from the fantastic patterns of dreams to the surrealistic behaving of reality

written in Dinglish (that's Germanic English)

N�rnberg, Mittelfranken, 2005-06-10 - 3:03 a.m.

Get your own
   diary at DiaryLand.com! contact me if you're a nice person, you can sign older entries newest entry







Bad Poetry Declaration

my writing in this diary doesn't mean to be poetry or lyrical. My english is too bad for that. I can express myself in english & I hope quite understandable. I use this as a valve for my emotions to communicate, to tell what I see, what I think, to tell memories, to just tell & or make fun of curiousities of daily life, to reflect, to point sometimes at things that are wrong in our world, tell my mind, but not the very secret parts - depends on the mood I'm in - my english maybe sometimes sounds funny - but I don't care - if Americans talk German it also sounds funny to me & I don't care.

If you do poetry then it's a piece of art - like a sculpteur you need fine chissels & have to know to use them well & have a clear vision of your goal. In doing poetry - words, idioms & language use are the tools you have to rule your word art expression perfectly well, to weave word & idioms by your vision to the pointed fragments of poetry you had in mind - each word in it's right position - afterwards you can oversee it & use your chissel of words - removing, changing & adding words to their final position - till you think - it's a fine piece of art work & exactly what you wanted to express. - In most cases (including mine) you could do that only in your native language, if you're expearienced & virtuous enough to use your words well. In English I am very unsure, whether my words are set well, feel clumsy & sometimes I have to use my dictionary & sometimes I'm quite unsure whether my sentence structure is correct, just awkwardly stumble my way along through english word sequences & patterns that flow through my mind & sometimes some of the words have another meaning, I imagine them to have.

So my entrys are not poetry, nor even try to pretend it - even in German I lost my sense for the fine words of poetry I once had in my youth & till I was about 26 - then cruel, sober life destroyed piece by piece my lyrical sense. Poetry is nourished by dreams, imaginations, a magic of the perfect theme - disillusion makes you doubt & you begin to mistrust any of your set words - Charles Baudelaire, who's poems, like Opium got since I was 24 in my mind, once wrote: "be always drunk, either by wine or by poetry" - Oscar Wilde wrote about, to make your life a piece of art & set the art-ificial life above the real - I think after 'jail in Reading' he had lost his, these illusions -

no - I don't have a lyrical mind anymore (my life later on wasn't lyrical enough), but I still have a true sense for it - you don't have to be a musician to listen to wonderful music & you don't have to be a painter, to be able to recognize eloquent art pictures!


I just tell, what's in my mind & come to the point & attack the lies & fakes in our world by the sting of the unicorn.

0 comments so far

previous - next

Mongolian hint - 2011-03-19
Intrigues about a perfect song - 2010-02-24
Iran would kill our foreign minister - 2009-09-28
Brandstifter - 2009-09-27
It's memolos time! - 2009-05-02

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at DiaryLand.com!