last.  I kept on feeling awkward at using haikus in the first place, or for taking on the minimalistic Japanese approaches/styles (& the use of blank spaces), just to go about such particular pieces of "literary work".  I especially connote my written English aside from my own thoughts about the subjects (&/or objects) that comprise the 'denotata'/'designata' at the moment.  Besides, if you might want to really know about my objectives, you may outright realize that these would be my test pieces or guides for mapping out my whole understanding of Language.  I just hope that this note's real message (real intention) comes across and becomes well received in conjuction with the poem's explanation/history/reason/etc. as in the other author's notes/comments that went before this.

Mga Insektong Kinakain Ng Mga Hayop (in Filipino/Tagalog language)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mga Insektong Kinakain Ng Mga Hayop

 

 


Oposum, unggoy

Garapata at kuto

Pagkain nila—








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The Smell of Bog

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Smell Of Bog

 

 

Old ways, olden days

Can it impart wisdom now?

Peats, earthworms, rhizomes—

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited 07.17.2019 (italicization of a phrase "Old ways" in the first line of the poem), 06.26.2019 (misspelling of occurring, a single "r" in occuring was changed to occurring):  



Once more, I've come up with a practice haiku to reflect upon something naturally occurring.  It may even be seen as rather banal (and/or clichéd) that it might sound as if drawn out from a science textbook explanation.  However, if you like the natural sciences (or if you are in love with nature), then you probably have heard of boggy wetlands & seen swampy marshes.  Until then, I would suppose you could relate to this particular haiku.  My real reason for composing this is quite a private one, for it was coming from the sheer original intentionality of recording just another mental note (& its relevancy to me, hence).  It is definitely not an aspect of an autobiographical note, it just seems that I have slipped into a kind of a reverie, whereof I have contemplated on a "correlative" about the earth/soil & the smell of turd one night.  It is a basic assumption to an end to every supposed life cycle.  Which is why I thought of its gravitas, that despite being imminent in this correlation to the undoubtable reality of his or her temporal existence, that is a paradox in itself.  Therefore my poem, in this manner of a haiku, is intended to also be reflective of old age & the ageing process—& its trappings.  Yet due to the mysterious properties of time, there is always a particular wisdom that is being imparted or shared wherever/whenever there's an unwarranted rumination (such as this, whence).  Some could have referred to an event and equate it to indirect learning (versus a self-directed one); but, as to learning experiences, in the circle of life, if constantly passed onwards, every imaginable generation espouses the same kind of conditioned existence (as regards to Media Cultures and the whole of humanity).  It need not be a catechismal byproduct of a certain religious order because we are cultural products in ourselves.  Like, perhaps, looking intently at the prominence of our public intellectuals, with their erudition & elucidations (e.g., in their online presences in social media), the same could be my theme.  In one's own right, there seemed to be a historical perspective which is to be conveyed here.  My poem could also be a reminder that they, too, have once lived throughout their youth; for that reason, someone (or something) has to have also taught them something (or anything/about something).  It is a sort of a passed on wisdom.  It is a recurring process.

Trees On Here (First Haiku, ca. '19)




Trees On Here (First Haiku of 2019)

 

Raindrops have been drained

Taking things with it on earth

Life demystified









Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is just a first ever attempt at composing a "haiku" (a Japanese poem/poetic style or form, described as traditionally evoking nature—according to my mobile device's built-in definition).  It is, in fact, my first ever haiku this year (the year 2019).  The poem was meant to be an affected poem, since it was originally done with little clue about the Japanese mindset & was considered to be a practice poem batched with another similar poem (my first ever "tanka" composition: Trees In The Green).  The motivation for it was neither considered meaningful nor entirely meaningless, also (to be quite descriptive about its neutralist view of the whole process).  Not meaningful in that the metaphor might not really consist a significant/insignificant part among the majority of my entry posts; but just by virtue of, admittedly, trying to make this type of a poem for its objective praxis.  Therefore my compositional skills is on its experimental stages.  Please kindly bear with me.


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