Thursday, November 06, 2008

The End Is Near

Hello spam poetry readers! For the past month or so I've been working with a music group called Right Speaker Heavy as their lyricist and vocalist. The band sounds great... but I sound like an old man (which makes sense). I have some friends translating and reading the spam poetry posted here in other languages for the band. My proudest moment so far is having one of the shorter poems on this site translated into Urdu!

My goal is to have 120 spam poems posted... so far, I've got 12 more to go. Stay tuned!



Friday, August 08, 2008

Opening the vagina (Live life to the fullest)

On cosmopolitan at soil - that comprise with backyard in my construction to misconception - in spicy bimonthly have bikini or boots go in psychiatrist explanatory magnesium to reorganize,

      so august by wolfram,
          so immerse be unzip,

at afield particle to annoy that hostess and advertise it by descend.

In drawback wicker emblem, or by rectify elasticity physiology, his countless fever margarine as rugged that rhyme knitting secretarial realisation to pump speech, bespoke challenging clinical in no seventeen frontal as clan announce saline fiesta mischief cartography.

Be anchorage subdued undesirable, disappointing. Forward plus peck no tray meant at socket rumored of insomnia that bonnet prod Nazi or collection as my induction involve no professionalism stole.

His intention on generosity at pretend was likelihood at the augment in flammable latitudes it peso as the interstate of acorn is downright the dinosaur.

Not counterfeit as defective in fear.

No, no breakup. A primer to thaw nitric melt underlie it metropolis in displacement. But do ejaculation monies polyester as risky fundamental in boobs?

Fight for your self-perfection and quest or go fanatic, fantastic to temporal. Distinguished acquisition in lotto commodore accomplish rally liberty!
       - Fu Baolu

Best known as the only athlete from the Republic of China to qualify for the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin, Fu Baolu (April 20, 1910 – January 10, 1946) led a desperate existence as a man caught between several violent and unforgiving worlds. Fu’s mother was a servant in the northern provincial prefecture of Harbin during the end of the Qing Dynasty. No records indicate his paternal father, although council documents list his father as a “military official.” Forced into labour at an early age, Fu found little time for sports – yet the harsh winters in the Northern Province helped to develop his strong physique. With the fall of the Qinn Dynasty, Fu and his mother moved to a larger community where he was enrolled in school. Being much older than other kids in the same grade level, Fu was often given special attention by the girls of his class. He befriended a girl named Nao who (like Fu) was also a transplant to the larger community. The two became close and shared an enthusiasm for sports. Unlike other girls in her class, Nao was fiercely competitive. This inspired the young Fu to keep up and, over time, the two became strong athletes. Naturally, when the call arrived to their community for athletes to compete in a national game, Fu and Nao signed up. It is believed that during the journey to Beiping (now Beijing) for the trials, Nao encouraged Fu to keep a journal of events as Fu’s earliest entries (more like long dictation about scenery… most likely by Nao) start around this time period. Both qualified for the national team, but Fu had to return four weeks later as news was sent of his mother passing away. The two parted in 1931 and did not see each other again until 1935 when a new call for athletes was issued. Fu tried out and was again accepted. At this point, his journals start back up with an entry about reuniting with Nao. These entries differ from earlier notes as they take on a mature, almost lyrical note. Of special note, Fu and Nao would be playing in the 1936 Olympic Games representing the Republic of China (then, a country only 25 years old). With nearly all their athletes older than the country they represented, the newly formed Republic wanted to make a strong showing after a dismal result with the 1932 Games. Yet, no money was allocated to transport the team to Germany for the games… so each player had to borrow and work their way across the Asian continent. Of the delegation participating, only Fu reached the semi-final of his event with 3.80m in the pole vault (Fu had to borrow a pole as he could not bring one with him). The Republic’s one shot at Olympic glory was cast down when Fu was quickly eliminated during the finals. When the Games concluded, the team - broke, broken-hearted and thousands of miles from home – attempted to stay in Europe and earn a living conducting martial arts demonstrations. However, they were called back to their country within four months due to the invasion of the Japanese forces at Beijing and Tianjin in July 1937. Upon their arrival in Shanghai, Nao was immediately placed under arrest as it was uncovered that she was actually Japanese (her real name was Naoko Shirane). Her family had fled Japan during the Russo–Japanese War as their village was under constant bombardment. They took Chinese names and assimilated into one of the Northern provinces. No additional records of Nao and her family exist. Fu was devastated and his journal entries (albeit sporadic) were dark and discordanant. He was enlisted as an officer and witnessed several massacres at the hands of the Japanese forces. He was captured at the Battle of South Shanxi in May 1941. During captivity, he discovered that the captain of the guards was a relative of Nao’s family. When word spread about the relationship Fu had with Nao, both parties (his captors and his comrades) ridiculed and tortured him ceaselessly. He was given several opportunities for suicide, but he refused believing that Nao was still alive on the mainland. The entire prison camp was released during the chaos of the Changjiao massacre in 1943. Alone, abandoned and disillusioned, Fu retreated to the Huqiu Temple in Suzhou. He spent his remaining days sending thinly veiled meditation poems to cities across the continent calling out for Nao to return to him. Fu died from complications with tuberculosis in 1946. He was drafting a lengthy sonnet to the moon as a mirror of Nao’s sad eyes. Fifty years later, descendants of Fu’s family would slowly piece together his journals and meditations. Copies of his pre and post Olympic Game journals have been sent to the International Olympic Committee and Princeton University (our source for today’s post) while the originals are now kept with the Hong Kong Arts Development Council. Today’s poem is from Fu’s journal dated August 14, 1936. It was near the end of the Olympic Games in Berlin and the poem reveals the utter exhaustion of the team members, the confusion they felt in a strange land, the political environment surrounding the Games and his hope for the new Republic back home. Translation service for today’s post was provided by 編集 知影。


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Friday, August 01, 2008

Feel yourself fine and dandy!

I sense an enemy approaching.
I are sensing a danger!
ZOMG! I’m going to hurlz!

       I’m in ur house – waitn for victimz
        I’m in yer weddin dress, plottin yer divorce from jerkface.

Dear God… I can has cheezburger?
  Whaddya mean “Be the cheezburger”??
Halp! I not cheezburger!
Friez with dat?
Do not want.
I can has cheezburger?
Do not want! Thought I wanted, but no.
        For this… you die in your sleep.

Can it be hugz timez now?
    I must go. My planet needs me.
Look over there yonder!
Iz bird? Iz plaen? Iz cheezburger!!!1!
   Hi. I fall off ur roof.

I has a bunny!
It’s beautiful!
Is hesitating your offer.
Has run out of happy.
The voices are telling me to kill you.
I can kill you with my thoughts.
  I prolly can’t has cheezburger.

Snzzz… I sleeps now.
                Wait… what?
I saw what you did there.
My baloney has a first name, it’s nom nom nom nom nom.
Iz not so gret, aktuly.

Can I has world domination?
   Proceed.
Kthxbye
       - Saturnina Daphne

Those who have an affinity for the Dutch masters will undoubtedly recall the famous portrait of A Lady Writing (1665) by Vermeer. But who was his subject? What was she writing? To whom? Why? Had they known each other long? Ultimately, how did Vermeer come to select his subject? After countless hours of research (which has caused the long delay in posting) at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC – our site has discovered that the lady writing is none other than Ms. Saturnina Daphne (November 24, 1639 – September 22, 1699). Her family moved to Holland when she was 12 from the Southern Coast of France. They did not immediately enroll her in school but rather, they brought a nanny with them to teach and council her at home. This turned out to be a not-so-wise call as the nanny was very promiscuous (at least by mid-1600 standards) and chatted with all the neighborhood bohemians. By 15, Daphne had caught the eye of many artists, poets and alternative medicine alchemists. Yet she also kept up on her reading and writing skills in an effort to outwit her new found friends. By 1659, she was invited to join several French and English literary circles who would further challenge her writing skills. This culminated with a series of letters between Daphne and Molière, which were later turned into the theatrical comedy, “L'école des femmes.” In 1663, Ms. Daphne applied to the Prix de Rome scholarship, but was turned down. Feeling enraged and betrayed by her country’s literary society, she applied for and was accepted at the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture. Within a few years, she became intimate friends with Katherine Philips and moved to London to join a literary coterie. They collaborated on several short plays and anonymously published, The Wandering Whores' Complaint for Want of Trading. The drama became an underground smash hit but the thrill of their success would be short lived as Philips would die a year later from smallpox. Distraught over the loss of her friend, Daphne ventured back to Holland to recover with her family. An old acquaintance asked if she would be interested in meeting some of the up-and-coming local artists. It was at this pivotal meeting that she met Vermeer and agreed to pose for one of his paintings, which turned out to be A Lady Writing. The painting was highly regarded and pushed Daphne back into the literary spotlight. By the end of 1665, her poems were published in the newly founded London Gazette. Her new found popularity encouraged her to complete the works of Katherine Philips, especially the translation of Horace that Philips had been working on until her death. Several installations were completed, but all new work was lost during the Great Fire of 1666. Now homeless and penniless, all appeared lost again until English lexiconographer Edmund Castell (who counted himself as one of Daphne’s fans) loaned her a sizeable amount of money to start over. However, in 1667, Castell was jailed for being unable to discharge current debts, which ironically gave Daphne a free ride on the borrowed money. In 1668, she was contacted by John Dryden to help draft dialogues for An Evening's Love to be produced for the King’s Company. In 1673, Thomas Killigrew was appointed Master of the Revels at the King's Company and collaborated with Daphne on stage direction and casting for an all female cast of The Parson's Wedding. Afterwards, she focused her energy on publishing and editing important works from female authors in American and Europe. Two of her most notable efforts includes the UK publication of Anne Bradstreet’s Several Poems Compiled with Great Variety of Wit and Learning and an English translation of Dorothe Engelbretsdotter’s Själens aandelige Sangoffer. Her work with Engelbretsdotter’s book is highly prized among Norwegian literary scholars with a copy on permanent display in the library of Grieg Hall.


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Friday, May 30, 2008

how would i get into it that morning

Glamorous glitters on your wrist.
I missed.
And some of them are so esoteric.

I could not believe my eyes.
Bricks
Get laid over and over.

Give her womb a good massage.
Nothing is quite as satisfying.
I... felt like I owed it to you.

There will be no more games in the bedroom.
Virility paradise is here.
All your days of being laughed at are over.

Great cucumber is your wealth;
Wet and desperate for you.

Win all the time with this,
The key to fame and fortune.
Subject her to a punishing ride.
       - Pascal Menáce

A liturgical scribe from 1521-1538 with the Church of England, Pascal Menáce (March 31, 1499 – March 25, 1561) witnessed firsthand the transition of the Church from its time under papal authority to the separation from Rome in 1534 during the reign of King Henry VIII. While the transition was especially difficult for the clergy, many scribes felt liberated from the drab and tedious tasks associated with drafting daily devotionals. Our poet today would be included in that group and would later rise to literary prominence in other fields, but more on that in a moment. Initially, Pascal Menáce belonged to a tiny (but no less trivial) group of polyhistorians of the 16th century and, being an erudite, mastered Latin and Greek and was particularly fond of linguistic curiosities. Once the separation of the Church of England was complete, Menáce’s work began to flourish with his graceful yet working class approach to (what was once) complex, lofty devotional prayers. During this time, he created what became the most recited prayer by stagecoach drivers across the British Empire: "Ave Maria, plenus a venia. Succurro mihi reperio a ortus locus." He was then appointed to the editorial board for the King Henry Version of the Holy Bible (published in 1568 as the Bishops' Bible) where he took certain editorial liberties by inserting the phrase “Once upon a time” to Genesis 1:1. Having accomplished so much, and facing mounting pressures to create another smash hit devotional, Menáce decided to leave the Church and pursue other avenues of creative writing… trekking across Europe and exploring the major centers of commerce. During this time he befriended numerous artists and began writing poetry about the Nuremberg and Venetian fashion scenes. Studies of personal letters to his friends Dürer and Holbein reveal that Menáce believed his work was part of a never-ending crusade on those who persist in looking really unfortunate in public. Menáce was particularly excited about the bright colours, bold prints, and sassy looks evolving from the antiquated and (quite honestly) not very flattering traditional leather jerkins with doublets, hoses and codpieces. The big poofy blouses, gowns of light-weight silk over a bodice and skirt (or kirtle) and an open-necked partlet by the newest Italian designers were becoming all the rage, and Menáce was there to see it all happen. He also documented the demise of the severe, rigid fashions from the Spanish court falling out of favor to the fabulous Dutch with their tall hats along with brocade gowns with fur-lined "trumpet" sleeves and matching overpartlets with flared collars. As exciting and impossibly stylish as the Dutch were (at least to Menáce), their overpartlet designs would not survive as fashionable items in England. His poetic editorial on these tres amusant inspired countless populations to see clothing as a statement rather than a questionable function. And the shoes... my God the shoes! Menáce’s poems translating Oriental foot binding techniques inspired designers to view the regime as a means of encouraging aesthetically narrower styles. Again, the Italians dominated the market with their fabulously exciting new selections that screamed attitude. To wit, today’s post is from a review by Menáce on a new line introduced by Milan’s Pattini Negozio. Un autre réalisation: Had he been alive today, Pascal Menáce would have savored the ultra fab and classy shoes from Mephisto, the sexy craftsmanship of Ferragammo, or the supple au courant lines by Allen Edmonds. By the end of 1550s, our featured poet had achieved another high mark in his career, heralded as a most subversive fashion writer of the decade. His final work (published a month before his death) was a prophetic pseudovérité incursion into the world of the burgeoning Parisian haute couture. The largest known public collection of Menáce’s poetry is on permanent display in Florence, Italy at the headquarters of The House of Gucci.


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Friday, February 29, 2008

the acne notice next january

There small another know with five.
Together play they large parts about food country it.
Help hard parts after time write her try.
Against or place did big only of why think knew.
Hand no several last that give do almost they.
To man was you.

Tell also change point toward.
Animals today earth these sentence go land.
Set day on any.
Once need head whole next best also kind.
They with was before.
After who different things since under back place.

      Feet better heard point left once their.
      Were land night let those place earth kind have.
      In near has know against change one.
      These give what same him may there after also.

Days since find men thing days across while high who.
Head let high hand.
With back himself across.
Then tell thought next get between me being.
Back thought began feet.
       - Maritsa Vanderwesthuizen

Although not a published poet in the traditional sense and yet revered as a major influence on Western Philosophy while concurrently notable for her contribution to the field of glass blowing and notwithstanding her accomplishments in crafting modern culinary strategies for potato latkes and frequently cited among scholars as the driving force behind determining atomic weights and numbering, Mrs. Maritsa Vanderwesthuizen (November 13, 1862 – September 23, 1939) will always be remembered as the maniacal, fun-loving, dare-devil aunt and mistress of Ludwig Wittgenstein. The canon of her work is comprised of one poem in nine parts written predominantly in anapestic tetrameter over twenty-three stanzas often with related couplets or triplets. The poem was written over the course of Ludwig’s mother’s pregnancy during which Vanderwesthuizen was engaged as the midwife and family terra cotta sculptress. After Ludwig’s birth, Vanderwesthuizen flung the pages of her poem around the drawing room, picking them up in a random order. Years later, when she would read to the young Ludwig, Vanderwesthuizen would randomize the order of the poem to encourage his abandonment of empirical explanation for linguistic description. Today’s post is from her singular epic poem ("Nie mehr zu frueh kommen?") and is a translated version from the new Polish text published in 1974 by Golden Chao Press.


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Tuesday, February 12, 2008

fight frustration with this but customize your win

Take what your water long.
Before me picture number life study thing.
Best hard will high.
We land few them got land.

Under animals play this than a.
Let be too above take her.
With five paper tell.

Will father far life told second better.
Into world light today large a word night.
In do can sound back life again.

       - Marisela Marisela

Apologies on the lateness of this post as biographical information on Marisela Marisela (September 22, 1827 - ? 1878) is scarce and scattered. What I have uncovered is that her full name (via a poorly archived facsimile copy of her birth certificate) was Marisela Rhys Marisela - although she never signed her full name, even on official documents. She was born at Cumorah Hill in Manchester, New York to parents of German and Spanish decent. Their names are illegible on the certificate due to a crease in the paper where the names were written. She developed spasmodic dysphonia at an early age (~ her early 20s) and was treated (according to visitor logs) with various holistic medicine applications at Hot Springs, Arkansas. She married Confederate Major General John Austin Wharton before he moved to Texas... not after as some records indicate. Upon his death, Marisela Marisela moved to Memphis, Tennessee to be with Major General Wharton’s family. She lived in a small two-bedroom house on what remained of the Wharton plantation and would frequently visit the rural areas of the region to provide help for recovering families. She composed poetry and plays as entertainment for the children to help them forget the mayhem and destruction caused by the War of Northern Aggression. A collection of these poems was published in 1869 by East Tennessee University that included works by Henry Timrod and Paul Hamilton Hayne. This would be her only published work while she was alive. Medical records at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center show Marisela Marisela as one of the thousands of people who died from yellow fever in the Memphis area in 1878. Unfortunately, there is no date as she passed away in a rural clinic and was transferred postmortem with hundreds of other tagged bodies. A posthumous collection of her writing was published in 1894 by the University of Tennessee Press. This book (titled You Told Me That You Will Reply Back) collected additional poems composed during the final years of Marisela Marisela’s life. The book also contains a collection of journal entries where the poet transcribed the rambling hallucinogenic delirium of yellow fever patients. Her transcriptions were so intimate that the Archives of General Psychiatry referenced them nearly 50 years later for an article on Cotard's syndrome [Arch Gen Psychiatry. 1945;2(4):133-138]. Today’s post is from You Told Me... with copyrights secured from the Library of Congress Poetry and Literature Center.


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Tuesday, January 22, 2008

hope you feel better soon tomorrow

Look each took top above air soon things point.
Form too today men this boys again never.
Home in on today.
That next show than something.
So also went called me important light old.

Got say back means around hear.
Good mother most important called year saw.
Thought miles a far would.

Big different look been.
Play all paper people with into far people take.
Like sentence looked this.
A below who means hard name.

Several them men who better want sentence went things school.
Being go very because do called give.
Small should since all was last.
Far with those did those after saw little.
Also again can day.
Never then if learn.

Set had keep also large.
Time feet several saw began.
Off picture paper should.
High can through give parts time these find.
       - Lilyan Tashman

The Jewish-Armenian silent film actress Lilyan Tashman (October 23, 1899 – March 21, 1934) is best known as one of the tragic icons of the silent film era; however she composed poetry as part of her private journal writing during the last few years of her life. It all started after filming completed for the comedy "Girls About Town" (1931) in which Tashman plays a yenta who falls for a yutzi goym instead of the balebetishen yidden (a real hamisch) that her lovely mother has picked out. Her mother, feeling chaloshes over her daughter’s actions, decides to consult the neighborhood balmalocha – he’s nice, but also known as being a little meshugass. The mother, ungepatched and fahklumpt, cries to the balmalocha about her little yenta. Taking pity on the poor woman’s shpilkes, the balmalocha decides to send a shiksa from an Italian neighborhood to cut off the goy’s shmeckle. Oy vey! The mother – realizing the old man is indeed meshugeneh – runs off to find her rabbi. The rabbi turns out to be a very sensible man (L’Shem L’Shem L’Shem) and shleps over to see the little yenta in person. Hilarity ensues when the rabbi nearly plotz as he sees the little yenta patschkieing with the dirty shlemiel. The rabbi yells out, “Gevalt geshreeyeh! You are turning to a meeskite! Shande Shande Shande!” and gives the little yenta a spanking on the tuchis she’ll never forget. The little yenta runs back to her loving mishpachas, marries a nice hamisch recommended by the neighborhood shadchen (thus, making her mother absolutely kvell) and everyone sings “Vos vet zein, vet zein!” Anyway, after Tashman had finished this movie, which turned out to be her last major film appearance, she was diagnosed with cancer that left her bedridden with pain and sadness. During the long hours of treatment, she would pull out a little notebook and compose prose to help pass the time and ease her suffering. Her journal was not discovered until after her death by her husband Edmund Lowe. A year later, he arranged to have a small selection of prose published in the newly renamed New York Post, with a majority of her writing remaining unavailable. Only recently has interest in Tashman’s life resurfaced with today’s post taken from a soon-to-be-published biography that will include pages from her journal as well as a DVD compilation of her silent film career.


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SPAM IS POETRY