Bored

[bogusbrig]

I haven't been on Lit for a few days and I can't get to the computer so often because I'm staying in someone elses bed. That's the good part, now here's the bad. I sign into Lit and there is nothing happening. It's boring to be honest. Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head. Maybe I'm bored with this strange bed but I don't think so.

There are nice pleasant people talking to nice pleasant people. Nobody dares to squat and crap. Nobody writes poetry that stamps their mark. The poetry could be written by a computer programme because there is no personality in the poems. No one dares show their rough edges, their disgusting side, their prejudices, their loony opinions. No one dares to provoke!

Polite poetry says nothing. I want poetry I can hate, that makes my blood boil, that I can rile against, that I can counter with poetry filled with bile and failing that I want to see the human weakness and vulnerabilty of the poet. The side we all keep hidden. I talk to polite people everyday who say pleasant things but I wouldn't call it art! I call it getting along together without causing too much friction.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

What am I doing here?

There is a beautiful young woman (well younger than me which isn't hard) asleep six feet away from me and I'm sat here like an idiot wanting my brain stimulated!

I know what I'm going to do!

 

[Rattlesnake1775]

Amen. And enjoy...

 

[wildsweetone]

there's a common misconception of thought that it's women who enjoy having their brains stimulated.

this sounds like a Challenge BB.

 

[twelveoone]

I haven't been on Lit for a few days and I can't get to the computer so often because I'm staying in someone elses bed. That's the good part, now here's the bad. I sign into Lit and there is nothing happening. It's boring to be honest. Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head. Maybe I'm bored with this strange bed but I don't think so.

There are nice pleasant people talking to nice pleasant people. Nobody dares to squat and crap. Nobody writes poetry that stamps their mark. The poetry could be written by a computer programme because there is no personality in the poems. No one dares show their rough edges, their disgusting side, their prejudices, their loony opinions. No one dares to provoke!

Polite poetry says nothing. I want poetry I can hate, that makes my blood boil, that I can rile against, that I can counter with poetry filled with bile and failing that I want to see the human weakness and vulnerabilty of the poet. The side we all keep hidden. I talk to polite people everyday who say pleasant things but I wouldn't call it art! I call it getting along together without causing too much friction.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

What am I doing here?

There is a beautiful young woman (well younger than me which isn't hard) asleep six feet away from me and I'm sat here like an idiot wanting my brain stimulated!

I know what I'm going to do!

write cliches?
Have a nice day

 

[wildsweetone]

i'll probably regret posting this...

Fuck the whore who sits
on the side of the bed, fag dangling
from blood red lips.

Pull her hair hard,
tell her she’s a slut wanting
payment for sex.

Masturbate until her red made-up face
is covered with your creamy semen,
and she’s squirming
and screaming for her buck.

But most of all,
enjoy her, cos you’ll never
be bored quite like this again.



(see now i feel guilty. disclaimer: in no way is this writing meant to offend anyone here. my mind simply took a temptation and ran with it)

 

[flyguy69]

This must be your wild side, sweet one!

Fuck the whore who sits
on the side of the bed, fag dangling
from blood red lips.

Pull her hair hard,
tell her she’s a slut wanting
payment for sex.

Masturbate until her red made-up face
is covered with your creamy semen,
and she’s squirming
and screaming for her buck.

But most of all,
enjoy her, cos you’ll never
be bored quite like this again.

 

[CharleyH]

I haven't been on Lit for a few days and I can't get to the computer so often because I'm staying in someone elses bed. That's the good part, now here's the bad. I sign into Lit and there is nothing happening. It's boring to be honest. Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head. Maybe I'm bored with this strange bed but I don't think so.

There are nice pleasant people talking to nice pleasant people. Nobody dares to squat and crap. Nobody writes poetry that stamps their mark. The poetry could be written by a computer programme because there is no personality in the poems. No one dares show their rough edges, their disgusting side, their prejudices, their loony opinions. No one dares to provoke!

Polite poetry says nothing. I want poetry I can hate, that makes my blood boil, that I can rile against, that I can counter with poetry filled with bile and failing that I want to see the human weakness and vulnerabilty of the poet. The side we all keep hidden. I talk to polite people everyday who say pleasant things but I wouldn't call it art! I call it getting along together without causing too much friction.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

What am I doing here?

There is a beautiful young woman (well younger than me which isn't hard) asleep six feet away from me and I'm sat here like an idiot wanting my brain stimulated!

I know what I'm going to do!

Funny thing boredom is, huh? I am never bored. I try not to be since it is a word for the minds who need to come up with a thread title like ... hm, "I am bored?" So, to be polite before I tell you what a complete idiot you are? Just what makes you think that anything you could say about boredom incites anything intellectual? Anything exciting? (other than this word makes me excitable, but that's me)

Anything that starts with this detestable word is bound to be as the bored poster... both offer much of nothing. If you can't stimulate you own mind, my friend, then maybe you are a lost cause?

If there is (or was) a beautiful young girl in your bed, and you are posting how bored you are and can't thing of, OH MY, a thing to do? LOL. Then maybe you need to reasses like .. your life?

 

[bogusbrig]

Anything that starts with this detestable word is bound to be as the bored poster... both offer much of nothing. If you can't stimulate you own mind, my friend, then maybe you are a lost cause?

Well here's a poem about boredom for you and it's called surprise, surprise, BORED! And it was not written for this thread nor about the woman I am going to get back in bed with. It is one from the achives.

There might be a couple of rough edges to it because my bored mind had to remember the original as I don't have a copy of it with me.


There's a signature etched inside my skull
Graffiti eroded by the dying light
A stranger having left his mark
Now fidgets like a creeper in the drape of shadows
Is that you jesting your way around my brain?
Busying yourself in the nooks and crannies
Rummaging through my laundry like a frustrated private eye

As I lay here like a corpse, waiting for forensics
Obliging in my submission to the pathologist's brutal scalpel
My blemishes a totaling of accounts
Passively recorded and weighed against me
Like the heart that beats too often, it's merely an accusation
But the facts require this as evidence
Before passing quickly onto the liver

A mosquito circles its irritation
I'm too cold for its attraction, meat without the blood
The brain without the heart, all meaning and little purpose
While my bladder swells like a bag of insults I refuse to empty
I indolently endure my discomfort and consider my plight
Self fulfilling the multiplication of my insignificance
The mortuary is quiet and there have been no visitors

But I console myself with this flight of fancy
Of you laid upon your belly with shoulders propped
Your languid neck, a vulnerable exposure
A strained and delicate isthmus
On which your head is hung as if too weighty
Your posture is such that it is to my convenience
As I squint to focus upon your anatomy

My addled brain fumbles like clumsy hands
To perceive what only light to the eye can satisfy
And roughly get to grips with the situation
But like Actionman the will outguns the ways
And not even a conjuror's confusion of mirrors
Could raise my state in this condition
Not even you, wandering naked about my brain

 

[CharleyH]

Why, if I do not like the word bored, would I read about being bored? Surely BB, you can entice me with something more exciting?

 

[bogusbrig]

Funny thing boredom is, huh? I am never bored. I try not to be since it is a word for the minds who need to come up with a thread title like ... hm, "I am bored?" So, to be polite before I tell you what a complete idiot you are? Just what makes you think that anything you could say about boredom incites anything intellectual? Anything exciting? (other than this word makes me excitable, but that's me)

If you are never bored you can't have pondered upon the futility of existence so there are areas where you curious mind hasn't been.

Sartre had a lot to say about boredom that was both interesting and BORING! I suggest you read him if you haven't already.

But if you want something light and fluffy, here is another one from the archives.

Sort of a cross between Baywatch and Top Gear.

Cars

You choose your car
Like you choose your lover
(Dominique began her weird French discourse)
Not necessarily the most beautiful
Nor the fastest
It could be a little dated
With the springs a little stiff!
But it's the overall package
The kudos of having something "autre"

Angelique insisted on the Mini
(Insisting it was possible)
Describing how she would pull her knees up into her chest
His head pressed into the hook of her neck
And his hot deep breaths sweating her breasts
The whole tangled choreography is at a juncture, she said
That allowed him deepest penetration

Francois scoffed and pointed to the Deux Chev Veux
Forget its sewing machine engine
It has springs to die for!
Open the sunroof she explained
Stand up and feel the warm summer air
Drifting in off the Atlantic
He comes up at you
Primal and hungry
The car maybe static but boy!
Your mind is travelling at a hundred kilometres per hour!

If a man's car is an extension of his penis
Continued Dominique
Is it fair to say the way he drives
Is probably how he fucks?
Angelique intervened
"Is the way a woman drives the way she fucks?"
I looked up at Dominique in amazement
Remembering how she drove me back from Vannes to St Pierre
Surging down the back lanes
Swinging into one bend and skidding out of another
Riding the dips and brows like she was riding a bronco
A battered old red Renault 4 with a deceptively spacious interior!








Epilogue

I saw Dominique some years later
Leaving a restaurant off Pont Neuilly
She had lost her youthful jaunt
That fresh roundness had gone
She was more angular
Like she was guarding her weight too zealously
She stepped in to a Mercedes that was waiting
With the cold charm of a sophisticate
You don't have young eager sex in a Mercedes
You don't even make love
You make a deal
Dominique looked like someone
Who had made a deal!

 

[SeattleRain]

I haven't been on Lit for a few days and I can't get to the computer so often because I'm staying in someone elses bed. That's the good part, now here's the bad. I sign into Lit and there is nothing happening. It's boring to be honest. Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head. Maybe I'm bored with this strange bed but I don't think so.

There are nice pleasant people talking to nice pleasant people. Nobody dares to squat and crap. Nobody writes poetry that stamps their mark. The poetry could be written by a computer programme because there is no personality in the poems. No one dares show their rough edges, their disgusting side, their prejudices, their loony opinions. No one dares to provoke!

Polite poetry says nothing. I want poetry I can hate, that makes my blood boil, that I can rile against, that I can counter with poetry filled with bile and failing that I want to see the human weakness and vulnerabilty of the poet. The side we all keep hidden. I talk to polite people everyday who say pleasant things but I wouldn't call it art! I call it getting along together without causing too much friction.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

What am I doing here?

There is a beautiful young woman (well younger than me which isn't hard) asleep six feet away from me and I'm sat here like an idiot wanting my brain stimulated!

I know what I'm going to do!

I got through half this post, was terribly bored

went outside
saved the world
then let it all go to hell again.


so baby what the fuck do you want exactly?
I can post up some fucking ugly angry nasty stuff you can hate all you want.

you ever read the passion threads? there is often stuff there that is raw real and boring?


I think you must like being bored.

 

[CharleyH]

If you are never bored you can't have pondered upon the futility of existence so there are areas where you curious mind hasn't been.

Sartre had a lot to say about boredom that was both interesting and BORING! I suggest you read him if you haven't already.

But if you want something light and fluffy, here is another one from the archives.

LOL Sartre is my fave, and so are existentialist, and absurdists. Where do you think I get my ideas of not being bored, and making your own next minute? You missed something

 

[Tzara]

I haven't been on Lit for a few days and I can't get to the computer so often because I'm staying in someone elses bed. That's the good part, now here's the bad. I sign into Lit and there is nothing happening. It's boring to be honest. Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head. Maybe I'm bored with this strange bed but I don't think so.

There are nice pleasant people talking to nice pleasant people.

Ah, artists! What is it with you people?

I happen to collect and the gallery owner that I most often deal with has talked about art needing to (this is paraphrase) "force an opinion." He seems to think it is better to piss people off and make them angry than just to be pretty. (That is, of course, oversimplified. I am being polite.)

That, in and of itself would be OK, but he then proceeds to try and connect my wife and I up with the artist to "chat."

As you are a visual artist. I am curious. Do you get anything out of that?

I find the experience ghastly in its (wait for it) banality. Visual artists may be able to craft interesting images, but for the most part, when they try and talk about what they're doing they are completely fucking boring. It's like they are supposed to be able to articulate what they are doing visually in language. Language is a wholly different medium, and it is a medium in which most of them quite frankly suck. Though not suck that much more than art critics, who are rarely if ever able to talk about the visual experience in a way that is not simultaneously condescending, pedantic, and cheap.

Perhaps, as someone who is also working in a verbal medium, you're different, though I seem to remember you said someplace (on some post) that you found writing very hard work. I do as well, but I also find it fun. But then, I am not creating art--I am playing games, which makes it a very different endeavor.

Nobody dares to squat and crap.

For me, particularly when talking about art, that is an especially unfortunate image. You are, I presume, British. Who picked Sarah Lucas, Damien Hirst, or Tracey Emin as profound observers of life? For me, most art after the mid 1970s is merely self-indulgent, cleverly apologized claptrap. So may poetry be--it is even more irrelevant to most people's daily lives than visual art--though I really can't make an informed pronouncement on that. As I said--I'm just playing with words.

Nobody writes poetry that stamps their mark. The poetry could be written by a computer programme because there is no personality in the poems. No one dares show their rough edges, their disgusting side, their prejudices, their loony opinions. No one dares to provoke!

Now now now. You're just sounding like a visual artist again. Is Jackson Pollock's legacy that intimidating?

Polite poetry says nothing. I want poetry I can hate, that makes my blood boil, that I can rile against, that I can counter with poetry filled with bile and failing that I want to see the human weakness and vulnerabilty of the poet. The side we all keep hidden. I talk to polite people everyday who say pleasant things but I wouldn't call it art! I call it getting along together without causing too much friction.

Which is, to channel the spirit of Emily Post, an art (or at least a craft) in and of itself. No, there doesn't seem to be much confrontative poetry here right now, but feel free to write some if you'd like.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

Ah ah ah--now you're being deliberately combative to the extent you're not making sense. If it is "good" poetry, it is by definition not "banal." Is Thomas Kinkade "good" art? Popular, yes, but good? You are using a rhetorical ruse here, sir, that does not become you.

What am I doing here?

Um, ranting? That's OK, though. As a visual artist, I grant you considerable leeway to rant at will as that seems to stimulate the visual facility in ways I can't possibly understand.

There is a beautiful young woman (well younger than me which isn't hard)

I hope you are regretting the linguistic implications of that parenthetical remark.

...asleep six feet away from me and I'm sat here like an idiot wanting my brain stimulated!

I know what I'm going to do!

Then, well, do it.

Write something. Write something provocative (well, other than this).

Comment on something else. I think some of the most interesting writing occurs on the threads, many of which are comment threads. I know I can be Mr. Cliché, and I have several things sitting on various comment threads. Feel free to bash them to your heart's content and maybe we can pick a fight that might inspire you.

I empathize with the "want... my brain stimulated" comment, dude. Really do.

You could always just, well, read a book or sumthin' too, you know.

 

[bogusbrig]

LOL Sartre is my fave, and so are existentialist, and absurdists. Where do you think I get my ideas of not being bored, and making your own next minute? You missed something

How can Sartre and French philosophers be anyone's favourite? They are the epitome of Narcissum and navel gazing and there is nothing more boring than that! OK OK That is a sweeping generalisation of French philosophers but my night's entertainment is awake again and I'm going to cure my boredom with a little distraction exercise. Isn't distraction more to do with filling the next minute than anything deep and meaningful?

I'll carry on in the morning.

 

[Tzara]

How can Sartre and French philosophers be anyone's favourite? They are the epitome of Narcissum and navel gazing and there is nothing more boring than that! OK OK That is a sweeping generalisation of French philosophers but my night's entertainment is awake again and I'm going to cure my boredom with a little distraction exercise. Isn't distraction more to do with filling the next minute than anything deep and meaningful?

I'll carry on in the morning.

Boy, if that doesn't sound existentialist, I'll turn in my Philosophy 101 card.

Sweet, um, dreams, artist boy.

 

[SeattleRain]

I think this is the shittiest squattiest thing I have written



pork and poetry (revision #37)

my poem
snorts and shits
then scratches his back against a splintered fence

they wrestle 'im down for some cleaning up

he comes out quiet, hairless,
smooth plastic packaged,
perfectly formed,
bologney

I miss the smell.

 

[CharleyH]

How can Sartre and French philosophers be anyone's favourite? They are the epitome of Narcissum and navel gazing and there is nothing more boring than that! OK OK That is a sweeping generalisation of French philosophers but my night's entertainment is awake again and I'm going to cure my boredom with a little distraction exercise. Isn't distraction more to do with filling the next minute than anything deep and meaningful?

I'll carry on in the morning.

You brought it up as an argument, my love. And what philosophy do you find particularly exciting as a bored person? Sarte and his lover Simone de B were amazingly insightful. Why would you think them more dull than? Who? Which philosopher? Why should I argue with a hack?

 

[wildsweetone]

This must be your wild side, sweet one!

it is? it's wasted. i'm gonna submit it. lol (heck it might keep the spiders occupied at least)

 

[twelveoone]

I think this is the shittiest squattiest thing I have written



pork and poetry (revision #37)

my poem
snorts and shits
then scratches his back against a splintered fence

they wrestle 'im down for some cleaning up

he comes out quiet, hairless,
smooth plastic packaged,
perfectly formed,
bologney

I miss the smell.

weel, weel, weel
I lubbilub this
snort

 

[bogusbrig]

Ah, artists! What is it with you people?

I happen to collect and the gallery owner that I most often deal with has talked about art needing to (this is paraphrase) "force an opinion." He seems to think it is better to piss people off and make them angry than just to be pretty. (That is, of course, oversimplified. I am being polite.)

I'm not talking about anyone forcing an opinion. I'm talking about daring to write what people feel, see and experience and really open themselves up. From what I read most people appear to be content to hide behind banal and pretty words.

That, in and of itself would be OK, but he then proceeds to try and connect my wife and I up with the artist to "chat."

As you are a visual artist. I am curious. Do you get anything out of that?

No. I think art chat is a load of bollocks and I don't know an artist that doesn't think that way but it's something the media and academics force on the artist.

Take art college. To prove there is an intellectual base to art education, someone in their wisdom and I doubt it was an artist (Vasari should have been strangled at birth) appears to have declared art must justify itself through intellectual language. Well if art can usually be justified through intellectual language it is usually crap because it wasn't necessary to make the piece in the first place.

I find the experience ghastly in its (wait for it) banality. Visual artists may be able to craft interesting images, but for the most part, when they try and talk about what they're doing they are completely fucking boring. It's like they are supposed to be able to articulate what they are doing visually in language. Language is a wholly different medium, and it is a medium in which most of them quite frankly suck. Though not suck that much more than art critics, who are rarely if ever able to talk about the visual experience in a way that is not simultaneously condescending, pedantic, and cheap.

Well I can't find anything there to disagree with you.

Perhaps, as someone who is also working in a verbal medium, you're different, though I seem to remember you said someplace (on some post) that you found writing very hard work. I do as well, but I also find it fun. But then, I am not creating art--I am playing games, which makes it a very different endeavor.

I find making art hard work but it pays, if it wasn't work I might enjoy it more but if I didn't need the money, I wouldn't need to work. However, there is a masochism in the process.

For me, particularly when talking about art, that is an especially unfortunate image. You are, I presume, British. Who picked Sarah Lucas, Damien Hirst, or Tracey Emin as profound observers of life? For me, most art after the mid 1970s is merely self-indulgent, cleverly apologized claptrap. So may poetry be--it is even more irrelevant to most people's daily lives than visual art--though I really can't make an informed pronouncement on that. As I said--I'm just playing with words.

Now now now. You're just sounding like a visual artist again. Is Jackson Pollock's legacy that intimidating?

You picked three artists who I don't think can draw a line between them nor articulate a comprehensible sentence. They exist because of the media's interest in shock value, though I find their work completely banal and the people who collect them seem to be affluent middleclass people with safe lives who want to own a little controversy they can talk to their friends about at dinner parties.

Jackson Pollock made good curtain designs. As did many of the abstract expressionists. You can't make a statement with McCarthy around. Though his work was dismissed at the time and didn't sell well, thething it had going for it was that it was inoffensive.

As for the visual being irrelevent, that is perhaps why many of us inhabit urban areas where no consideration has been made to the fact that people actually do have sight.

You could always just, well, read a book or sumthin' too, you know.

Which I ended up doing.

 

[twelveoone]

Cliche after cliche after cliche rears its ugly head.

Which bastard declared that good poetry must be banal?

What am I doing here?

stirring up, Bogus, I love it,
I think the bastards are just a few threads away.

... Though not suck that much more than art critics, who are rarely if ever able to talk about the visual experience in a way that is not simultaneously condescending, pedantic, and cheap.

Perhaps, as someone who is also working in a verbal medium, you're different, though I seem to remember you said someplace (on some post) that you found writing very hard work. I do as well, but I also find it fun. But then, I am not creating art--I am playing games, which makes it a very different endeavor.

For me, particularly when talking about art, that is an especially unfortunate image. You are, I presume, British. Who picked Sarah Lucas, Damien Hirst, or Tracey Emin as profound observers of life? For me, most art after the mid 1970s is merely self-indulgent, cleverly apologized claptrap. So may poetry be--it is even more irrelevant to most people's daily lives than visual art--though I really can't make an informed pronouncement on that. As I said--I'm just playing with words.

Now now now. You're just sounding like a visual artist again. Is Jackson Pollock's legacy that intimidating?

Which is, to channel the spirit of Emily Post, an art (or at least a craft) in and of itself. No, there doesn't seem to be much confrontative poetry here right now, but feel free to write some if you'd like.

Ah ah ah--now you're being deliberately combative to the extent you're not making sense. If it is "good" poetry, it is by definition not "banal." Is Thomas Kinkade "good" art? Popular, yes, but good? You are using a rhetorical ruse here, sir, that does not become you.

Damn, I love you.
Disagree with the part about not making sense - we all knew what he was talking about. "ruse" may not be appropriate.

 

[bogusbrig]

Sarte and his lover Simone de B were amazingly insightful. Why would you think them more dull than? Who? Which philosopher? Why should I argue with a hack?

Perhaps they weren't boring in fifties and were wild and exciting, there are a lot of people who seem to think so plus the whole of France and who am I to argue with them. However, they seem much of their time to me and Sartre's work seems as much a response to France's acquiescence in the war and what the French watched happening around them, than to anything else.

 

[bogusbrig]

Boy, if that doesn't sound existentialist, I'll turn in my Philosophy 101 card.

Sweet, um, dreams, artist boy.

Well yeah. But my excuse is I had a naked woman a few feet away who had just woken up and was being very inviting and I just couldn't resist getting the last word in. Always a fatal mistake.

 

[bogusbrig]

Since this thread has missed its intention and the conversation has got onto me and fine art and art speak. I'll put myself on the line and post some of my current work.

These prints are from a series so just posting one would put the work out of any context whatsoever. The series is called 'Postcards from L'Amour' and subtitled 'Love, hate, sexual obsession and the possibilty of death'. The title is tongue in cheek and intended to parody the pretention of art speak and such titles found in what is known as 'Brit Art'.

The prints are posted about life size 9cm x 12cm, though scanning has lost some of the quality. Feel free to rip them apart. I put them up, I don't mind taking the fire. They do after all, help pay my rent.

The titles are: 1. Foucault's Pony 2. Rocket Willy 3. Japanese Doll Bathing With Eels.

They are now viewable on mt site if anyone is interested.

 

[mischievousgrin]

I believe the point of this thread is to let everyone know that the OP has been having sex.

Um, cool dude.