jon's blog

Saturday, January 12, 2008

how to link poetry and liver together in a single sentence

i've always attributed the same set of sentiments for both poetry and liver: a certain sort of disdain, accompanied with distasteful faces and perhaps thoughts such as 'What is this shit?' or 'What in God's name is this?' that was what i was prolly thinking of when my mother fed me my first piece of liver at the tender age of five. it was from a packet of mee pok (fish balls with flat yet curly noodles, sometimes with pieces of nondescript meat thrown in for added value) of course, i hadn't learnt modern day descriptive language like 'shit' back then, so words like 'eeeeee' and 'yucks' aptly describe what i must have been thinking. none the less, after twenty-three years of living in this good Earth, i still have not understood how people can bring themselves to eat liver and listen to poetry. it's admittedly, like cat food and bestiality, an acquired taste.

frankly speaking, i blame it on our education system in Singapore and its obsessive need to break down enjoyable 'O' level subjects into no more than ten-year series questions. you see, i've always enjoyed literature. this comes from a childhood of endless amounts of reading Enid Blyton and Encyclopaedia Brown. it wasn't till secondary school that i had a really inspiring literature teacher who constantly asked me cheem questions whenever i submitted my book review assignments.

there was this one time when i did a review of Tolkien's The Hobbit. it was nothing more than a fantasy novel to me, and a really good one, i must add. in the review assignment, i wrote about how i was 'thrilled to discover Bilbo Baggin's impromptu heroics despite the fact that he was involuntarily thrown into war'. when she handed me back the assignment, she asked 'So what do you really think about The Hobbit?' my young and unmoulded mind could only think of two answers to such a question: 'Ok lor' or 'Good lor'. i answered with the latter.

with a slight look of disappointment on her face, she then suggested to me, 'true, Tolkien did liken the story to the First World War, that's good. but did you notice that he also emphasized on the individual growth of Bilbo himself? and he contrasted that against the thirteen dwarfs that were with him.' i likened it to a moment of revelation, just a notch lower than enlightenment. from that day on, that was my 'O' level answer whenever people ask me about The Hobbit. 'individual growth' and 'WWI heroics'. i guess i was trained in such a way that providing a standardized 'O' level question to every question in the world, one could never go wrong.

so you see, literature which was a lovely subject worth studying was marred by education. all i could think about was how to present the literary text in question, in a way that gets me the most marks for my preliminary exams. how i can tackle the 'O' levels and discover the various themes throughout the text and the various ways the writers uses puns, metaphors and etc. alas, the 'O' levels never did feature poetry, just plays and classics. so the school had very little emphasis placed on poetry. we did do a quick run-thru of Wordsworth's Daffodils, but that was all. it's a pity that i never got to understand what the big hoohah is over the great poets and their works. i did try when i was twenty-one, but poetry seems to pale in comparison to plays and stories. the damage has been done, i guess. you can throw me 'The Raven' and i can give you a great wikipedia answer about its gothic roots and many parodies in modern day culture.

none the less, the reason why i'm suddenly writing about poetry in perhaps that i felt inclined to start writing a poem after something that happened in the course of last week. i had a fleeting encounter with an acquaintance of mine that lasted no more than three seconds at best. but three seconds are enough to get you thinking about the past and apparently, inspire poetry in me. so, here's the poem:

'tis an acquaintance of my youth
aye, in a corridor of life and death
paths intertwined for a moment brief
a faint proof of acquaintanceship didst crack upon our lips
and paths cross'd nary to meet again
never did i see
the grief beneath that facade of crack'd lips

this may come across as really bad poetry, and OKAY, it is bad poetry. like what in the world is that about cracked lips? and where's the rhythm and pattern? throw all the rotten tomatoes and organic vegetables you want.

well, just don't fling those pieces of liver at me.

posted at 10:05 am by the nurse | Permalink |

12 Comments:

This comment has been removed by the author.
By Suzanne, at 6:29 pm

Yoz pal, heard about the 'tur kwa' clip on the Mr Brown's show way back in 2006?
"Sorry not enough, you must explain why. ... Explain why, you say you tell me you don't want tur kwa (pig liver) when you didn't say you don't want tur kwa? .. Sorry also must explain."

Contributes to your poetry?? -lol-

I used to have this close friend and I am always left to explain things. It's like I am the guy and she, yeah the gal... I am straight but in some sense I don't mind being a les just to be loved and understooded... -Lol-

But I hate the explanation part. Sorry also must explain why I did blah blah.... Really hate her for that... Everything also must explain... In a TYS format... -Argh-

Anyway at times I do admire those 'couples'. Same gender same thinking... Envious, envious and envious.
By Suzanne, at 6:32 pm

Hi Jon,

Enid Blyton wrote well. I always read her books during my elementary school. I still remember that nasty policeman, who always hated those few kids who found out all the clues in those detective stories. These stories are better than heteroerotic fairy tales like Ms snow-why and Ms cindy-halal.

Like looking at a piece of artwork, it depends on how you look at a piece of poem. Post-modern artistic people will think your poem is damn good..

The pasture is always greener on the other side. Some are envious of same gender thinking, while some envy of free-easy non-discriminative different gender relationships. This is just life..
By asianthirst, at 7:57 pm

Yuck... I don't like pig liver too... Can't learn how to appreciate pig organs like other people...

Me not good at poetry or literature either... Me only like to read things I like. That's why I scored in Sec 1 from the simplified Shakespheare plays, but did lousily in Sec 2 when the whole year is about a book named "I am David".
By Anonymous, at 11:35 pm

I believebe u are referring to fish balls and not first balls or wat other balls were u referring to? hahaha

Furthermore, lit. are alawys abt reading in between fine lines.

I love pig livers, juz eat them medium-rare like beef. hehe.

Abd our Jon is turning poetic, cool
erotic poetry soon ? :P
By Acko, at 12:55 pm

hi Jon
perhaps you should check out the poetry of Walt Whitman.In particular the poem "When I Heard at the Close of the Day"-one of my favs. Also ,as you mentioned, liver is an acquired taste. I don't particularly like organ meat (unless it's raw) ;-) but fresh moose liver with onions is quite palatable! can't get that in Sg I'll bet. You're too dear!
By WILL, at 2:08 pm

Well, all that "tis", "nary"...I think you have yet to find your own natural voice. Besides, I like liver.

Thanks
Terry
London
tel116@hotmail.com
By Anonymous, at 7:15 am

Always loved liver honestly! I could cook up liver in a pot and finish the entire thing ( only to end up nauseated later but that's something else entirely ).

Wah, a poet now! Your talents know no bounds :P My poetic instincts only run to bawdy limericks I'm afraid.
By savante, at 7:43 pm

Hi Jon
The song that plays first. With the chorus of "hello, hello"? Can you tell me the name of this song and who the artist is?
By Jim Anderson, at 8:16 pm

suzanne: yeah i heard about the 'tur kwa' thing. same gender ain't always easy. hiding in the shadows to have sex. having to pay for transit rooms. constantly afraid that your partner cheats on you and hands you over a plate of disappointment and STDs. who said being gay was easy?

asianthirst: thanks for seeing the little bit of good in my poetry.

celexter: the chinese seem to be the only people who can eat every single part of the pig.

acko: i prefer my homoerotic to be visual than written. i can still relate to erotic stories though. poetry porn? nah...

will: moose liver? onions? sounds almost too good to be true. a canadian thing i daresay.

terry: tis ting 'bout liver, nary didst any joy i desire from it. but hey, you are a brit. never quarrel with a Briton when it comes to language and the written word.

savante: limericks. i used to actually think it was a dirty word. must be due to the fact that you could re-arrange it to form rimelicks. oooh errr...

jim anderson: it's Chupee by cocoon. you can actually see my entire imeem playlist at the sidebar on the right. just scroll a little down. go on, you know you want to.
By the nurse, at 10:56 am

Jim Anderson says.
Thanks Jon. I cant seem to log in as me because I am in Thailand and all my links are in Thai. Like computing with eyes closed. Chupee by Cocoon.
Got it.
There is something about the tune that relaxes me while at the same time makes me feel really melancholy. Music that can move me like that...got to have it thanks.

PS. Was in Singapore half of January. Never had the need for nursing though (smile).
By Anonymous, at 8:00 pm

Yes, only the Chinese. But that doesn't mean that all Chinese can bring themselves to gulp down those organs...
By Anonymous, at 12:30 am