Huuklyeand Cinquor Critiques Gone4Ever© Miracle Painkiller For Poets

 

Patience,
It’ll be over
In a jiffy—

It only
Hurts so
Long as you 

Hold it in. 

 

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Artful Poetic Hubris

Striving to best 

What you already think
You do better than others,
You keep writing, trying 

For that elusive special something
Precious to say, never
Once thinking you should have 

Packed it in yesterday.

 

 

 

Now That You Ask Me: Huuklyeand Cinquor On The Writing Of Difficult Poetry

I must say 

I think 

 

Your poems are splendid; 

They would be even better 

 

If we understood them. 

 

 

MODERATOR’S COMMENT: I also must say in turn that our boy Huuk has made a resounding comeback appearance after spending months on the sidelines of the enormously fecund contemporary poetry scene, and I for one am mightily impressed by this, his latest (tongue in cheek?) offering, wherein we see him grappling to come to terms with that age-old bugaboo monster still tormenting many of today’s poets: How crucial it is to write beautiful, accessible poetry without being sent by elderly po-biz savants to the nearest establishment inner sanctum cell padded with nothing but tome after tome of only their excruciatingly maddening poetic criticism—that and nothing more, nothinglikeness period. (At least for the time being, however long that may be.)

 

 

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Going In Circles (Second Time Around)

I’m forever 

 

Being told something 

Like somewhere round 

 

Here is a square peg. 

 

 

Moderator’s comments: If one so wishes to compare the versions, here is the link to the original poem. https://vazambam.blogspot.com/2019/08/huuklyeand-cinquor-on-going-in-circles.html 

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor's "Full Medal Jackoffs"

Duty calls the poets 

To the front whenever hard- 

Line rabble-rousers appear— 

 

Dishonor awaits 

Those that dawdle, 

Displaying their pussy- 

 

Whipped corpuses to the other 

Pussies in the rear. 

 

 

 

Moderator’s comments: My beret goes off to il miglio fabbro* Huuk for this long-overdue devastating little bombshell of a poem aimed straight at the wishy-washy, nay, empurpled hearts of so many of my fellow poets who choose to sit out conflicts of conscience astride barbed wire fences—and to whom I can only say—have a goddamn heart, you blasted cockscombs, you’re getting too near! 

 

 *https://wasteland.windingway.org/dedication/il-miglior-fabbro

 

 

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On The Transmogrifying Disappearance Of Poetic Ambiguity

Hell, it’s when 
Whatever the well- 
Intentioned well- 
Versed poet writes 
Ends up going one way  
Only to end up never 
Coming out anywhere 
One way or the other. 


 Moderator’s comments: So nice to see you again after such a long hiatus, Huuk—when are you going back?

Fatal Attraction

When one goes where one has to,
What’s the use of asking why? 
---Huuklyeand Cinquor 

Like it or not, let the poem 
Walk away scot free 

And it will take you with it 
With no second thought. 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Going In Circles

Someone’s forever
Telling me 

Somewhere round 
Here is a square peg. 



Moderator’s comments: The apotheosis of the absurd in only eleven words; however, what remains of my frazzled logic impels me to peg the odds at 99-1 that prior to writing this “exercise in futility,” Cinquor envisaged the specter of the great Archimedes (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archimedes) uttering his famous last words “Do not disturb my circles” just before an enraged, mathematically ignorant Roman soldier “put him in a pine box” for what he thought was insubordination when, in reality, all the good mathematician had in mind was to continue his line of thought undisturbed, outside the box!

 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On How To Commit Poetic Suicide And Live To Tell About It

The next time you sit down to write 
Something mind-blowing right 

Off the top of your head, 
Take what’s left 

Of your brains with you. 



Moderator’s comments: What a relief! Our resident gadfly had been out of sight and out of mind so long that I was ready to abandon all hope of ever hearing from him again, so you can understand how elated I was when I received another one of his delicious little gems. With this one in particular, without his resorting to overblown poetic hyperbole, we can see how Huuk has hit the proverbial nail on the head once more and demonstrated how futile it is to have your artistic cake and eat it too—unless the poet in question has enough smarts left over to return to his senses before he suffers irreversible damage to his powerful albeit very misguided “inspirational” ego by overshooting it.

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Why Odoriferous Gossip Nurtures Us

They say you should 
Never believe your eyes, 
But if your ears were more 

Plausible as cauliflowers, 
I bet you would 
Eat your stinking hearts out. 


Moderator’s comments: Might perhaps the reason behind Huuk’s long hiatus be because he’s been feeling boxed in by conventional standards of behavior, especially those dealing with politically correct/incorrect olfactory reactions to unsavory issues that have always been so close to his heart? Now that that rather hard to swallow problem looks somewhat resolved by this poem, I hope he's at peace with himself and has finally decided to let John Q. Public go to hell in a handcart driven by a host of crazed grotesques.

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Purveyors Of Genetically Modified Crapolla

You sod busting deviant turds you 

Keep on grinding out this bull 
Husking horseshit and before you 
Know it y’all be corn 

Holed by an ear-to-ear 
Grinning sodomite 
Grim Reaper, got it? 

Good. 


Moderator’s comments: Huuk demonstrating his fiery didacticism once more; too bad he had to stoop so low this time—linguistically speaking—to get his rapier-wielding point across. 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Finding One's Way To The Domicile Of The Perfect Poem

Poets, I dare say 
Enough is enough, please 
Gather all your senses together— 

You just passed 
The sign 
That said No 
Trespassing— 

The next one says 
No Exit. 

Moderator’s comments: Hopeless perfectionist par excellence that Huuk is, 
no wonder it took him so long to check back in here. 

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Cheapskate Curmudgeon Caught Soaking Dentures In Half-Empty Water Glass

I gather 
It’s a chore your 
Not thinking of anything 
Else so what 
You most likely attend to 
As you contemplate 
Your sunken cheeks 
In your chintzy 
Bathroom mirror is what 
You should’ve sunk 
Your teeth in all 
These years 
But didn’t. 


Moderator's comment: Grrr. . . .if there’s but one iota of a chance my alter ego is spreading false—aka “fake”—news about his better half of a cur, I can assure him this mutt’s teeth are real. https://i.chzbgr.com/original/8257568768/hA0F95665/

Huuklyeand Cinquor On The Difficulty Inherent In Finding Your True North

Like a compass gone 
Haywire, the why 
Of where you may be 
At any given point 
Has nothing to do 
With where you think 
You are going. 


Moderator’s comments: OK, Cinquor—you just keep throwing your soul-searching lines out—sooner or later, some lost soul will take the bait and follow you straight to wherever it is you think you’re going.

Huuklyeand Cinquor On Postmodern Poetry's Distressing Emphasis On Omphaloskepsis

"The question of the nature of navel fluff seems to concern more people than one would think at first glance.”  – Dr. Georg Steinhauser, chemist 

Reflecting 
One way or another 
On the idea that 
Idiot in its ancient 
Greek sense did not 
Mirror what it means today, 

But rather someone so 
Caught up in his self- 
Importance that he is 
Useless to society really 
Makes one kind of wonder, 
Does it not? 

Moderator’s comments: Huuk, I suppose it does but if so, shouldn’t that questioning spirit supply us with real answers rather than ending in a vapid query that does nothing but prolong the agonizing naval-gazing status quo that characterizes a great deal of contemporary poetry, yours included? 

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Why Poets Should Always Carry Notepads

Yes, yes—I know you think 
You’re a poet but 
. 
Have you never thought 
You’re a poet only 
. 
When writing and not 
Ballyhooing in a cage before 
. 
The likes of John Q. Public 
Like a monkey in a zoo? 
. 
If not, please note such 
Knowledge helps you 
. 
Keep your mind composed, 
Off the subject and not 
. 
Going bananas if you do. 


Moderator’s comments: Hey, Huuk--no use going apeshit when all around you 'monkey see, monkey do'—write a lyric that’ll send ‘em back to the zoo.

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Conceptual Poetry*

To get to the bottom 
And fully 

Appreciate it, 
You have to 

Wade through its shallows 
Holding your nose 

And sucking in 
As many 

Fishy metaphors 
As you can 

Swallow. 

Moderator’s comment: Call me Ishmael, mate, but if you can’t see that this is a bull’s eye gaff from that grand old man of piercing wit and sure-fire aplomb aimed at those blubbering pompous purveyors of purloined poetry, you don’t know a “gaff” from a “gaffe” and it’s time to put a patch over your “good” eye, too. 

*for more edification on your way to becoming this murky body of poetry’s complete (sic) angler, go to 

https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/brief-guide-conceptual-poetry

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Transcending a Rat Race Mentality

Forget about that “better” mouse trap— 
Even if you should 
Wake to find the trodden 
Masses beating a path to your door,

Better you turn turncoat and get out 
Of the rat race rather than looking 
Down and thinking twice 
Too many poor dead 

Vermin already infesting the floor. 



Moderator’s comments: First off, Huuk’s “baneful” attack against one of the scourges of contemporary society i.e. the “rat race,” is diluted by too much reliance on mousy soporific bromides; secondly, where “a shrill piping of plenty” is clearly called for, he gives us an overdose of black-humored trumpery; finally, one wonders if it isn’t time for him to seriously consider retiring from the poetry wars and expend what’s left of his Parnassian energy on something more constructive, say like swatting gadflies that are always bugging our flying white horse Pegasus whenever it touches down to quench its thirst at the sacred Pierian watering hole.

Huuklyeand Cinquor on Minor Underground Poets

Oh, the ignominy of it all! 
To die as they lived, revolting 

And buried underneath rotting 
Sheaves of subversive verse. 

Moderator’s comment: As this is Cinquor’s first communiqué in almost a year, I trust he isn’t having second thoughts about continuing our five-year cooperative venture as set forth in this initial blog entry of October 11, 2010; worse yet, I’m worried to death he’s approaching terminal burn-out phase and will soon be beyond saving. Perish the thought! I don’t know what I’d do without his horseplay poetic and gadfly manner rearing their heads now and then and injecting some sorely needed life into this deadly lackluster blog. 

NB: I hope I’m wrong but why do I sense Huuk is describing himself here rather than some nameless poetic pencil-pushers pushing for world revolution through the medium of putrefying polemic verse?

On Piscine Poets out of Water

--for Huuklyeand Cinquor, il miglior fabbro 


Don’t piddle precious time 
Sounding your position out— 
Your next line is always 
Easier to swallow 
If you don’t know 
You’re hooked.