Waxing Lyrical

I toyed with the idea the very first moment I set eyes on the blog, but I chose instead to tuck it away in the mental filing cabinet reserved for Moments of Sheer Boredom and Boliao-ness. Quite simply because I understand poetry to be highly personal in nature - most people I know who write stuff keep it to themselves (or share it with people close to them) for obvious reasons - highly personal, emotionally charged, fear of embarrassment, what-have-you and what-have-you-not.

Upon opening my friendster page (now solely reserved for sating my curiousity when searching for particular invidividuals), I saw my bulletin board flooded by a certain girl's spam. Does friendster have a Delete Friend function?

In hindsight, life ought to have the flexibility of a Delete Friend function. Or a Delete-and-Block. That'd be useful.

Anyway, I saw this certain post which read:

"N___ C___'s Poetry Critics Welcome"

Look, i've seen the lady's poetry before, because I felt an inexplicable surge of curiousity one particular night which ergo led to my visiting her friendster blog. It was then, I must admit, that the seeds of writing a scathing and personally amusing critique first crossed my mind. However, as all gods ought necessarily mete out occasional bouts of mercy to their subjects, so it was that I chose to abstain.

I can be Friendly, Understanding, Caring and Kind too, you know. Somehow i've never quite tired of that phrase after what, a decade? Childhood memories are precious pieces of flotsam in the undulating oceans of existence. See? I'm waxing lyrical.

Anyway, without further ado, here's the nice trash you'll have to put yourself through to reading before I can carry on any further:

"Torrid Laceration
Overwhelmed In Peril
Heinous & Bestial Assailment
Heartless Counterblow
Pulling Forced Against Me
Define Woebegone Creatures
Vanishing Within Minutes
No Commiseration
No Extenuation
No Forgiveness
I Mean What I Say

For those who has brains to decipher the poetry..
by all means..
critic :D"

Mmmm. Absolutely fascinating. Well then - i've got a working set in the cranial department, so here's my take, alright?

"Torrid Laceration
Overwhelmed In Peril
Heinous & Bestial Assailment"

Very clearly this depicts a rape scene. I mean, how else can it be read? Obviously she was raped by many, many men in an extremely bestial fashion. There's really no other way to read it, unless you're blind enough to claim this's some fine work of metaphorical sledgehammering... Sorry, no braille here - close current window and never return to this blog again. Thanks.

"Heartless Counterblow
Pulling Forced Against Me"

Again, the analysis of this is clear - she obviously tried to fight back, a la some scene from a badly shot Japanese porn flick (my knowledge is vast and all-encompassing, and that's why I know this to be true - don't ask, 'nuf said). Granted, this might not have been so straightforward had it not been for the opening lines of this (ahem) 'poem'. No problem, ma'am - You're being horribly violated, and we're crystal clear on that! You go, girl!

"Define Woebegone Creatures
Vanishing Within Minutes"

Now, this's a tough one. Wretched creatures doing a disappearing act - within minutes, eh? I'll take a calculated guess and put the smart money on... Well, there isn't really a nice way of putting it, eh? Just think of plenty of mayonaise going down the hatch.

No arguments? I thought not.

"No Commiseration
No Extenuation
No Forgiveness"

Hrmmm. No sadness, no justification, no mercy. Once again, supplementary evidence that this entire poem is about... being raped. Jeez, the racy topics they come up with these days - and to think poetry might be construed as a reflection of one's inner being.

"I Mean What I Say"

For your sake, I sincerely hope not.

There're more... interesting ones which I didn't pull up. Why? Because the sky is blue and the grass is green and it's fucking 4 in the morning, that's why. Anyway, point made - do NOT spam my fucking bulletin board (or the boards of the poor 600-or-so other souls who listed you as a fiend friend, anyway.

Stupid biatch.


Your Greatest Poetry Admirer,
Administrator of Poetic Justice
Cheok