Goldilocks' Discontent (I.I. extended bonus feature!)

in sarcosmic •  last year  (edited)

Goldilocks' Discontent

.
original too-long poem
.
with art
    by these other humans
.
honorary ending of
Infernal Interstate series


Important Introduction!

What's the best way to open a too-long poem written by recorded narration at the end of a too-long drive? Answer: with a too-long introduction. What should the intro talk about? Something questionably profound and mundane simultaneously, maybe some to-do about the fact that this fledgling poet always avoids certain words and topics, avoiding the profane by nocking an arrow towards the universal. Something scandalous about the English letters g-o-d-a-m-n in that order with one of them doubled. Something scathing about how sounds are not inherently offensive and slightly sarcastic about the weak constitutions of humans with an undertone of anxiety that someone might consign you to an eternity of being rather warm.

Yada-yada-yada. Then you can discuss how fascinating it is to write poems in this manner, making sure to let the readers know this is the 5th part in a five part series—so hold onto your seat, it's gonna be a wild ride. Something about paradoxes and the absurd; something about the abstruse virtues of the surreal. A subtle apology about the length it takes to do all this (while not really being sorry), with some more things previously forgotten tacked on so it gets even longer. Further gesticulation about what the hell "sarcosmic" means, anyway, for people that can't reverse engineer pretty obvious portmanteaus, and really—whatever else elegantly insubstantial you can manage to squeeze in that sounds impressive and just confusing enough that people have to read it more than once, but eloquent enough that they're convinced it means something pretty deep, anyways.

Yeah, that should do the trick. So enjoy the poem, then!

goldilocks_by_pancake_mix-d74r5gs 4.jpg


Goldilocks' Discontent

Hellacious Highway series: Part 5? Bonus Feature?!


neggoldi.jpg4921f2329846c091a4f634b87ff2a36f-d35uihm 3.jpg


Frantic twiddling of knobs,
changes in temperature—
lax superpositions
in varying states of aliveness.

Needless rotors:
the clankings of ancient war-reverbrations.

Flashlit-knitting of industry,
an abysmal guardian of wheeling torches.

Hypnotized by my own song
of quavering thrushes,
trials of interactions and solitudes
divided by the flippancy of weather.

Straits are built
by staring in one place for too long.

Spectres,
iridescent, ill-intented,
are born in the eyes
in the back of my head.

My side eyes
go blind from static,
hammering shark drums.

The ovoid eyeballs of my elbows
make friends with
whichever happens to be the closest fabric.

Whatever is highest
becomes a skyscraper.

Dinosaurs dream
of my smartphone
in peat bogs.

For them,
I am the most
god-awful nightmare:

bludgeoning their crude skulls
with inane mutterings—

(whimpering something
about mutant cornbread
in the prehistoric night.)

I laugh;
my nightmares are whitewashed
with one of many kinds of stupidity.

With the ribbons
of a rarer, more expensive type of stupidity,
I tie up homecoming presents
in a cute little bow
and the prettiest tinsel I can find
in the cluttered basement of my cerebellum.

I'm playing white elephant
with the chemical truck in front of me;
someone I can't see and who doesn't exist
hands me a package—

filled with bits
of the most impressive rubbish.

I make an incredulous sound
that becomes its own universe:
it creates me, making me
far more incredulous
than it ever was.

Not out of spite:
artistic editing.

Out the windows of doubt
I wear garments where jumbled numbers
were scrawled by some illiterate ogre.

Actually, they were some kind of sign—
in an angled tongue guttural with chasms
I prefer to pretend not to understand.

Writing mediocre verse:
transcendent toddling
of the arrhythmic.

There's too many
goddamn confounding variables;
So I haven't changed the setting
on the air conditioning
in quite some time.


neggoldi2.jpg
4921f2329846c091a4f634b87ff2a36f-d35uihm 2.jpg


4921f2329846c091a4f634b87ff2a36f-d35uihm.jpg


redstars.jpg


goldilocks___horror_edition_by_dragonianfantasy-dc2efu2 3.jpg

Written by
@d-pend
10/10/18
.
Art by

.
"Goldilocks" by Pancake-mix
"The Goldilocks Zone" by meluseena
"Goldilocks - Horror Edition by DragonianFantasy


goldilocks_by_pancake_mix-d74r5gs 3.jpg


4921f2329846c091a4f634b87ff2a36f-d35uihm 3.jpg


goldilocks___horror_edition_by_dragonianfantasy-dc2efu2.jpg


goldilocks_by_pancake_mix-d74r5gs 2.jpggoldilocks___horror_edition_by_dragonianfantasy-dc2efu2 2.jpgneggoldi.jpg


I might include the rough audio recording tomorrow that created this if people want to hear it. Gotta go to sleep now! Oh yeah, hope the pictures aren't too disturbing. I thought they were hilarious, but I'm in that tired state where odd things are funny. Actually, that's probably just my strange sense of humor........

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Hi d-pend,

Thank you for your entry in to #comedyopenmic comedy contest. We have asked the judges below to review your entry and give it a funny rating. (They generally have no sense of humor, as the saying goes, those that can't do, start contests and judge).
This will determine your ultimate position when the results are tallied. (That being said, you are free to adopt any position you wish - we can recommend pantsless with beer in hand.)

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Thank you to @matytan for the great banner

Thanks. Maybe someone will appreciate my peculiar sense of humorless humor :-)

@d-pend,

I wrote a whole bloody comment about it before I noticed this one.

Quill

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Thematically, the title clearly directs the reader’s attention to the fact that there is dissatisfaction or unhappiness in this poem. The imagery is vivid, exhibiting a clear interrelationship and interactions between the inner and the outer selves.

This poem opens with a hurried departure from one clime to another. Apparently, all is not well. The mind is restless, experiencing emotional instability amidst the noisy confusion. The poet persona is unhappy with the situation he is facing. This is despite the fact that he has pure intentions but the cacophonic situation is overwhelming. Man becomes fixated and narrow-minded when he refuses to update his knowledge and experiences. He falls into decay.

Straits are built
by staring in one place for too long.
Spectres,
iridescent, ill-intented,
are born in the eyes
in the back of my head.

No doubt, this is a well-written poem.

Dear @d-pend sir!
I appreciate your stamina to write a long Poem after too long driving. it is always not easy to compose such lines after physical exhaustion.As composing poem is your passion, so you must drive away your stress by composing poem.
Thanks & regards

Hey @certain! Well, it's become a strong habit by now, so I don't feel the day's complete without it.

so you must drive away your stress by composing poem.

I do think it helps me transmute troubles and make sense of the day. :-D

Thanks for the laugh on my morning commute. Five people on the subway looked and wondered why I was snickering.

Dinosaurs dream
of my smartphone
in peat bogs.

For them,
I am the most
god-awful nightmare:

As I kept reading I was greatly entertained by your travels. Get some rest.

I wonder if at some point you were pulled over and were given a ticket from some illiterate ogre?

Thanks for the laugh on my morning commute. Five people on the subway looked and wondered why I was snickering.

How good to know you share my odd sense of humor xD

As I kept reading I was greatly entertained by your travels. Get some rest.

Finally crashed and slept for 12+ hours last night, so I'm feeling pretty good today :-)

I wonder if at some point you were pulled over and were given a ticket from some illiterate ogre?

Haha! Thankfully, not on this trip; though I've gotten far more speeding tickets in my past decade of driving than I care to remember...

On such a long journey, the hands, the feet, the head, the brain; The whole body becomes restless, it gets bored very fast and you have to invent some solution with any stimulus that is near.
Currently, travel is a bit more enjoyable because of technology.

On such a long journey, the hands, the feet, the head, the brain; The whole body becomes restless, it gets bored very fast and you have to invent some solution with any stimulus that is near.

Indeed. I drove for 670 miles yesterday; it was around 10 hours of driving. The day before, 6; and before that was packing up all my earthly possessions xD The imp "exhaustion" became my strategic ally!

Currently, travel is a bit more enjoyable because of technology.

That's true! I'm sure it will continue to get more so with the passing of years.

Hmmm... This reminds me I need to learn more english words... I don't wanna use the same words in my poetry over and over...

Haha. There are always more vocabulary words to learn, especially if you borrow from antiquated terms, create neologisms/back-formations, or steal from other languages! :-D

I steal from other languages all the time hehe

Wow! What a nice poetry of yours @d-pend.. I do really love to read such unique poetry ever since. I've been making the same too at some times.. :)

Thank you for the support and nice comment @jejes! Keep at it...!

Thank you for being here for me, so I can be here for you.
Enjoy your day and stay creative!
Botty loves you. <3

Frantic twiddling of knobs,
changes in temperature—
lax superpositions
in varying states of aliveness.., what an expression!! Amazing to me

Posted using Partiko Android

Hey buddy, thank you!
I have a lot of fun writing poems this way...
just speaking the unusual phrases that come to mind in a voice memo
and transcribing them later :-D

Have a nice day @wanasoloben!

Again your poem is amazing

Posted using Partiko Android

Thanks @vikas07338 :-)

You welcome sir

Posted using Partiko Android

The unique combination of art and poetry
Along with which you have given the introduction, it is very good and admirable.

Hey @vickykarma thanks for the encouraging words and I'm glad you liked it!

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Hi @d-pend!

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Your rank has dropped 3 places in the last three days (old rank 829).

In our last Algorithmic Curation Round, consisting of 471 contributions, your post is ranked at #215.

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Goldilocks.png

😂 💯 😂

Do you know that you won a prize from comedy open mic for this entry?

@d-pend,

I was laughing throughout.

Here's my editing suggestion: Change the title of the poem to ... Delirium.

All I could think of as I read this was, "This guy needs to pull over and take a nap." I could feel your IQ plummeting amidst a fog of fatigue. Giggling and snickering like a fool: "Butt-crack, roof-rack ... hey, that's good! How can I use that?" :-)

OK, on a more serious note: The Introduction.

You have to start writing an Intro with every poem. Your Intro added a lot of personality to the post. 99% of the prose I've seen you write is in the comment sections of posts pertaining to the blockchain. And let's face it, that is a subject matter designed to murder eloquence ... and humanity in general. At some point, "Cuckold," becomes the only reasonable retort.

Your style of employing humor in your prose is reminiscent of both myself and @girlbeforemirror. Rarely the object of the discourse, but subtlety coloring and influencing it in the background.

All three of us write "prose with a swagger" ... it is most assuredly the poetic influence ... it matters not just what we're saying, but how it sounds when we're saying it. Poets are performers. The real extra umph, though, is the addition of subtle humor as a spice.

It is not self-apparent just from reading your poetry, or mine for that matter, that we both possess quite a lively sense of humor. But humor, even a little, creates powerful bonds with your audience.

As a sidebar: It's funny how certain writers influence the style of others. For example, I've noticed that Girlbeforemirror's cannot now seem to write a poem, about anything, without mentioning a "void." I blame this entirely upon you.

I'm seriously considering writing a 100-stanza poem about the cosmos, entitled "Void" ... and then not mentioning a "void" even once. Just to piss off the two of you void-freaks.

Quill