Thread: Electronic Carnival

Amidst all the many people
in fields of muddy grass and trash
he searches for empty cans and bottles
ironically discarding the imported ones.
Poor Chinese/African immigrant

he doesn't care for the music;
bass, thumping, literally fucking
all the skanks, the screaming crowds,
while my friend lights his pipe
but no time for his philosophies.

From here the scene is small,
the night sky is colored;
lasers and smoke machines
entrance stoned sights, LED pois
spin for everyone and no one.

Magnetic - I'm drawn closer
pulsing energy lifts my body;
"louder, louder please."
It's no dance I know or can control -
notes easily digested.

If not music then call it what it is;
a new religion maybe,
function one DJ deities,
fundament of a fuck-up generation.
Hip hop's dying, that's for sure...

Wow Martin! You got the feeling of the crowd across very well, I liked the contrast between the immigrant picking up bottles and cans and the mindless, hypnotized crowd of concert goers. The last stanza really grabbed me and was a wonderful ending.

*smirking*

My mind is retitling this as " How every middle aged person feels when they watch the younger generation. " My father was born in 1928, and thought Howlin Wolf was God. He told me how his father would rant, and rave about the blues coming from his room, car, etc. You would think that would make him a little more empathic to his kids choice in music huh ? Nope... I watched him snap my brother's Jethro Tull album in half after he heard "Aqualung" lol He did the same thing to me when he heard my Robin Williams comedy album one day. ( A man who had an entire collection of Red Foxx blue tapes ! lol )

Welcome to transition

thoroughly enjoyed this !

I really loved this, you just captured the festival atmosphere so perfectly.

I particularly liked:

he doesn't care for the music;
bass, thumbing, literally fucking
all the skanks, the screaming crowds,
while my friend lights his pibe
but no time for his philosophies.

which really captured the noise and claustrophia, for me. I also loved "notes easily digested", which honestly seems to epitomise most modern music.

Thanks guys,

Cindy, I'm glad you enjoyed that perspective. It was actually the initial inspiration for the poem. Poor guys cleaning up our mess, yet quite an interesting side-effect of recycling!

Maggie, sounds like quite a harsh dad to me. I'm glad you're laughing now, I'm sure you weren't back then though Anyways, this transition to electro these days is fucking huge, at least in Europe. It's back to basics and everybody are simply loving it (me too, hehe).

Chez, festival atmosphere indeed. Here in Copenhagen in summer times we have so many outdoor raves and gatherings in the big parks or streets of the city. Thousands and thousands of people raving all over, hehe...
With "notes easily digested" I also wanted to refer to that your inner organs are actually pounding along with the bass-line because of the extreme sound systems.

I'm glad you all liked. Many thanks for commenting...

I like things sparked by seemingly insignificant, yet memorable observations, like your guy picking up cans and bottles. I think those are the things that the vast majority misses, but that writers take in and use as fodder for stories, characters, or poems. I know I do.

I like the concept, how you've captured the scene and mood etc., but I feel like it could be smoother, maybe with more attention to word choices and breaks to give it a little more flow.

Good job.

You've captured this scene brilliantly, Martin, can collector and all. I was a bit surprised as it is quite different from your usual, but still expertly handled. No nits as far as I'm concerned. As to your comment regarding internal organs pulsing in time, ya got that right, couple the stuff with a good sound system and it's irresistible. Nothing better than getting lost in some booming bass for a while. Kudos, love, I was truly impressed with this and enjoyed it tremendously

I don't see the connection between the first stanza and the rest of the piece. It jumps from an outside perspective surveying the wreckage to an insider enjoying the fever. The piece wouldn't lose any steam if you get rid of S1 and open it up with S2. The rest is really fucking good, especially S2 and the concluding stanza.

Good stuff Martin.

Thanks Joe, I'd say this piece in particular was very felt, as every stanza stems from either observation or emotion. I thought I had it smooth as is, I'd appreciate if you point out where you think it needs tightening...

Drew, come on, D&B is so 90'es! Dubstep's the shit these days

Lisa, I guess I've been experimenting a bit recently, and this piece was quite a relief for me, not trying to pack every sentence with meaning. Thanks for your kind words.

Edge, the can collector(s) are really part of the whole scene. I was trying to capture a moment of social awareness you might call it, and then how the music sucks you in and make you forget about it instantly. I'm glad you enjoyed the rest though, I think this one is quite inspired, structure and language-wise, by your writings...

Thanks all for commenting. I found a vid from the very days (last weekend) on youtube, for those interested:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SKXVN...eature=related

I struggled to get the "flavour" as strongly as maybe you intended. Whilst you weave a fair few images together, they didn't slot together for me. An example is the opening can collector; for me, it gave the image of something having ended, the last few people drifting away, the final flow of excitement ending, almost the morning after the night before, to use a stereotypical phrase.

Then it jumps into the night, will it all happening, but the images are weaker here, as if you think we'll all understand. Our experiences therefore colour your poem, rather than us, the readers, sharing your experience with you. For me, that's a conflict, because I already have my own experiences, and when I have to use them to add meat to your verbal skeleton, the mix just goes wrong.

Drew, haha, so I'm told! S2 L2-3 is just that

Pete, thanks a lot for taking your time with this. I was actually expecting such a critique earlier as the piece indeed is very case specific. If one knew about the event, the title would suggest that. Besides that, all the electro references (LED poi, function one, etc.) have their crowd and the can collector I take is something quite Danish actually. There literally is an army of them at all open arrangements.

None the less I agree with you, there isn't much universality in this.

Cheers,
Martin

And a third! Frankly, what drew me here was the title. In the information age we tend to see poetry and poems either flying off into unfamiliar forms and experiments or ebbing away into another useless or impotent art form. Hence you may appreciate the initial interest. That being the approach taken, to be greeted by the opening stanza allows for a contrast as to what happens later one in the poem. My reaction is of one contemplating how such contrasted realities starkly co-exist in the one scene and yet be both real and potent for those that experience their realities. I for one have taken part in this carnival and have sat at a gutter witnessing a similar scene where the migrant ekes a 'living' if you could call it that from the waste and refuse of our lives. And the doof-doof (as a dear friend calls it) pounds on in my head, after the fact.